#elijah mikaelson x female oc

[muse-oleum]

Beloved (Part I)

“She was the only woman who saw all of him—the good, the bad and the ugly—and wanted all of it. From the moment she arrived in our village, everyone else never really stood a chance. Honestly, I don’t believe anyone ever will.” OR Rebekah tells Hayley the story of the first and only woman Elijah Mikaelson has ever truly loved, and why he can never love her the way she wants him to.

Elijah Mikaelson x Witch!OC/10th century AU/Unreliable Narrator (mostly Rebekah, though)

Find it on AO3: here.

(+ so many more tags and nerding it out in the notes :) come say hi)

Hayley was sulking again, listlessly watching the fire crackle back to life as Rebekah poked at it, the scent of firewood filling the air as the flames soared higher, licking up at the blackened bricks. With a sigh, the vampire sat back into the leather armchair closest to the fireplace, occasionally prodding the heavy iron grate closer to the hearth, as if keeping the crackling embers from escaping would somehow prevent the werewolf from asking her the question she knew she wanted to ask. 

Rebekah sank deeper into the comforting depths of the armchair, eyeing her companion from above the rim of her glass. The scowl on Hayley’s face was enough to indicate just what had transpired between her big brother and the young werewolf. 

“It’s not your fault, you know,” she said, taking a sip of… whatever it was Nik kept around the study. 

Hayley looked up, frowning. There was a world of hurt in her eyes that Rebekah knew all too well. She’d seen it time and time again in face after face. All the women who fell for her brother inevitably ended up wearing a similar expression on their face when they finally understood that Elijah would never give himself to them completely. 

Honestly, had he been anyone else, Rebekah would have accused him of having serious commitment issues. 

But this was her brother. Loyal to a fault, fiercely protective of those he loved, dotting uncle to his little niece. And so, as much as she’d rather be just about anywhere else right now, it was both her duty and burden to explain the situation. 

Especially to this particular woman, seeing as she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and her remaining in the dark would only cause more problems in the future; both for her and for the entire family. 

Rebekah sighed again, downing the rest of her drink. 

“Just so you’re aware: Elijah would have my head for even broaching the subject with him, let alone with you, so if you rat me out, I’ll make Mikael look like the easter bunny.”

The corners of Hayley’s mouth twitched, threatening a smile—an all too rare occurrence these days. It dimmed almost immediately, the kind of pain only unrequited love could bring swimming in her eyes. The werewolf sighed, propping up her chin on her knees, returning her gaze to the fire. 

“I just—” she closed her eyes, taking a breath and letting it out before trusting her voice again, “I thought we could be going somewhere, y’know?” She shrugged, tucking her fingers inside the sleeves of her sweater, “But he’s just so… remote. It’s like I can’t reach him, or something. Every time I try, he just… closes off.”

Rebekah poured herself another drink, taking a fortifying breath. 

“He wasn’t always that way.” Seeing Hayley’s eyebrows shoot up all the way to her hairline, she scoffed. “A thousand years is a very long time, you know.” Tilting her head, she decided to rip the band aid off in one clean swipe. Better to have it over and done with as quickly as possible. “When we were human, Elijah fell in love with a woman named Svala. She was…” she took a long breath, echoes of agonized screams clawing at her mind, losing herself to old memories as she gazed down at her glass. Rebekah watched them swirl in the dark amber liquid, swallowing the lump in her throat when she realized she couldn’t quite remember her face, sharp features and laughing grey eyes tangling together in soft hues, pulling her back in time despite herself.

“She was his wife, and the love of his life.”

Present-day Virginia, c. 990 A.D.

It was just after Álfablót, during the month of Haustmánuður, that the boats arrived, narrowly escaping winter at sea. Ayana had already foretold their arrival and entire families had left the village to go greet their loved ones from the old countries. The village itself waited, the old and the young, and all those whose kin had not been onboard the boats. New homes had been built—as many as possible—and there were still logs of timber scattered around in expectation for more, covered by pine needles and leaves to keep most of the coming ice at bay. 

Preparations for winter were well underway by the time the first travelers were spotted, able-bodied men and women carrying young children in their arms or on their backs, with the more travel-weary stragglers lagging behind. Only the more adventurous children seemed to have any energy left, gazing at the welcoming party with wide eyes, tugging at each other’s sleeves.

The head of the village had gone with them and there was a collective sigh of relief at his safe return. Some of the werewolves had gone too, eager to see new faces—and to warn them of what life with them would entail. 

Not that it mattered. After such a long voyage, all would have been glad of a simple meal, the warmth of a fire and the comfort of family they had not seen in years. 

Carrying her pack on her back, Svala looked up at the tall pine trees, so different from the wide oak trees of her home. She didn’t know what to make of them—she didn’t know what to make of any of it. 

Her mother had convened with her Sisters, sensing the dangers in the new religion that had made its way to their homeland, swaying their people and changing their ways. She had come back with a haunted look, telling her to pack whatever it was she loved most, and that they were leaving. Svala had raged and raged, tears in her eyes, refusing to leave and digging her heels into the ground until her mother had all but dragged her onto the boat. 

It was a great hulking beast, larger than the ships she had grown up around. It was meant for a sea voyage that would last weeks, where storms would rage and winds would blow, threatening to drown them into seas she had only ever heard about in stories. Her mother’s presence had calmed her, the hand on her shoulder heavy enough to pull her from her thoughts. 

No völva would let her people drown. 

It still hadn’t been enough to save her, though, and Yrsa Anundottir had died a week before they reached their destination, leaving her young daughter alone, cold, and scared in a new world she knew nothing about. 

A young couple, Ulf and Asta, had taken Svala under their wing. Asta, like her mother, was a völva; and quite good at it too, though she dabbled more in incantations and less in the art of divination. 

Svala had always been thankful her own powers had strayed more towards healing than the more arcane arts. She had never envied her mother’s power and, as she stood looking up at the trees in her new home, all she felt was hatred for it. Divination had brought her here, all alone, without her mother. She couldn’t help but suspect Yrsa had known all along she would not make it this far, and it only made her angrier. 

A small boy tugging on her skirts distracted her from her thoughts, his wide smile and big brown eyes warming her despite the autumn winds whipping her hair around her face. She tucked an errant curl behind her ear and smiled back, waving at him. He smiled even wider and ran back to those she assumed must be his family. He tugged on the sleeve of one of the older men, whispering in his ear something that made him laugh. 

He was handsome, with shoulder-length dark hair braided back from his face, revealing balanced features, most prominent of which sharp cheekbones and an even sharper jawline. She averted her eyes when she inadvertently met his own, the same warm brown as those of his… brother? Son? He was old enough that it could be both. 

Svala felt the pressure of Asta’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her to a clearing where an open fire pit had been lit, casting a warm glow on the charred ground beneath it. The village leader, a well-built man called Harald whom she had grown to respect over the past few weeks, had opened the welcome feast, and she noticed that those whose families had left their homeland years ago had at long last been reunited. She smiled, dropping her pack against the trunk of a nearby tree, as she observed Ulf greet his brother Magnar, the two men embracing each other. Magnar then turned to Asta, opening his arms to her and welcoming her, and Svala felt a small twinge of jealousy. 

It was petty, she knew, but she wished someone was there to greet her like that. But all she had was her small pack and the memory of her mother. 

Averting her eyes to hide the sting of tears she refused to spill for a woman who had abandoned her, Svala turned back to her meagre belongings, rummaging in search of something a little warmer. Earlier this week, they’d stopped at a stream to wash and repair their clothes, and she had taken the opportunity to refresh her winter clothes, not knowing when she’d next have the chance. 

Still, fall here seemed milder than at home, where the first snows had surely already fallen. She was hit by another wave of sadness and tied the strings of her pack with such vigor that she nearly snapped them, biting back tears when a small hand braced itself on the bark of the tree in front of her. 

“Mother says you can leave your belongings at our home. It’s not wise to leave them about like that.”

It was the little boy from earlier, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, observing her with a far more intelligent gaze then she’d come to expect for a child his age. Their speech differed slightly from hers, but she understood him well enough, and she thought she could actually make out the slight inflections of her homeland.

“Why? Would someone steal it?”

He shook his head and bent towards her, mischief in his eyes. “No, but the landvaettir might take it and hide it inside an old tree and then we’d never see it again.”

Svala blinked, then laughed. The boy’s eyes lit up, and she had the sneaking suspicion he had been trying to cheer her up. It certainly had worked—it felt so very good to express joy again. 

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She whispered conspiratorially, winking at him. 

Elated, the little boy ran back towards his family, who had dispersed into the throng of people gathered in the clearing. She saw him gesture wildly to the same man as earlier, caught the amused smile on his face before he started to make his way towards her. She dropped her gaze back to her pack, tying it off with one final tug and hoisting it on her shoulders. 

The man was tall; taller than she’d expected. He towered over her, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. Instead of making her feel caged in, it made her feel safer, an odd sensation tingling up her spine. 

Svala finally dared to meet his eyes, finding them darker than his brother’s but full of the same earnestness. He inclined his head towards her, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. It made him appear younger, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. She smiled back tentatively, her lips stinging, chapped raw by the wind and the salt. 

Before she had even taken one step, he took her pack from her, swinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed next to nothing. The little boy grabbed her hand, tugging her along to meet the rest of their family, babbling happily about how he would take her to see the clearing tomorrow, before all the leaves had fallen and Svala couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“Perhaps we should let her decide for herself what she would like to do first, little brother?” 

The boy stopped, eyeing her as he would a particularly complicated puzzle, a little storm gathering in his eyes, and she knew enough of children to recognize the beginnings of a tantrum.

“I’ll be happy to come with you to the clearing, little one,” Svala said, smiling at the glee in his eyes, “on one condition.” He looked on with rapt attention, his eyes widening. She smiled wider, “I will go, but only if you tell me your name.”

She heard the man beside her huff out a laugh. The boy snuck his tongue out at him, narrowly escaping a smack upside the head as he danced around them, avoiding his brother’s hand deftly. He reminded her of a wood sprite. 

“This impolite little imp is Henrik,” his brother said, giving up and tugging his little brother into his side, ruffling his hair. He turned towards her, warm brown eyes mirthful. 

“I’m Elijah.”

----------------

“And that’s how they met,” Rebekah sighed, getting up to refill her glass. It was a good thing she couldn’t get drunk easily; she had a feeling she would need that tolerance as the evening wore on. “Svala charmed Henrik as soon as she stepped foot inside our village and our little brother was the way to Elijah’s heart.” She took a small sip, fingers drumming on the table. “I honestly think it was instantaneous, at least on his part. I could tell he was smitten almost immediately.”

She sighed again, leaning back against the table. Hayley was silent, staring at her—although Rebekah was ready to bet the other woman wasn’t really seeing her at all. The Original suppressed another sigh. She disliked the idea of hurting her but it was unavoidable. Hayley was young, and on the cusp of love. She deserved to be pulled from the edge before she well and truly fell for her brother, a path which only ever led to heartbreak. 

“Svala’s mother had died during the crossing,” Rebekah continued, seating down on the table, “and our own mother took pity on her, I suppose. I think she could also sense Svala’s powers, which were strong even for a völva, and—”

“You used that word before, but what does it mean?” Hayley asked, straightening up and tugging the fabric of her dress around her knees, visibly shaking herself from her thoughts. 

“Völur—that’s the plural form—were witches (mostly), but also sometimes warlocks, who traveled the old countries, stopping here and there to dispense their services. Another term for a völva is seiðkona—wielder of seiðr, what you’d call magic.” 

“So she was a witch?”

Rebekah hummed, taking another sip. “Yes, but also something more. You see, modern-day witches seem to have largely lost their powers of divination. At least the ones I’ve met.” She shrugged. “Kol’s been to the East, I’m sure he would tell you more about ancient magical powers, if he could.” Rebekah cleared her throat, pushing away thoughts of her brother. “But in any case, a seiðkona could, under the right circumstances, predict the future with reasonable accuracy.” She paused, eyeing the werewolf. “Svala was one such witch, although we didn’t discover that until much later.”

Hayley nodded pensively. “So your family took her in?”

“Early on, yes. She stayed with us for a while, helping our mother and myself with household chores—don’t give me that look, it was like that, back then—and we grew close.” Rebekah swallowed the lump in her throat as the memories came rushing back. “I always had wanted a sister.”

----------------

“I do believe my brother fancies you,” Rebekah said as they crouched near the frozen stream, their fingers red and stinging from the cold. 

“Which one? You have many,” her friend answered with an impish grin. 

“Oh, stop it! You know which one!”

“Why, Rebekah,” Svala stood, batting her eyelashes innocently in her best impression of Tatia, the woman who hung on Elijah’s and Nik’s every word, “I had no idea Henrik saw me in such a way.”

That earned her a handful of freezing water to the face. Shrieking, she kicked fallen leaves at Rebekah in retaliation. 

The beautiful blonde, the only sister in a large brood of brothers, had been Svala’s salvation these past few months. They were around the same age, with Svala only a few years older than Rebekah, and of vastly different temperaments. That did nothing to stop the budding friendship between them as Rebekah helped Svala navigate life in her new environment, introducing her to their neighbors and helping her to make friends. In return, Svala had taken to helping the younger woman with her chores, lending a hand where she was needed. 

Esther, too, had been glad of the help, saying jokingly that she wasn’t getting any younger, and thus welcoming Svala with open arms. She suspected that the older witch would have wanted more daughters. Together with Asta and Ayana, Esther had also taken to perfecting the young witch’s understanding of seiðr, the trio easily stepping into her mother’s shoes. Of the three, Svala was most at ease with Asta, given that they shared a common past—or as common as anyone around here, anyway. Ayana scared her a little, but she rather thought her mother and her would have been fast friends. As for Esther, she remained undecided. 

She was grateful to the older woman—more than grateful, really—but there was still something about her that Svala couldn’t quite shake. She wondered distractedly if she should be worried that her mother’s power had managed to make its way to her, and what it was trying to tell her if it had.

“You know perfectly well which of my brothers I was referring to.”

She did. 

Elijah was still somewhat of a mystery to her. A man of few words, the only signs of his partiality came in other forms. He would help her with the more physical tasks, such as carrying buckets filled with water and snow for washing and cooking. Or he would help her skin and tan the hide of the animals the men caught on their hunts, fashioning coats and pouches from the leather. He had introduced her to his friend, the smithy, a tall, muscular man named Leif, who showed her how he made the arrowheads and knives used for hunting. 

These people did not raid, although, far from the sea as they were, she supposed it wasn’t all that unusual. They appeared to trade with some neighboring settlements, although most of these were nomadic in nature. The only other village near them was the one led by the werewolves—a people Svala had only heard her mother speak about very infrequently. There were some clans in the old country, but they lived far from towns and villages in self-inflicted exile. 

This was not the case here, where the two villages cohabited peacefully. There was, however, an undeniable current of fear around the full moon, when those not afflicted by the Curse would withdraw to the cave systems underneath their village, magical boundaries and wards in place, to wait out the moon. She supposed she understood the high status that Ayana and Esther seemed to enjoy. When faced with fangs and claws, seiðr was an attractive defense. 

She was pulled from her musings by the feeling of a strong hand on her arm. Elijah swooped in and took the heavy bucket from her, barely straining under its weight. He gave her a gentle smile and fell into step alongside her. Rebekah, the little minx, winked at her—in full view of her brother!—and escaped up the path, grumbling about how she too could use someone to help her with her own burden. As if summoned, Nik appeared at her side, easily bracing against its weight. Svala huffed a laugh when he threw her a long suffering look over his shoulder. 

“Your brother seems to never be too far from your sister,” she told Elijah quietly, laughter brightening her dark eyes. 

Those eyes of hers, the color of dark stormy skies, had been an object of fascination to him ever since he had met her. They seemed almost alive, wisps of grey and brown and blue all interweaving together, one peeking through more than the others depending on the weather. 

Of course, her eyes were not the only beautiful thing about her. It seemed to him that the gods had crafted this woman solely to plague his dreams. She filled his mind so completely, he had began to wonder about his sanity. On one occasion, he had heard her sing quietly to herself as she gathered wood for the fire, her long brown hair tumbling down her back, framing her petite frame and highlighting the curves of her body; and Elijah had almost believed he’d been taken in by a forest spirit. 

But such stories were the ones he told his youngest brother on nights he could not sleep, and he knew better. 

He did not know what love felt like; at least, not that kind of love. He knew the deep devotion he felt towards his siblings, and the lust for a warm, soft, body; but this was uncharted territory. Every time Svala was near, Elijah lost the ability to speak, unable to string more than two sentences together for fear of appearing an utter fool. His silence did not seem to bother her, so he took it as encouragement to remain just as he was, comfortable with admiring from afar. 

Which was exactly what he was doing right now. Svala was eyeing him curiously, no doubt wondering what was taking him so long. Little did she know (he very much hoped) that all he wanted to do was kiss her to find out whether her lips were as soft as they appeared. 

“Rebekah and Niklaus have always been very close,” he answered slowly, returning his gaze to his siblings in front of them, “it used to make Henrik quite jealous.”

“Is that why he’s so attached to you?”

Elijah chuckled. “No, Henrik is rather fickle in his affections. One week, he won’t leave me alone, the next, he’ll be glued to Kol’s side.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping a few octaves. “Although I think that’s mainly so he can learn new tricks and cause more trouble.”

Svala laughed. “Yes, he’s rather good at finding trouble.”

“Oh, I’m sure he would say trouble finds him.”

“An answer only a troublemaker would know to give,” she said, nodding sagely. 

They had reached the village, passing through a denser copse of old trees, the scent of pine needles overwhelming. It was one Svala had taken time to get used to, but now that she had, it filled her with a strange sort of warmth. She wasn’t sure if she could call that feeling “belonging”, but it certainly felt close to it. 

Between Rebekah’s freely given friendship, Henrik’s childlike love and Elijah’s quiet company, she had began to ease into this new life her mother had thrown her into. She still missed her home, and the wide, tall oak trees behind her homestead, but the ache was cooling, little by little. 

Of the Mikealsons, only Finn and Kol remained a little aloof. The former because it was simply his personality and the latter, she suspected, was a little shy about talking to a völva. Svala wanted to tell him he had nothing to worry about: she couldn’t predict his future even if she tried, and she had no desire to do so. The topic hadn’t even been discussed by any of her three teachers yet, although she knew Asta, at least, had some knowledge of the divination arts. Ayana and Esther seemed to think it was best left alone and Svala would tend to agree, given where her own mother’s gift had led her. 

Then again, she thought, chancing a glance at the man beside her to find him looking back at her with a small smile on his lips, perhaps that was not an entirely bad thing. 

----------------

“They kept dancing each other for weeks,” Rebekah said, shaking her head fondly in an effort to drive away memories of her friend. “It drove Nik and I absolutely mad.” 

The Original sighed, raking a hand through her blonde curls to briefly massage the back of her neck. Sitting still for so long rarely took a toll on her body anymore—she was, quite simply, too old to care—but she suspected the current topic of discussion drained her more than she’d like to admit. 

Talking about Svala was forbidden. Everybody in the family knew it, and even Nik never ever dared to speak her name when Elijah was within earshot. Her death had been a blow their older brother had never recovered from and even now, nearly a millennium after he’d buried her, she would still catch him bracing himself against some pain she couldn’t see and she knew he was thinking of her. 

“Their courtship was long, by our standards,” she continued, turning her back to Hayley as she refilled her glass for the umpteenth time that evening, “but that’s Elijah for you.”

“Why do you say that?” Hayley asked. “He’s always seemed like a man who makes up his mind quickly to me.”

Rebekah hummed into her glass. “Oh, his mind was made up, believe me. He was going to marry her, none of us—least of all him, at least at the unconscious level—had any doubts about that.” She turned back to her companion. “But you forget about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Eyeing her friend, the vampire sighed, looking down at her glass. “Our father.” She took a deep breath, hating that even now the man had such a hold on her as to make her afraid of speaking his name. “Mikael wasn’t a kind man, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she said drily, smiling slightly at the werewolf’s quiet snort, “and he wasn’t then either. I think Elijah was afraid to bring Svala into a family with such a man at the head of it.”

Rebekah sat back into her original seat, bringing her forearms to rest on her thighs, rolling her glass between her hands. “Perhaps he was right to be worried, considering everything that happened.” 

“Did Mikael hurt her?”

The Original chuckled bitterly. “Who didn’t he hurt? He hurt Nik, most of all, but he took it out on others too. Our mother never moved against him,” she bit out angrily, “and even back then, I didn’t understand why. He was strong, but she was a witch, so what was she afraid of?” She huffed. “Obviously, now, I know she was scared her little secret would come to light.” 

Hayley nodded, shifting in her seat. “Klaus’ real father?”

“The leader of the neighboring village,” Rebekah answered, noting the disbelieving look the other woman shot her. “Yes, rather stupid of both of them really, but oh well.” She shook her head, willing herself to get back on track. “But no, Mikael never laid a hand on Svala. Elijah would probably not have stopped me from trying to kill him if he had.”

Hayley’s eyes grew wide. “You tried to kill your dad?” 

Rebekah nodded darkly. “And I wish to god Elijah had let me finish the job.” 

“That’s wild.”

“Welcome to the family, love.” Rebekah gulped down the rest of her drink, thinking that she might just have to slow down if she was going to survive waking up tomorrow. “Anyway, after a few months of tentative smiles and furtive glances, Elijah finally made the first move, to our family’s collective relief."

----------------

Midsommerblót was fast approaching and with it, the height of the summer months. Offerings for the landvaettirs had been prepared, crops stood tall or sprawled over and under the soil, birds were chirping in the tall trees and it seemed every living thing was bustling in preparation for the harvest months. 

Svala herself had not been idle since the arrival of spring. With help from Elijah and Nik, as well as Leif and Ulf, she had moved into her own cottage, not too far from the Mikaelsons. It was small, but sturdy, the last of the new homes built for the newcomers. 

She would miss Rebekah’s constant companionship and the easy routine she had fallen into amongst the family, but she was glad to have a space to herself. She’d never really had that before. The home she had shared with her mother was smaller than her new one, even if her youth had been spent mostly following her mother in her travels. 

Besides, given the current climate in the Mikaelson home, Svala had no doubt Rebekah would end up sleeping here more often than not in the upcoming months, personal space be damned. Mikael had been in an even fouler mood than usual, and she had been glad to escape. Svala knew her friend well enough by now to know that her new home was about to become Rebekah’s new home too. 

Unless her brother beat her to it. 

The distance between Elijah and her was long gone, replaced by open smiles and slower touches; the kind that lingered a little too long and left her a little too breathless. As the summer solstice approached and Midsommer drew nearer, she’d began to feel the telltale pull of desire more forcefully every time he stood next to her. It grew so strong at times that she worried the others would feel it, like the current pushing her towards him. She was entirely powerless to resist it but felt no need to battle it, if only they could find themselves alone. 

But, as things would have it, between moving into her new home and preparing for the festival—as well as her daily chores and Henrik’s and Rebekah’s constant demand for her attention—she had barely had any time to herself. Let alone with Elijah. 

And yet, the infuriating man wouldn’t leave her thoughts. 

Svala shook her head ruefully, spotting Nik down the path. 

Gathering wildflowers was a task she and Nik enjoyed doing together. He always kept some tucked away for Tatia, she knew, and he’d give them to her tonight, at the feast. The others were for Rebekah, who’d just turned sixteen last week, a true child of summer. 

Together, they kept an eye on Henrik, who amused himself by crafting what flowers they brought him into crowns and bouquets. Svala had a sneaking suspicion one of these was for her, but she wouldn’t ruin his joy at giving it to her tonight. 

“So, has my brother finally kissed you?” Nik asked her out of the blue, just as they settled into the routine of their task. 

She sputtered, her cheeks glowing red, and he had the audacity to laugh at her. 

“Nik!”

“Svala!”

Speechless, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open, she rather reminded him of a fish before she burst into a fit of laughter.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he said shrewdly. 

Looking down at the handful of flowers in her basket, Svala pondered how best to answer him, when she felt a hand settle on her shoulder. She looked up, momentarily confused by his sudden change in attitude. Gone was the impish grin, instead, he looked very serious.

“My brother is often too noble for his own good,” he said, somewhat cryptically (and here she thought Esther was the only one with a penchant for the mysterious), “and has a tendency to let that get in the way of his happiness.” He paused, blue eyes studying her. “But he’s in love with you, of that I have no doubt, and if he lets you go because of our father, I will personally make him regret it.” 

Svala smiled back tentatively, before her brain catches up. “Your father? Why? Is he… opposed to me?” She couldn’t fathom what it was she’s done to incur the man’s disapproval.

She didn’t say that she was also secretly scared of not being good enough for Elijah. 

Nik shook his head, bending to pick some more flowers. “No, as a rule, I don’t believe he is but he’s a difficult man…” he hesitated, debating whether or not to share something else with her, before sighing, lowering his eyes to the ground. “He’s… violent. And unforgiving of weakness. He views love as such, and has already told Elijah off multiple times for spending too much time around you. Not that it stopped him.” He shrugged, “I think Elijah is worried about you joining our family because of how Father is.”

Svala blushed at the mention of her ‘joining’ the family. 

It’s not that the thought hadn’t entered her mind since she’d met Elijah, but völvas rarely married or had children. Asta and her mother were exceptions. And Svala herself had never met her father. All her mother would tell her was that he was a good man, a Dane, powerful, and that was that. She didn’t even know his name and probably never would. 

Not that it mattered now. She was an ocean away. 

“Is he that bad?” she asked quietly, redirecting her thoughts to the present. She knew Mikael was a hard man, but all of the men she’s met before, save for Elijah and his brothers, were—in one way or another—hard men as well. And yet, everyone seemed to tiptoe around the Mikaelson patriarch as if he was Hel* come to drag them all down to her realm. 

Nik sighed, about to speak, but suddenly froze, catching sight of something she couldn’t see. Turning around, she saw Mikael looking at them, face unreadable but eyes like thunder. He truly did look like a Viking: cold and hard, like the ice. Svala wondered if it didn’t run in his veins. Nik sighed dejectedly next to her, no doubt expecting a humiliating tongue-lashing once they got back to the village. 

No, Mikael did not seem like the type of man who would be pleased to see a son of his picking flowers with a woman. 

She held the man’s gaze, daring him to come forward. She may not be her mother, but she could hold her own if he tried anything. She didn’t miss the way Nik tensed as his father’s gaze shifts to her. Svala was half tempted to send a little jolt of magic through the man, but stopped herself when Nik’s hand slid into hers. Glancing at him, she took her eyes off Mikael and in the time it took for him to glance back, his father was already gone past the tree line. 

“Please don’t provoke him,” he begged softly, his eyes a little frantic, “Elijah would never forgive himself if Father did something to you.”

Svala stared at him, dumbfounded. Would he dare? 

Nik seemed to understand exactly what she was asking, and shook his head. She relaxed slightly, until her friend sighed again, rubbing his neck. The motion dislodged the fabric of his tunic, pushing it aside. Horrified, Svala got a glimpse of what looked like the healed marks of a lashing, scarring the flesh across his upper back. She stopped herself from rushing forward, unsure whether he meant for her to see the evidence of his father’s abuse or not. 

Nik might not share his father’s disdain for weakness but that did not mean he would welcome her pity. 

----------------

“After that, when she wasn’t with Elijah, Svala rarely left Nik’s side,” Rebekah whispered, staring into the fire as if she could will her friend back to life. “I don’t think she ever told either of them she’d seen his wounds, but she told me.” 

Together, the two women had tried to shield her brother from Mikael’s wrath as much as possible. But neither had been able to stop her parents from doing the unthinkable: binding his brother’s wolf form, denying him all ties to the man he would have been better off being raised by. 

Standing up, the Original stoked the fire, watching as the flames soar higher, losing herself to memories of another fire, in another place, a thousand years ago. 

----------------

A little off to the side, Svala watched as people danced around the bonfire that stood proudly at the center of the clearing she had arrived in only months prior. It was the biggest fire she’d ever seen, stacks and stacks of wood burning high into the night. Gathered around the clearing were the elders, amongst them Ayana and Esther, who looked on fondly as the young danced.

There was one more house on the far left side to where Svala stood and the ground was now littered with old pine needles and wildflowers. She could hardly believe it had almost been a year since her arrival in the village. So much had changed since then: the harsh bite of the cold winds was a distant memory, her loneliness was gone, and she hadn’t missed the sea for a few weeks now. There were still times were homesickness would find her, creeping into her heart when she least expected it, but those were growing few and far between.

The man largely responsible for such a change stood on the other side of the clearing, Rebekah by his side, her hair braided prettily in the style Svala knew she liked. Kol and Nik were arguing with each other, but judging by the fondly exasperated expression on Elijah’s face, it wasn’t anything she needed to worry about. 

Her own hair was swept back from her temples in two braids, barely strong enough to contain the rest of her mane as it swept down her back. Svala rarely wore it down, preferring the tightly braided style some of the shieldmaidens had worn back home. It was practical, but Midsommer was not about being practical. It was about revelry and fun, partaking in the joys of summer and enjoying the fruits of a year’s worth of hard work. 

She’d even worn her best dress, the one her mother had sewn for her back home, during one of those cold winter nights that felt like a lifetime ago. Yrsa had always been partial to green, for herself, as it highlighted her red hair, but red had always been Svala’s color, bringing out the color of her eyes and the warmer tones in her hair. But the pigments for red dye were expensive, even when supplemented with wild berries, and so this dress had only ever been meant to be worn on special occasions. Svala thought her first Midsommerblót in her new home was a rather good time to try it on.

She giggled when Henrik ran up to her, tugging Rebekah with him, and dragged them both to the center of the clearing, where the warmth of the fire was almost unbearable, to dance. The little boy spun around them in a circle, tugging at their skirts until Svala caught him, tickling him mercilessly. He shrieked with laughter, trying to escape her and drawing the attention of his older brothers. Absorbed as she was by her revenge, Svala completely missed the look of complete adoration that overtook Elijah’s face, but Rebekah certainly did not. 

She hoped someone would look at her like that too, one day. 

Bending down to swoop her little brother up into her arms, Rebekah tugged at Svala’s hand, drawing the older girl into the wide circles of the dance, turning around each other in turn as Henrik clung to her, tucked between them. Laughing, Svala came to a stop, her cheeks red from exertion, and disappeared briefly, coming back with two cups of ale. The beverage was more than welcome, a relief against the heat. Henrik clamored for a sip and Svala had all the trouble in the world keeping him off, her eyes widening playfully as she downed the rest of her cup, taunting him. 

“That’s not fair!” Henrik whined, kicking his little legs, “I wanted some too!”

“Not just yet, little one” Svala said, swooping him up to let Rebekah enjoy her own drink in peace, “but there’s some very tasty berry juice over there.”

The bribe worked, as it always did on children. Pacified, Henrik allowed himself to be led to the large oak tables, bending under the weight of the harvest. While Svala poured him a cup of fresh juice, Rebekah saw her older brother approach and, in a moment of uncharacteristic generosity of spirit, whisked Henrik away from the couple the first chance she got. 

Passing by Elijah, Henrik nearly thwarted her plan when he reached for him. Knowing her brother was powerless to refuse him, Rebekah twirled around on herself, laughing and  drawing a giggle from the child, effectively distracting him from their older brother’s presence. She made her way to another table, sitting herself and Henrik down to let him pilfer the entire platter of wild berries, stuffing them into his mouth as fast as a squirrel, his eyes growing bigger by the second as he looked at the sudden influx of people dancing around the bonfire. 

It seemed like the entire village had collectively decided to join in, couples dancing together and wider circles of people skipping together hand in hand, their chants joining the music, growing louder and louder. Had she not been familiar with Midsommer and its merrymaking, Svala would have thought herself addled by the ale. Eyeing her cup, she shrugged and took another drink, closing her eyes. 

The thing she liked the most about Midsommerblót was the music and dancing. Everyone was happy, indulging in the warmth of the summer months, enjoying the fact that it would last for some more still before the return of the cold. 

Autumns here were less colorful than in the old country. The pines did not shed their leaves and so they never turned into the bright yellows, oranges and reds Svala had known all her life, but the evergreens held a certain beauty to them. It was mostly noticeable in the winter, when everything else was dead and still, they held on. 

The one tree she always found herself drawn to, no matter the season, was the one standing tall behind the fire, its branches sweeping over the clearing, full of the green of summer. 

The villagers called it “white oak”, for the light finish of its wood when harvested, and it was magnificent. Svala thought it must have been the oldest tree here, allowed to grow into itself as the clearing was cleared of other trees some centuries ago. In the fall, its leaves turned as bright as the trees of her old home, and she never felt homesick in its presence. 

Lost in thought, she jumped slightly when she felt the press of a strong hand at her back, relaxing almost immediately when a deep chuckle sounded from just behind her. 

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”

She turned her head to the side, watching under thick lashes as Elijah’s profile came into view, his high cheekbones highlighted by the glow of the fire. Where they were standing, by the tables, its warmth was more distant, but the shiver that tingled down her spine had nothing to do with the chill. She felt the weight of his hand where it still was, pressed into her back, between her shoulder blades.

His eyes turned to her, taking her in. 

Svala had always been beautiful, but tonight, in her red dress, her cheeks warmed by more than just drink, she was even more so. Her grey eyes sparkled when she looked up at him, shimmering in the low light. They were tender, excruciatingly so, wide and open. He felt like he could lose himself to her and it would still feel like home. 

She caught her breath, noticing the way his hand slipped lower, pulling her closer until her back rested against his chest. She could still hear the music, but the sound was drowned out by the feeling of his hand caressing down her back, settling on her waist. She was pulled more firmly against him, a possessive touch to the way his fingers dug into her side. 

Slowly, Svala finished her drink, setting it down on the table beside her. Seeing that everyone else’s attention was taken up by the feast, she allowed herself to rest against Elijah’s chest, his warmth a comforting presence against her back. Her head came to rest just above his heart. If she focused hard enough, she could feel its beat against her ear. It was steady; as steady as the man it belonged to, and she knew, in that moment, that she was the one who held it. 

She felt his chin touch her hair, in a kiss or just resting there, she wasn’t sure. She simply savored the moment—the first one they’d shared since he had helped her down from the newly finished roof her house, preventing her from falling and catching her in his arms. 

His arm snaked around her, ensnaring her, his finger splayed on her hip, close to where their bodies touched. She felt that pull again, the same one she always felt when he was near, begging her to bring him closer still, until it felt like she was going to meld herself to him. 

Turning in his grasp, Svala brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles. Elijah’s breath hitched above her and when she looked up, all she saw before his lips claimed hers was the devotion shining in his eyes. 

----------------

“I was looking right at them,” Rebekah said, the mischievous look only a younger sibling could have written all over her face. “I never told Svala, but I couldn’t resist telling Elijah. I never saw him blush harder.” She laughed, shaking her head fondly. “Mostly, we were relieved he’d finally done it; their little courtship was exhausting to watch, honestly.” 

The Original looked back at Hayley, eyeing the werewolf. She was calmer, now, less jittery, and more focused on Rebekah. She honestly was’t sure if it was because of her stellar storytelling, or because the other woman was desperate for any morsel of anything related to Elijah. She couldn’t fault her for that; she knew her brother was a hard man to forget, even when it was for the best. 

She heard the telltale whoosh of another vampiric presence even before Hayley did, hybrid senses and all. 

“I do believe your squeal managed to gather everybody’s attention, sister mine.”

Rolling her eyes, Rebekah looked over at her tyrant of an older brother, busy pouring himself a drink, and nearly snorted at the way Hayley’s own eyes rolled almost all the way back into her skull. 

“Thankfully, by this point, everyone was too far gone to see what was really going on,” Klaus said, the twinkle in his eye almost fond as he looked back at her, “but, alas, I wasn’t.”

“Oh yes, because you were never one to indulge.”

Her annoying twat of a brother eyed the drink in her hand meaningfully—her sixth of the evening, she believed. Rebekah shrugged, and he softened. Of all of them, herself and Elijah excepted, Nik had been closest with Svala. She didn’t think her brother would have joined in on their conversation willingly—in fact, she rather thought he would have ran from it. 

He did love to surprise her. 

“You see, Little Wolf,” he said, the moniker falling easily from his lips, “our brother as he is today, noble to a fault and—if you squint—nearly caring, is revolting enough, but Elijah back then…” he shivered, “now that was positively nauseating.”

----------------

Elijah’s hand cushioned the back of her head against the wood behind her, his grasp there gentle even as his mouth did sinful things to hers, gliding against her lips, teasing her. He’d backed her against the side of house, away from the gathering, when neither of them had been able to contain themselves anymore. 

As soon as they had been in relative privacy, Elijah had crusher her to him, framing her face with his much larger hands and kissed her with an urgency Svala had not thought him capable of. 

She could not have been more wrong. 

His hands were all over her, sweeping over her stomach up to her breasts, and all the way into her hair, tangling in the long strands, bringing her face closer still, his kiss growing more desperate. All it had taken was for her to arch into him, drawing the length of her body against his, for him to press her against the wooden wall, a low moan escaping him. 

The tether between them was vibrating, the need to possess and be possessed urging them closer until all they could feel was each other. Her brows furrowed and Svala made a small sound of protest when Elijah pulled away, his breathing ragged against the side of her face. She felt the weight of his hips against hers, the evidence of his desire pressing deliciously on her stomach. 

Feeling bold, she let her hands wonder, sweeping over his lean hips and around to pull him towards her, arching into him when he let out another low sound of pleasure. He settled into her embrace, letting her caress up and down his back, the touch more calming than it was meant to arouse and yet managing both at the same time. 

She was so small, compared to him, he felt like he could pull her into his arms and no one would ever be able to harm her. 

Svala nibbled at his jaw, letting her head fall back to allow him to press slow kisses all along her neck. Breathing in her scent, Elijah let himself fall deeper into her arms, resting most of his much larger weight against her, but she never made a single sound of protest. 

They were both breathing more calmly now, letting the heat of their bodies cool before he did something unforgivable and made love to her for the first time right up against her house. Elijah would not let himself go enough to allow for anything else than absolute perfection whenever they did decide on sharing this moment together. 

Kissing her collarbone one last time, it took all of his willpower to pull away from her. Svala allowed it, dropping her arms from around his neck until they rested against his sides. He smirked when he realized that she was just as unwilling to part from him completely. 

Elijah let himself feel up her body once more, lingering on her soft breasts until he heard her breathing speed up again, and he knew that if she kissed him again, he would forget his resolve and drop to his knees in front of her, hide under her dress and make her forget any other name but his. 

The thought alone was the sweetest torture. 

For now, he felt contented enough to breath in her scent, pine needles and smoke mixed with the flowers she’d picked this morning, his thoughts turned to a future they would share together. 

#the originals #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x female oc #original female character #vikings #10th century AU #the originals AU #tvd AU #(i guess?) #unreliable narrator

[wholoveseggs]

~Your local egg carton~

{masterlist}

18+

THANK YOU so much for all your love and support; it truly means the world to me. lets get cracking!

Warnings: Its all mostly smut (or soon to be published smut)

~Series♡~ ~One Shots♡~ ~Requests♡~ ~Headcanons♡~

~Five days of Fluffmas♡~ ~Moodboards♡~

~About me?

hi :) my name is Lissa ♡♡

I've been writing for myself for a long time, but this is the first place I've posted it publicly. I'm thrilled so many people like my work! Especially for a show that's been over for five years~

If you have any questions or requests feel free to ask! (or if you just want to say hi!)

PS: if you know any good Elijah blogs please tag me ;) I'm looking to befriend some fellow girlies 🥰 xo-Lissa

☆☆Smut writing tips☆☆ ♡♡ One-Hundred Followers Celebration ♡♡ ❀❀ Tag-list ❀❀ Check out #lissa responds for all my replies If you rather read on Ao3- Link is here

#lissa responds #the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson smut #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson one shot #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #the vampire diaries #tvdu #ao3 #fan fiction #elijah mikaelson masterlist #masterlist #tvd #elijahmikaelson #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x fem!reader #imagine #fanfiction #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction

[buckybarnesb-tch]

A Failed Escape -Elijah M.

Warning: This fic depicts an abusive relationship and Non/Dub Con as well as eluding to threats of suicide, if you aren’t comfortable with or are triggered by these things than please do not read any further. This is a very Yandere!Elijah portrayed from the same Police!Elijah and Doctor!Klaus universe as I’ve written before. I hope I have done well in the request that was sent in, I don’t usually write Elijah like this.Smut ⚠️ Dead Dove:Do Not Eat!

For @moonlight-melanin I sincerely hope it is everything you wanted it to be🩷

Y/n didn’t believe him when he told her how far from any help they were, she had only tried to escape once and it was a massive failure…not to mention traumatic.

The trees scratched at my flesh painfully as I ran through the dense woods, trying to find a road, a house, any kind of civilization to get me away from him.

I had trusted Elijah. He had made me feel safe and protected, and then he locked me away and betrayed my trust, ensuring that I would be his forever. I love Elijah, despite everything he has done I’m still in love with him, and I hate myself for it.

I had been running for hours at this point and still not found anything but trees, exhausting myself and eventually collapsing against a large oak tree. I tried to catch my breath as my muscles aches and my thighs burned, exhaustion taking hold of me quickly and pushing me to rest my eyes for a moment…just a moment.

Waking up was disorienting. My body still hurt but I was laid on something comfortable when suddenly I felt a sting on my leg causing me to flinch and open my eyes.

‘Lay back down Y/n. I’m almost finished with these cuts.’ My blood ran cold as I heard his voice, looking down and seeing Elijah was cleaning the blood from my legs, the thorn bushes doing more damage than I thought. ‘Did you really think you would get away?’ He tossed the first aid kit aside and looked at me, waiting for an answer but all I could do was stutter. ‘I warned you, you wouldn’t find anything out there. I did you a favor telling you that, I didn’t want you to get hurt and look at you now. The closest person is 10 miles away and that’s if you so happened to choose the right direction, which of course you didn’t…is it that terrible here?’ He asked, his eyes cold and hard as he looked down at me.

‘N-no…you’ve been good to me.’ I stated, trying to calm him down.

‘And yet you ran away. You ran through the woods while I wasn’t home like you were desperate to escape me. I saved you, I’ve taken care of you, given you better than that idiot ever did or could and you do this?!’

‘Elijah, I’m sorry. I…I got scared when you-you said I couldn’t leave, I shouldn’t have-‘

‘But You Did! You Left Me!’ He shouted and I tried to pull my legs to my chest, his hand gripping my calf so tightly it felt like the bone would snap. ‘I love you! You’re my everything! My life, and you ran away-‘

‘I love you too, I-‘ all of a sudden his hand was wrapped around my throat and gripping it tight, cutting off my ability to breathe which left me gasping and clawing at his hand.

‘Don’t you lie to me! You left me! You abandoned me! I gave you everything, I risked my job helping you and bringing you here, saved you from ruining your whole life and gave you someone who was here for you! Worshipped the ground you walked on, And You Left Me!’ He was now leaning over me as he held my throat and with the last bit of strength I had I clutched into his shirt and tugged at it pathetically, watching as his eyes widened and he looked down at his hand, releasing me and allowing oxygen to flow into my lungs. I gasped deeply, painfully as I took in air and felt my throat still burn and ache in agony from his strong grip. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’ I was shocked as he said this, staring at him in silence. He had just choked me within an inch of my life and he was apologizing? ‘I’m so sorry Bunny, oh baby!’ He suddenly hugged me around my waist, head on my stomach as he held me firmly and apologized over and over again. Eventually I reached down, running my fingers through his hair to calm him, afraid of him getting worked up again.

‘I’m okay.’ I told him, my voice strained and he looked up at me with soft eyes. ‘I’m sorry too-‘

‘No. No baby, it’s okay. I know I scared you when I told you that you can’t leave I just…I love you so much. I need you all to myself, and you make such bad choices on your own that I need to protect you. I never should have hurt you. Please forgive me?’ He begged, moving to press his lips to mine sweetly and while I should have been repulsed by it, there were butterflies in my tummy like every time Elijah kisses me so sweetly. ‘I can make it up to you, I can make you feel better. I promise.’ He pressed his lips to mine again and his needy attitude was different than ever before. His hands pulled my shirt off before connecting our lips again and trailing his lips down my jaw before kissing my throat tenderly. He had never been this gentle before and I wasn’t sure what to do with it, so startled I couldn’t find it in me to object to anything he was doing. As he unclipped my bra and tossed it to the side he kissed down my collarbone and over my breasts. ‘So perfect, my beautiful girl.’ I gasped as he sucked one of my nipples between his lips and couldn’t hold in my moan at the feeling. He had always been rough and desperate with my breasts but his gentle treatment was doing amazing things to me, all while he pulled my shorts and panties down my legs carefully, not wanting to hurt any of the cuts on my skin. He kissed down my stomach, pushing my legs apart to make room for him before kissing my clit several times, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine as he did.

‘Oh God!’ I screamed as his lips sucked my clit hard, tongue coming out to play with it roughly and I couldn’t keep my hips still as he did, but unlike ever before he didn’t stop them, allowing me to grind against his mouth desperately. ‘Ah! So close! Please?! Eli, please!’ He pulled back suddenly, lifting me up and causing me to squeal, hauling me up and laying back on the pillows as my knees settled next to his head.

‘Take what you need Bunny, sit on my face until you can’t take it anymore.’ His tongue peeked out again, teasing my clit and prompting me to grab ahold of the headboard and grind my pussy down against his mouth. He moaned, sending a vibrating feeling through my clit, the fingers of my right hand finding his hair and holding his head still as I ground my hips down and felt that tight feeling in my belly snap.

‘Oh fuck! Yes! So good! Don’t stop, please?’ He didn’t move, not pulling back for air even once as he shoved his tongue deep into my cunt and fucked me with it. His nose was rubbing against my clit as he did and I couldn’t help riding his mouth roughly as I climbed so high so fast, being thrown into a second orgasm less than a minute after the first. Elijah was seemingly desperate, trying to continue sucking on my clit again when I pulled away, the second orgasm making me too sensitive to continue immediately and I crawled back down to lean against him and see his wet mouth. ‘That was amazing…you’ve never done that before.’

‘I want to make you feel good baby, I only ever want to make you feel good. I hate it when you make me hurt you.’ I was startled by that as he grabbed his shirt and wiped his face clean, that was when he took hold of my hips and pulled me down farther, having removed his pants and pushing himself into me, stretching me deliciously but still uncomfortably as I was so sensitive. ‘I’m gonna make you feel so good baby!’ He pulled back and shoved himself into me again before beginning to move my hips with his hands and making me ride him.

‘Oh God! So Good! Don’t stop Eli! Please don’t stop?!’ I begged as he continued thrusting up into me at a steady pace, picking up speed as my third orgasm teetered just on the edge.

‘Never! Never gonna stop Baby, I’m all yours, forever. You know that right?’ He asked, almost whining as he forced me to look down into his eyes. They were soft and desperate but there was still something dark, deep inside of them that was always there. ‘You know how much I love you, don’t you? More than that boy ever did or could, all he did was hurt you, get you in trouble, the kind of trouble that would have ruined you if I wasn’t there-Fuck-I love you so much Bunny…you-you love me too…don’t you?’ The worry and fear in his eyes was enough to make me want to be sick.

‘Yes! Yes Elijah! Love you so much!’ His cock was pounding into me almost painfully hard at this point and I was so close to the edge I would have signed my soul to Satan if he just let me cum!

‘You won’t leave me again…Promise me! Promise me Bunny, you won’t run away from me again-I can’t live without you Baby, I won’t! I’ll die without you, do you hear me?! I’ll Die!’

‘Never leaving you! Never! I Promise! Please-Please I Can’t-‘

‘Cum for me Bunny, my good girl!’ He slammed his hips into mine painfully hard and as I felt him cum the tightness in my belly snapped and I cried out, collapsing against him as he pulled me into a deep kiss. ‘I love you Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll never hurt you again, never.’

Later that night I found myself freshly showered and clean, thanks to my police officer boyfriend. Elijah brushed his fingers through my hair, resting my head on his chest as I began drifting off, completely fucked out after he jumped me again before the shower, twice during, and again after. His fingernails against my scalp felt magical as he tried to relax me enough to fall asleep in his arms.

‘No more running from me, okay? If I have to come and search for you again, it won’t be this much fun…’ I shook my head instantly as he said this, knowing that I never want to relive this moment, even if it means I never get away…maybe staying with Elijah isn’t so bad…it could be much worse.

‘No more running away…and no more hurting. Promise?’ Elijah leaned down, kissing my head with a smile on his face.

‘Promise. I love you…my little baby Bunny.’

Elijah Mikaelson Masterlist

#vampire #the vampire diaries #the originals #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #tvdelijah #elijah x y/n #elijah x reader #elijah x oc #elijah imagine #elijah fic #Elijah fluff #elijah mikaelson imagine #Elijah Mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #yandere elijah mikaelson #Yandere!elijah #yandere!elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson x oc #daniel gillies #Police Officer!Elijah #Police Officer!Elijah Mikaelson #Yandere Elijah #sub!elijah

[ladymarvel27]

Y/N: Whoa! It's really dark outside. Elijah: Y/N: But you know what, I'm not scared or anything. Elijah: Y/N: Like, who is scared of the dark these days? Obviously not me. Elijah: Do you want me to hold your hand? Y/N: Yes, please.

#elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson the originals #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson incorrect quotes #the originals incorrect quotes #the originals #the vampire diaries

[elijahslittleprincess]

His Pretty Little Angel

Elijah had left early morning that day. He didn't even waited for you to wake up and wish you a nice one, he just left for you don't know what reason. It had frustrated you to wake up without your daddy asside of you to give you cuddles and morning kisses, it just felt empty...

It wasn't usual for Lijah to leave you alone like this really. He normally was quite always with you and was carefull to make sure you stayed safe and protected at all time...After all, like he always said, you were his perfect little princess and he couldn't risk anything to happen to yo, but anyway.

Apparently, this morning something important enough had happen for him to let go of you and you weren't pleased at all...

You woke up with a groan, letting your head fall on your pillow grumpily. The first thing you had done was to reach for Elijah to get closer to him but you felt his side empty and cold. Your eyes had opened themselves suddenly and you felt your heart skipping a beat of two. You needed him, badly at this and you looked all around the room to check if he wasn't in the bathroom or just getting dressed like he sometime does but nothing. Only silence and emptiness. Well...that was certainly inconvenient. It sometimes happened for you to wake up and need him more that usual and in those situations, it was an immediate attention you wanted and we'll...today just happen to be one and he wasn't there. You immediately came out of bed, feeling a little dizzy because of how fast you stood. Then, you walked out of your shared bedroom in your cute hello kitty fluffy pijamas and started looking for him.

Daddy!?

Only silence followed. You continued your research and looked around all the house like that to no avail. He was defenetly not there.

You started to feel sad and your eyes were a bit watery. It was bad...

All sad and a bit desperate you decided to go back toward your bedroom silently, feeling like just crying yourself back to sleep.

But then, you heard the sound of the front door opening and your heart stutter. You tought it was Elijah and you couldn't keep your smile to come right back to your lips while going straight to the front door.

Deception...it wasn't Elijah...it was Rebecca that came to look after you for the day. Don't get it wrong, you loved Rebecca because she was sweet and gentle with you but she just...she wasn't Elijah. The smile you had disappeared immediately at the view of her and your tears followed suit.

Hey y/n, I...

The poor blonde didn't even had the time to finish her sentence that you were gone. You just didn't really cared about it all right now, you needed to be alone and you immediately went to your room to lock yourself in it. You didn't wanted to talk to anyone but Elijah and see anyone but him. In the room, the first thing you did was to discard your pijamas from your body and go directly into you daddy's wardrobe. Then, not caring about what you took and if it was ok to do so, you grabbed Elijah's favorite shirt and put it on. It smelled like him...so so much and you felt a bit better after getting it on. After that, you just got back on the bed and layed on his side of the bed, taking his pillow against you just to be able to feel a bit like you were holding him.

It wasn't nearly the same but for now it would have to do because he...he abandoned you.

You didn't care about Rebecca the other side of the door calling your name to open the door or for her apparent worry. It was sweet of her but you just wasn't in the mood. At some point, you must have fallen asleep again tired of crying and thinking about your man because you woke up later, much later to...to his voice.

Y/n sweetheart can you open the door for daddy.

Your cute and puffy eyes opened and looked at the door in uncertainty. Did you just imagined his voice or he was really back. Was it your fuzzy sleepy brain that was playing you?

Well, you took your phone on the nightstand and sniffed a bit before looking at the screen...6h30.

You apparently cried and slept all day long...

Just before you looked back at the door in wonder, you heard his voice again and your heart flutter in your chest, your breath catching up.

Baby girl...don't make daddy repeat himself, I really don't want to have to go trough the door princess.

Your eyes went wide at his words and you stood right up to get to the door hurriedly. You had his pillow still pressed against your chest and you were still wearing his t-shirt. It looked quite adorable to be honest and when you opened the door and fall face to face with Elijah, his eyes soften and he immediately took you into his strong arms.

Awn my sweet little princess...you missed daddy quite bad hum.

Elijah said with a gentle and loving voice he only used with you. He saw your eyes that still were red from the crying and how much you had tried to get his sent all over yourself. He felt bad for leaving you alone and just sigh before kissing your forehead and your cheeks softly.

I'm sorry my little love...I had to leave, Niklaus caused trouble again and like always I'm the one to repair his mess.

You listened to his voice like a soft melody and just pressed your small frame against his chest the closest you could. You needed his body on yours and to feel him close.

Elijah just got to the bed again and sat on it with you in his lap, caressing your face with the palm of his hand.

Now tell me my sweet angel, what do you need hum? Daddy's here now ok he's going to take good care of his princess.

Your eyes met his at his demand and you looked deep in thoughts for a slight second. Then your just spoke up with a childish and adorable voice.

Can I have a kissy daddy.

Elijah smiled at you brightly before noding, his hand under your chin now and the other playing with your soft brown hair.

But of course you can my little princess...always.

After saying that, Elijah brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly at first. However, since apparently you both had craved each other the kiss deepen quite fast and you ended up letting a cute moan out of your lips as your vampire devoured your pinkish lips.

Daddy...

You both continues Kissing and Elijah started to delicately lay his hand on your body. Felling the curves of jt and the delicate skin of your naked legs. He was starting to get a bit more hungry of you and you could feel it in the way his strong hand gripped your hips.

Hum baby girl...your making daddy all excited with those cute sound of yours.

Elijah said with this deep and attractive voice of his and a smirk that you just couldn't resist really. He was just so sexy and his cologne was making you crazy...you had craved his touch all day and now you had him.

Elijah started to kiss your neck like he knew you loved so much and lay sweet bite and kisses.

You closed your eyes at it because it felt so good and you just angled your head to the side to leave him more space to work on you. Little whine and whimper left your mouth at his sweet touch before you felt his hand delicately sliding over your underwear that was wet with your excitation.

Hum...such a good girl for daddy...all ready for him to play hum my sweet princess?

You moaned at his words and opened back your eyes to let them fall on his that were dark with desire.

Mhh please daddy...

Elijah smirked at how much you needed him and brought his lips to your ear to whisper seductively and sensually.

Daddy what little girl hum? What do you want...

You bite your lips and layed your forehead against his feeling his breath in your face. You moaned and just answered him with a cute needy voice.

Please daddy play with my kitten...mhh im feeling all warm down there.

Elijah let a little groan out of his lips before he breathed hard.

Ok little girl...you remember the magic word if you want daddy to stop mh?

You nod energicly before leaving a wet kiss to his lips getting about impatient.

Yes daddy...

Say it to me love be a good girl.

Blood red...you said while unconsciously moving your his on his lap to try and satisfies your need for his touch.

Mh good my little angel I'm proud of you. Now...let daddy have some fun with this pretty body of yours...

You just stayed there and let him do what he wanted after that, feeling Elijah's fingers delicately pushing your underwear to the side and run a finger in your folds. You let a little moan out of your lips at this and felt yourself blushing at how wet you were.

God princess, your completely soaked...is it all for daddy him sweetheart.

He said with a voice that was honestly not really a question...you knew he was possessive of you and that Elijah wanted to hear you say it.

You bite your lips and nod gently with a small moan as you felt his fingers playing with your excited clit.

Mhh yes daddy all yours...please huff pls daddy I need more.

Elijah chuckled at your ministration and bite your shoulder to leave a mark of his possession of you.

Oh you do hum my little princess...what do you need more, tell me darling use your pretty voice. Tell daddy what you want him to do.

You blushed even more at this and you let out a little whimper...

Mh daddy i...I need your fingers...in my kitten please...

The second you said that, you heard Elijah let a groan out and penetrated your tight pussy with two fingers right away. It was tight and deep and you let out a little cry at it.

Elijah started to slowly slide his digits in and out of you and to go faster and faster. Not long after you were a moaning mess and you had difficulty to keep yourself from literally thinking.

Daddy daddy! I'm coming mh please...please go harder.

Elijah continued to suck in your neck hard and bite it, fucking your sore pussy recklessly. At some point your daddy's mouth found yours and you both kissed desperately.

Common baby girl cum on daddy's fingers like a good girl.

It was the only thing you needed really. For him to tell you that you could cum and you did, letting everything go with a literal yell of his name that you repeated again and again until you came down your peek.

Mhhh daddy...I love you so much...

You spoke up to him as your lips met again.

I love you to baby girl.

#tvd elijah #yandere elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #the vampire diaries #vampire #daniel gillies #the vampire diaries elijah #the originals imagine #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah x reader #tvd universe #elijah tvd #tvd smut #tvd x reader #the vampire diaires rp #vampire diaries #smut #elijah x y/n #elijah mikaelson fluff #the originals x you #the originals #the originals fanfiction #mikaelson family x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine

[venusbyline]

hey, i promise i didn't ghost you guys. i just had some academic setbacks due one of my college projects, but everything is okay now.

soon i'll post a Kol Mikaelson x Fem!Reader one-shot that i'm almost finishing and i'll also be able to write all your other requests <3

#venusbyline #fanfiction requests #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson #the originals x reader #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #kol mikaelson fanfiction #smut fanfiction #my writing #writing requests #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #my fic #fic writing #fic wip #klaus mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x female reader #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson x oc

[ex-coolgirl]

Klaus Mikaelson x Cordelia Catapang (OC)

Love reading Klaus fics with oc’s and decided to come up with my own oc, shamelessly having my oc as Filipino as you don’t really see many of those (yet alone an Asian oc 😅) so I thought I try and contribute 🤷‍♀️

Cordelia is a 21 year old werewitch who moves to New Orleans after dropping out of nursing school to see if she can find any information on her werewolf side of the family. Unfortunately for her she gets tangled with the originals, especially the big bad hybrid.

I try to post at least once a week, though work has started to get busy and I’m sick as a dog rn🫠

Currently have prologue + six chapters up which can be read on either wattpad or ao3!

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson fanfic #original female character #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #to #the originals #tvd klaus #tvdu #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #hayley marshall #tvd universe #marcel gerard #werewolves #vampires #witches #the vampire diaries #niklaus mikaelson #romance #supernatural #witchcraft #hope mikaelson #original character #poc oc #asian oc #a new start

[peanut-butter-parkerxx]

a reminder that you guys can request anything you like by the google form here!! so PLEASE get creative with your ideas ;)

#peter parker #fluff #imagines #marvel #peter parker fluff #jj maybank #peter parker x reader #jj #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson #jj maybankxreader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #the originals #outerbanks #spiderman x oc #spiderman x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman #jj fluff #jj x reader fluff #tom holland fluff #smut #oneshot #x reader #angst

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Story Summary: It's been ten years since Lucie LeMarche last set foot in New Orleans. But when she's forced to return to bury the woman who raised her, she finds herself pulled into the midst of rising supernatural tensions in the city. Entangled in a web of intrigue and seeking answers, Lucie must learn to navigate a powder keg of warring factions, family secrets, and old wounds if she hopes to survive.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Language, Death, Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Family Drama, Gore, Depictions of Violence, Death

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

Chapter 10: The Rebekah Mikaelson Home for Wayward Girls

Elijah dreams. An endless loop of images, fabrications of his unconscious mind that meld with a thousand years of memories into a dizzying blend of joy and agony. But he does not wake. The ash-tipped dagger in his chest ensures it.  

It is far from the first time his brother has imposed this particular punishment, and through each daggering he maintains some shred of himself, enough to understand that he’s asleep—most of the time.

He leans against the base of a pale oak. The dense stand of trees at his back shiver in the breeze, their weighted boughs unburdening themselves of fragrant white blossoms as the birds chirp out the songs of new spring. 

The last snow of a hard winter is behind and the entirety of the village is out to banish away the cold and welcome the coming of the warmer months. 

In a sunny patch, Rebekah settles in the grass with a handful of village girls, her coltish legs stretched out in front of her to work on her offering. She hums sweetly, tongue peeking out in focus as she weaves the choicest of her harvested early blooms into a crown of flowers. 

A shout rings out. Elijah follows the sound with his eyes to a point just beyond, hand hovering over his dagger. He eases when he finds the source. Niklaus pins Kol to the ground, the sound of the younger boy’s outrage being what reached him. Just beyond, Henrik’s head shines like gold in the sun as he watches his brothers spar in a mixture of glee and envy. 

Father and Finn are already hard at work erecting the altar alongside the other men. The task of collecting kindling is assigned to the younger boys. His eyes fall to a discarded pile of twigs beyond his wrestling brothers, duty forgotten. 

He should intervene, coax them back on task, lest they risk provoking Father. His anger has always made Elijah nervous, a feeling that only builds with time. With each passing year, it seems his outbursts are more frequent, ramping up in intensity. He lashes out at all of them save perhaps Henrik, who is still too young to enrage him. But the greatest burden of his rages always, always falls on sensitive, gentle Niklaus. For him, the words are sharper and the blows harder in a way that only grows more disproportionate as his brother edges closer to manhood. Though he would never admit it out loud, lest he injure his adolescent pride, he worries for his brother. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Niklaus lifts his head, strands of long hair mussed from his efforts, and diverts his attention from Kol’s thrashing to meet Elijah’s stare. His lips curl into a triumphant grin, the one that shows his dimples. 

Oh, let them have their fun. For a little longer, at least. Besides, Elijah has his own offering to consider. 

He gives his brother a nod, leaving them in the clearing to delve deeper into the woods. 

The light stretches between the branches. Early afternoon eases past midday. Later, under the full moon, the community will gather to celebrate the spring and leave their gifts for Freyr. 

He’s been tracking the stag for an hour now. The bow grip is rough beneath his calloused palms, his steps light as keen eyes follow the soft imprints of hooves in the brush. 

The pigs, grown fat through the winter, will be sacrificed. But Elijah wants something special to give for reasons beyond religious devotion. Though he’s past the infatuations of adolescence, he is not immune to the desire to impress a maid, especially not a fierce, wild beauty such as Tatia. 

His lips still burn with the memory of kisses stolen in quiet moments between chores and duties. These are memories he squirrels away, to revisit like a hoard of treasure. 

He hopes the stag will be enough to assure the young widow of his ability to provide for her and her child. 

A rustle of movement steals him from thoughts of Tatia. He pivots to the left, bow drawn, and freezes.

There, in a slight clearing between the trees, stands the stag and it is beautiful. The column of its elegant neck strains toward, unaware of his presence as it bellows for its mate. 

Slowly, very slowly, he reaches back to his quiver. His fingers brush through the feathered fletching as he draws an arrow and nocks it. 

He inches forward. A twig snaps. The beast reels its great head around to face him, lovely dark eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

Elijah is not sentimental, not in matters of survival. Yet, he finds himself reluctant to snuff out such a life.

He hesitates.

The stag is about to flee. He sees it in the tensed muscles, the trembling limbs. It forces him to make a snap decision. 

The arrow propels from its rest, sailing forward in a straight arc.

There is a thud as it lands, a wail of pain, the rumble of the creature colliding with the earth. 

And then silence. 

The regret is instant. His hands tremble as he approaches his quarry, his bow discarded somewhere behind him. The creature is still alive, barely. Its chest heaves with the strain of its final breaths. Half tangled in the brush, it thrashes feebly to free itself. He approaches it with a cautious reverence, determined to ease its final moments. 

The hide is wiry to the touch as he sets a hand to its ribs, murmuring soothing, senseless sounds. With his other, he untangles its legs. He strokes it a few times in reassurance, avoiding its wide eyes as he unsheathes his dagger. The creature settles beneath his ministrations, movements becoming less frantic. He continues to soothe the beast, careful in his motions lest it catch a glimpse of iron. He steadies himself with a cycle of breaths. The dagger rises, and he thanks the stag for its life and nature for the gift, just as his mother had taught him. 

Elijah exhales. The blade strikes true. Straight to the heart, death is immediate.

But something happens the second he hits his mark. Beneath the dagger, the beast transforms. Hooves and haunches yield to long legs and fur to thick, dark hair matted with blood. 

Desperate and frightened, he turns it over onto its back. He cannot contain the cry of horror, of grief, as he stares into Tatia’s dark, sightless eyes. 

What has he done?

Trapped in the recesses of his mind, there is nothing to do but weep and wait for this dream to end and the next to begin.

____

It’s a fourteen-hour drive from Mystic Falls to New Orleans. When she isn’t flipping through radio stations, Rebekah spends most of the trip trying and failing to stay out of her own head. 

For the first couple of hours, her thoughts are cotton candy sweet. Memories of sunset kisses in Rome and sipping expensive champagne in Paris as she stares into Matt Donovan’s baby blue eyes. She never expected to like him as much as she does, but something about his self-effacing, small-town quarterback charm has allowed him to worm his way into her affections. 

It’s a dangerous place to be if she’s being honest with herself—something she’s been working very hard on lately. Despite all of Niklaus’ jabs, she is well aware of her tendency to dive blindly into love. And it would be so easy to let herself fall in love with Matt Donovan.

She also knows that her love interests tend to end up dead. While Matt has many good qualities, durability is not one of them. 

That’s why, somewhere in Arkansas, she resigns herself to letting him go, to accepting their European tryst as a passing fancy. Painful, but better for them both in the long term.

Beyond an aching heart and an unfortunate confrontation with some vulgar nightwalkers in a backwater dive bar, she reaches the outskirts of New Orleans with relative ease. 

She fiddles with the dial, settling on a classic rock station. Not her favorite, but the only thing coming through without static in this part of the state. In the convertible’s rearview mirror, she dabs a finger to her cheek, determined to clean off the blood before it dries into a disgusting crust. 

Each mile that brings her closer to the city forces her to confront her growing anxiety.

It’s been weeks since she’s heard from Elijah. Some amount of distance between her and her siblings is normal. When tallying time in the centuries, it’s not unheard of to go months without contact. Yet something about this stretch of silence seems off. One day, Elijah has been proselytizing about the baby as a chance at redemption for them all and trying to convince her to join his latest crusade for Niklaus’ soul. Then…nothing. 

If the abrupt drop off in communication is strange, his refusal to answer any of her calls over the last two weeks is damning. 

The headlights catch the trees as she turns onto the unpaved back road, their trunks made skeletal by the beams. 

She sighs. 

Though she would rather die than say it out loud, she’s worried about Nik too. She knows him too well to believe he’s as indifferent to his new situation as he would have her believe—not her mercurial, sensitive brother who lashes out when things get tough and turns to violence instead of dealing with the deep well that is his emotions. All she can hope is that whatever outburst he’d chosen to vent upon Elijah, it’s something they can come back from. 

The tires crunch against the dirt as she urges the car to a stop. The white doric columns frame the mansion, adding to its imposing aura. She’s out in an instant, the red door closing behind her with a slam as she tries to call Elijah one more time.

She gets his voicemail. Again. 

“Elijah, if not answering your phone is part of your clever plan to get me back to this godforsaken city, then well done.” She uses the irritation to propel her towards the door. It makes it easier to forget where she is. “I’m here, and I’m worried. Now pick up before I kick in your bloody door.”

Her heels echo against the front steps. She doesn’t bother with the doorbell. It’s not like she needs to be invited in. 

The foyer is just as she remembers, even at first glance. Her eyes graze over the intricate white panels, the priceless runner, the carved stair railing—

“Who the hell are you?” 

She checks at a woman coming down the stairs. Her dark hair hangs in a curtain just past her shoulders, her brow arched in question over hazel eyes. 

“Oh, you must be the maid. My bags are in the car—get them, will you?”

The woman’s plump, bowed lips curl into a wry smile. Rebekah barely registers the fire iron in her hand until she sets it down. 

“Hello,” she says. “Not the maid.”

Recollection stirs. She’s seen her face before. 

“Right. You’re that werewolf girl my brother, Klaus, knocked up,” she replies, rocking back on her heels. Her eyes rake over the woman’s slim frame, curiosity getting the better of her. “I was expecting to see some kind of supernatural miracle baby bump. Guess you’re not showing yet. It’s Hayley, isn’t it?”

“You have your brother’s manners.”

“And his temper, too, so watch it,” she fires back. Exchanging cuts with the wolf girl is all well and good, but she’s been on the road for a day straight and her patience is wearing thin. “Where’s Elijah?”

She cranes her neck, straining to survey the landing at the top of the stairs, down the long hall in front of her, as if she might glimpse him. 

“Beats me. He’s long gone.”

Rebekah’s focus snaps back to the wolf girl. “What do you mean, ‘long gone’?”

Hayley shrugs. 

“Well, one minute he was here making epic promises about protecting me in this predicament that a bottle of scotch and some bad decisions got me into—he was all poetic about how we’re family—and then Klaus told me he bailed. Guess that’s what I get for trusting a vampire.”

Though it only confirms what she already suspects, dread sinks in all the same. Whatever happened to Elijah, Nik is behind it. 

“Elijah is not just any vampire, and he doesn’t break promises.” Defensiveness creeps into her tone. It’s not Hayley’s fault, not really. There’s no way she could know how wildly out of character his disappearance is, but it feels better to vent her worry somewhere. She exhales, “Which means Niklaus has done something dastardly and Klaus-like. 

Hayley comes down a few more steps, looking perplexed. Rebekah pays her no mind. She has a bone to pick with her brother. 

“KLAUS! Get out here and tell me what you’ve done with our brother, you narcissistic, back-stabbing wanker!”

The doors at the end of the hallway swing open. Somewhere overhead, the floorboards creak. But Rebekah has no time to consider because at that moment the object of her anger steps out into the hall. 

“Enough with all the shouting,” he says reproachfully. Then he stops, seeming to register her presence for the first time. “Little sister, I should have known. I assume the six dead vampires were your doing?”

“They were very rude,” she sniffs. “Trying to victimize a poor, innocent girl just trying to find her way to the Quarter. So sorry, were they friends of yours? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have any friends.”

“I do have friends.” In any other situation, the defensiveness in his voice would have been amusing. Right now, it’s infuriating. “I have Marcel. You remember him, don’t you? Yes, of course you do. He fancies himself the ‘King of the Quarter’ now, and he has these rules about killing vampires. It’ll be fun to see what sort of punishment he comes up with for you.”

“I don’t care about Marcel or his rules,” she snaps and ignores the way her stomach swoops into the floor. “Elijah doesn’t welch on deals. What did you do to him?”

“Perhaps he’s on holiday... or taking a long autumn nap upstairs. Well, go on. Take a look around.” She wants nothing more than to rake her nails across his smug face. She opts for a storm-off instead. “You remember this house as well as I.”

She freezes, turning to face him. Her voice is low and full of venom when she says, “I remember everything.”

The siblings lock eyes, blue on blue, stuck in a silent stand-off. 

The stairs groan. Her head snaps towards the noise, breaking the tension. 

Near the top of the stairs, Rebekah finds another young woman, watching her from the railing. 

“Oh, for the love of — Are we running a boarding house now, Nik?” she cries, throwing her hands up. “Who the bloody hell are you?” 

“Rebekah, meet Lucie,” Niklaus says, with that damned smirk of his. “I’d suggest you play, nice. You never know when you may be in need of her services.”

“'Services?' — Ew!” she cries out, feeling ill. “A prostitute, Nik? Really?”

“Excuse me?” 

She ignores her brother’s restrained delight for the woman at the top of the stairs. 

Her eyes are narrowed, glaring daggers down at her. She’s a little slip of a thing, slight even at this distance. But she doesn’t flinch when Rebekah levels her with a withering look of her own, only tightens her grip on the banister. 

Brave, but stupid. Oh, well. She’ll be easy enough to humble. 

Before the situation can escalate, Niklaus interjects, “Easy now, sister. Lucie is a witch. She’s graciously agreed to assist us.” 

A witch? Rebekah’s nose crinkles in distaste. Lovely.

She looks from the girl to Niklaus and back again, suspicious.

Where in the hell had he found this one?

It takes only a cursory glance to know she’s not Niklaus’ type. Dark-haired, where Nik leans to blondes. Though she supposes that didn’t stop him from knocking around with the wolf girl. Rebekah shudders despite herself and turns her attention back to the witch, eager to move away from the topic of her brother’s sex life.  

Her hair is swept up into a ponytail that falls in a wave of messy curls over her shoulder. Large brown eyes stare at her from a heart-shaped face. Her posture is rigid, but Rebekah senses something softer behind it, an aura that all but screams ‘save me’—

Rebekah rolls her eyes. 

Elijah. 

She should have known. Her older brother is nothing if not predictable. She only wonders how long after meeting the twit he’d waited before charging in to play knight in shining armor. 

She resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. Here she is with one brother missing and the other inexplicably in possession of a familiar pregnant werewolf and a less familiar temperamental witch. She has no idea what’s going on. 

It’s all very annoying, but she supposes she should count her blessings. It could be worse; she could be staring down yet another simpering doppelgänger. Rebekah nearly snorts. God knows she’s seen enough of Tatia’s face to last ten more lifetimes. 

“Congrats on the collection of supernatural captives, Nik. You almost have a full set. Now where is Elijah?”

Her brother isn’t listening. She stamps down her impotent fury as he sails past her and towards the door, typing on his phone. 

“Where are you going?”

“It appears the night is not quite over yet,” he explains, not bothering to look as he grabs his keys. “I’m off for another drink with Marcel.”

“Elijah told me about your plan to take apart Marcel’s empire piece by piece. I don’t remember it involving you two drinking New Orleans dry together.”

That gets his attention, she notes with satisfaction. It’s short-lived. The look on his face as he turns to her warns her he’s about to say something rude. 

“I know you don’t have many friends, Rebekah, but what some friends do when they get together is they drink,” he says, dripping with condescension. “And when they drink, they tell secrets. Marcel has somehow found a way to control the entirety of witches in the Quarter, and I aim to uncover the ‘how’ so I might take it for myself. Finding Elijah didn’t make my to-do list today.”

With that, he turns and leaves, the door closing behind him. But not before adding, “Oh, and welcome home, little sister.”

Well, she was right. That was very rude. And she’s no closer to finding Elijah than when she got here.

She sighs, rounding on the two women staring from the stairs. 

“You,” she calls up to the witch, who’s making her way down the stairs. “What did the locator spell tell you?”

She halts her descent. “Locator spell?”

“You mean to tell me you haven’t even tried one yet?”

“I didn’t—I…thought he left.”

Perfect, just perfect.

“Must I do everything by myself?” Rebekah groans. At least the girl has the good sense to look sheepish. “Wolf girl, I’m going to search this house inch by inch until I find what my evil brother has done to my good one. You’re helping. You too, witch. Come on.”

Something in her tone works because the other women fall in line behind as she leads them deeper into the house and towards the winding staircase that leads to the cellar. 

She pauses, hand on the doorknob, and turns to the witch girl as if something had just occurred to her. “You’re not pregnant too, are you?”

It’s a joke—sort of. She fights a smile as she’s rewarded with a look of abject horror. 

____

“This home once belonged to the governor. He had lots of secret rooms. I’ll show you his favorite,” she explains as they arrive in the middle of a dank cellar room. Cobwebs line the walls, only adding to the musty, morbid atmosphere.

She hears a gasp over her shoulder. While she isn’t sure which girl it comes from, she knows what they’ve found.

“Are these…coffins?” Lucie asks, incredulous at the same time Hayley says: “You think Klaus killed him.”

Rebekah sighs, rubbing away the dust tickling her nose as she roots about near the caskets. 

“We can’t be killed, silly girl. That doesn’t stop Klaus from finding ways to torture us. He has a set of mystical silver daggers. One in the heart sends us into a deep slumber. Klaus gets his jollies from keeping us in a box until he decides to pull the dagger out. That must be what he’s done to Elijah.” She pauses in front of a black box near the middle. “This one’s mine.”

In the corner of her eye, she spots Lucie poking around by a few of the other coffins as if she wants to peek in but is simultaneously repulsed by the idea. 

Hayley sidles up to her. “He keeps your coffin on standby?”

“He likes to be prepared for when his family members inevitably disappoint him. Elijah’s isn’t here—he must’ve stashed him elsewhere.”

Lucie joins them, arms crossed over her chest. They’re close together like some strange sort of team huddle. 

Even in the dark, Hayley looks green. “I feel sick.”

Never prone to coddling, Rebekah says, “Welcome to the family, love. You should’ve run the second you realized Elijah was gone.”

“Yeah, well, the witches have put some sort of hex on me. As long as I’m carrying this baby, I can’t leave New Orleans. If I do, they kill me.”

“Well, knowing Klaus, he’s planning a box for you the second you give birth to whatever’s cooking in your tum. And you,” she turns to the other girl, “You should make yourself scarce the first chance you get. I’m not sure how well you know your history, but witches don’t fare well where my family is involved.”

They’re both watching her anxiously. She avoids their eyes. While Rebekah isn’t without sympathy, it’s best not to get attached. “I’m leaving as soon as I find Elijah. Being daggered in a box for decades sucks, trust me. You both need to get out of here as soon as you can.

“You, witch. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To the attic. You’re going to try a locator spell.” 

Welcome to the Rebekah Mikaelson Home for Wayward Girls, she thinks bitterly as she leads them both back up the stairs. 

#elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x ofc #keepsdeathhiscourt fic #original female character #elijah x ofc #elijah x oc #the originals fic

[elejahmybeloved]

Rebekah's doppelganger

Rebekah Mikaelson x Petrova Doppelgänger

Rebekah watched the doppelgänger twirl on stage and curled her lips in disgust. God she was spitting image of Katerina, and how Bekah had despised that retched wench. She had warned her brothers of her duplicitous nature, but they had dismissed her. Nik had underestimated her cunning, and Elijah had overestimated her feelings for him; and none of them had listened to their sister, as always. Katerina had been cruel to Rebekah, even before knowing about the sacrifice. She was all honeyed words and fluttering eyelashes around her brothers, and cutting barbs when it was just them girls. Now Rebekah didn’t consider herself a particularly nice person, but she wasn’t nearly as cruel as the doppelgänger had been. She had deeply hated her the day she made her cry. No one had made Rebekah cry in over two centuries, but that bitch had, and she couldn’t eve, retaliate because Nik needed her alive. So all she had done was cry herself to sleep like the pathetic human she most decidedly was not. And to add insult to injury, Katerina was the reason Rebekah lost Elijah for a full century. That was literally the worst century of her life. Worse than the 11th century when they all had to grapple with Finn’s suicidal tendencies, worse than the 12th one when Nik killed The Five and spent half of it suffering under the Hunter’s Curse, worse even than the 14th one when Kol had angered a coven of witches enough for them to summon Mikael on them.

First Nik had taken his fury out on Elijah by delivering him to a pack of werewolves. She could never forget Elijah’s screams and hallucinations from all that venom coursing through his veins. Then he had daggered Elijah and spelled his coffin away so Rebekah wouldn’t free him without his permission. Then he had awoken Kol, which had afforded her a decade of reprieve while the two of them partied like there was no tomorrow, though she did resent being excluded from their little boys’ club, again. But then Kol had pulled his disappearing act, as always, the little weasel. One minute he was sharing a drink and a redhead with Nik, the next he was gone in the wind. That was when Nik’s abandonment issues had reared their ugly head. Rebekah couldn’t take a step without her brother shadowing her, snarling at anyone who got too close to her. And while she loved her brother deeply, it had gotten too frustrating too fast. And when her temper had risen, she found herself daggered for a couple years. And they repeated that cycle for almost a century before Kol almost got himself killed in Spain and Nik finally undaggered Elijah so he could help them fight off Mikael and take off with Kol’s body secured in a coffin.

Rebekah glowered at the face responsible for all her sorrows. She looked down at the program and scoffed. The illustration looked nothing like the dancer; it made her look plain, tame, boring. The doppelgänger was something else entirely. She had the same doe eyes as the others, the same thick wavy hair that was struggling to escape the strict bun that contained it, the same tall and dainty silhouette. She had more grace than the others though, jumping from pirouette to pirouette, never missing a beat, twirling a dizzy around the other dancers. She shone so bright even the spotlight looked pale in comparison. By the time the show was over, the entire theatre was standing up to lavish her with applause and flowers.

Rebekah ignored the wave of spectators leaving and slipped backstage instead. Nik had already lost his chance once. If she brought him his second chance, she was sure she could convince him to give up her dagger to her. And all it would take would be to snatch the human doppelgänger and run back to Italy with her. Easy. She sneaked around the makeup stations and changing rooms, looking for a glimpse of her.

“Look girls, we have an admirer,” said a deep sultry voice on her left and Rebekah turned to see dancers part, letting the object of her search come into view.

They were the same height. And this close, Rebekah could count each of her long lashes. She could see the blush on her olive skin, starting on her cheeks and spreading down her long neck. She could smell her sweet jasmine perfume mixed with tangy sweat from a demanding performance transforming into a unique scent that was all hers. She had already freed her hair and it cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face and her heaving glistening cleavage. Her pink lips were pulled in a pouty smirk. Rebekah’s reply got stuck in her throat.

“Have we made you tongue-tied?” she chuckled. Even her raspy laugh was sensual.

Rebekah bit her tongue to keep herself from acquiescing. She was 700 years old for god’s sake, she didn’t get flustered anymore. She forcefully pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin.

“What’s your name?” she asked her in her most imperious tone.

“Nastya,” she answered and it irritated Rebekah to no end how everything she said held a slightly amused tone, as if the entire world were a joke only she knew about. “What’s yours?”

“Bekah.”

“Well, Bekah,” the way she wrapped her mouth around her name should be forbidden, “you’ve come just in time.”

“In time for what?”

“We have this tradition…”

“– calling it a tradition doesn’t make it fancy –“ another dancer interrupted.

“– we do it every day, that makes it a tradition –“

“– it makes it alcoholism –“

“– will you let me speak? God!”

Rebekah watched the exchange with a deep fascination, the way irritation bled into her tone and made her sound younger, the way she rolled her eyes at her friend before turning back to her, the way she tried to make her voice breathier when she addressed the vampire. Rebekah thought herself the only one affected; she could sigh from relief seeing it wasn’t the case

“Anyway, there’s this ladies club we go to after our performance. The owner always has the best table put aside for us, and the champagne is to die for.”

“For god's sake, Anastasya, be honest! The champagne tastes like piss but it does the job,” her friend cut her off again and the other dancers’ laugh echoed around them.

“Do you always lie so much?” Rebekah scoffed.

“Only when I want to impress pretty girls,” Nastya teased back despite the blush spreading from her chest to her neck. “Is it working?”

“Not in the slightest,” Rebekah replied haughtily.

Her answer was quickly proven wrong though when they spent the next three days joined at the hips, then at the lips, then at the hips and lips. Nastya’s fellow dancers had to literally drag her out of bed for their next performance.

Pretty soon, Rebekah found herself travelling with the ballerinas from city to city. She spent her days touring the towns and sceneries with Nastya. She spent her evenings admiring her lover entrance everyone with her stage presence. She spent her nights showing her exactly just how much of an effect she had on her.

When one of her spies brought her news of Nik’s and Elijah’s visit, she was grateful for her centuries old paranoia. Rebekah stormed Nastya’s changing room and knocked the comb from her hands.

“I need you listen to me very carefully,” she put her hands around her face and bored her eyes into hers, “I need you to pack as light a bag as you can, and get out of this town as fast as you can.”

“What?” Nastya laughed and gently removed Bekah’s hands. “Sweetheart, I have to dance for my supper.”

“I’ll give you all the money you need but you need to leave.”

Nastya got up and steeled her face. “If I wanted to be a kept woman, I would have accepted any of those fools’ propositions over the years. I enjoy your company Bekah, but do not make me choose between dancing and you.”

“That’s not what I… ugh,” Rebekah pulled her hair at the roots. “You are in grave danger. I am not exaggerating when I say that your mortal enemy will be in attendance tonight and you cannot let him get even a glimpse of you.”

Nastya’s jaw hung open. “My mortal enemy?” she scoffed. “Do you even hear yourself? I’m not some tragic heroine in a story, for god’s sake. My life is utterly boring and the biggest antagonist in my story is the humidity that destroys my coiffures.”

“I am dead serious.”

Hesitation washed over Nastya’s face. “You truly believe that, don’t you?” Her eyes roamed Rebekah’s face and whatever she saw made her pale. She sat back down and braced her head on her hands. “Oh my god, what is wrong with me? The first woman I fall in love with, and she’s completely crazy?”

Rebekah froze. She listened to Nastya’s heartbeat, but it didn’t betray any lie on her part. She approached her slowly, and crouched in front of her. She slowly pried her hands from her face and looked her in the eyes.

“I love you, more than I ever thought I could love anyone in my life.” More than my own freedom, she thought, you have no idea what this conversation could cost me. “I am not trying to destroy your life; I am trying to save it.” She took a fortifying breath. “I hope what you’re about to see won’t change your feelings for me.” Rebekah closed her eyes and let her fangs fall down. When she opened them, she knew there would be red irises surrounded by black and purple veins. She expected fear, even disgust. She didn’t expect Nastya’s fingers to reach for her fangs and trace them reverently. Her thumb snagged on one, and a drop of blood bubbled on the skin. Rebekah’s eyes were transfixed on the perfect pearl of red. She guided it to her tongue, and her eyes closed at the contact. A low moan escapes her. When she opened her eyes again, Nastya’s were just as heavy lidded as hers felt. She swirled her tongue around the finger one last time, and Nastya’s breath hitched.

Rebekah reached a hand and cupped her face. “There are things in this world I can’t explain, not right now, not in this short time. But I want to the chance to do that. And for that, you need to leave. Go East, and then South, to Khabarovsk Village. Look for Lubov, she’s a witch I trust. Tell her I sent you and I need her to cloak you. Then keep going east. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.  Hide your face. I will find you.”

“A witch, wait a minute…” Nastya’s eyes fluttered, her hand that was still trapped in Rebekah’s shaking.

“I wish I could break this to you softer, my love, I truly do. But time is not on our side. You need to leave and follow my instructions to the letter. I will do everything to protect you on my side.”

“I don’t understand. Why won’t you come with me?”

Bekah shook her head. “They know I’m here. If I disappear they’ll come looking for us, and they’ll find you and I can’t let that happen. You go. I’ll stay here and lose them. And once it’s safe, I will find you.” She repeats it like a mantra, a prayer to any existing deity that might be listening.

“Is that a promise?” Nastya grabbed Bekah’s wrist.

“It’s a vow.” She sealed with a searing kiss. She pushed her away before either of them was ready to break it but time was of the essence.

While Nastya made her escape, Rebekah compelled everyone who had ever seen her face to forget it. She couldn’t bring herself to make them forget her existence, but she could make them forget just what her face looked like exactly. She then compelled them to believe she had run off with some random officer. Even the hypothetical idea made her blood boil with jealousy. Then came the hardest part. She chose one of the dancers, Irina, who had similar build and colouring to her Nastya, and compelled her to believe she had been the one having a months long affair with Bekah. She then compelled the others to corroborate her story.

Once she was done, she joined her brothers for dinner. Elijah was in a good mood, he always liked Russia. Niklaus was on edge. He didn’t like being separated from her for too long. In fact, the three months she just spent away from her siblings were a record. Sometimes, she resented Kol for his ability to disappear for decades on end without anyone caring. She knew he resented her for holding so much of Nik’s love, but he had no idea how suffocating that could be. After dinner, they went to her usual seat to watch the ballet, as Nik already knew she did from his own spies.

Rebekah only relaxed when the show started and Nastya’s understudy showed up on stage. On her right, Elijah was just as enraptured as she had been the first time. On her left, Nik got bored after five minutes. He held the program in his hands and casually thumbed through it.

“That’s not Anastasiya, is it?”

Rebekah froze. “What?”

He showed her the second page of the program where an illustration of Nastya ate up most of the space, he needlessly pointed at the face she knew far too well. “Anastasiya, isn’t she supposed to be the big star? This dancer looks nothing like her.” Indeed the short blonde understudy looked nothing like devastating brunette the illustration depicted.

Elijah reached over Rebekah to look at it and hummed. “No, she does not, does she? I must say, that is a disappointment. I had heard so much about the lovely Anastasiya. Her replacement leaves much to be desired.”

“Bekah, you’ve been shacking up with the troop,” Nik teased. “You must have all the scoops. Tell us every sordid detail,” he nudged her shoulder with his. “Did her understudy break her leg in a bid to win the spotlight?”

“It’s all very boring I’m afraid,” Rebekah drawled, “yet another dancer running away with a lowly officer. I heard there might be a pregnancy involved, though that could just be a nasty rumour. Either way, it’s a shame. She could have become something.”

“And what about your dancer?” asked Nik, his program forgotten. “What was her name again?”

“Irina,” she ground out. “What of her?”

“I’m just curious. Should I worry about you turning her without my permission? You do get attached so easily.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah admonished, “let our sister be happy.”

“Are you happy, sister dear?”

Rebekah looked at him and schooled her face. The more enthusiasm Nik could see, the more ammunition he had to use against her.

“I’m having fun, Nik,” she drawled. “Is that allowed in your book?”

He flashed his dimples at her.

“Just don’t have too much fun. I’d rather not have to kill an entire troop of dancers. Or, better yet, come home with us, where I can keep a better eye on you.”

“I’m not bored yet,” she shrugged. “When I am, trust I’ll be on the first ride out of here.”

Nik huffed in displeasure but he didn’t argue. He picked up the program again.

“Elijah,” he called, ignoring the displeased tsks of the other spectators. “Does she remind you of anyone?” he thrust the program over Rebekah’s lap and into Elijah’s hands.

Elijah examined Nastya’s face, and Rebekah held her breath. She always thought that illustration didn’t do her justice, but she couldn’t underestimate her brothers’ obsession with the doppelgänger’s face.

“Perhaps around the eyes,” he mused.

Nik reached over Rebekah to snatch the program back and she finally lost her temper and slapped his arm away.

“Will you stop embarrassing me and let me enjoy the show?” she hissed.

He ignored her and examined the illustration again.

“Could she be..?”

“No,” Elijah answered, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I thought so too at first, those eyes are uncanny. But no, she isn’t. I would recognize her anywhere.”

“Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?” Nik sneered and Elijah pursed his lips.

Rebekah exhaled discreetly and focused back on the unfortunate understudy. She really was lacklustre.

Her brothers stayed in town for a full month, trying to coax her into joining them in Italy. She managed to convince them to give her a few weeks to say goodbye.

As soon as they left, she went in search of Nastya. She travelled East, and then South. She looked for her everywhere. Her witch contact had disappeared. She hired witches to put a location spell on both the witch and Nastya, to no avail. She spent six months looking for her. It was already double the time they spent together and she couldn’t even find a trace of her. She curved her body into a ball on her bed and cried every tear in her body. Then she just stayed there. She fell into a deep depression that left her stuck in bed for weeks that soon bled into months. She couldn’t eat, or sleep. She didn’t even feed. By the time her brothers found her, she had started desiccating. Nik sighed as he crouched to look at her and gently brushed her dirty hair away from her gaunt face.

“What is it this time?” he asked, his voice soft.

“She left me,” she croaked. Her words scratched at her dehydrated vocal cords like sandpaper.

“I will kill her and everyone she’s ever met,” Nik promised. “Tell me who she is.”

She couldn’t talk anymore, her throat was paralyzed. Nik bit into his wrist and brought it up to her mouth but she ignored him. His blood ran down her chin and stained the already dirty sheets. Not even the smell of it made her react. Her survival instincts were gone. Nik stormed out, instructing Elijah to stay by her side. He came back two days later with tales of how he flayed Irina open and slaughtered the entire dancing troop. Rebekah didn’t react. She couldn’t find it in her to feel neither guilt nor pity.

She heard Nik and Elijah confer with each other in hushed tones. Nik sounded scared, Elijah worried. She didn’t care about either. Elijah tried to coax her into a sitting position, to no avail. Nik brought her soup mixed with warm blood; she let it get cold on the nightstand. They spent days trying to bring her back to life. Elijah with his kind words and gentle touches, Nik with his taunts and temptations, none of them succeeded. If she could feel anything, she might have felt pity for them, or sorrow for herself, or anger at Nastya, or guilt for the lives fallen on her behalf, or even shame for her weakness. She felt nothing. They conferred again and this time, they sounded like they agreed.

Elijah held her face and kissed her forehead. “I am sorry, Rebekah,” he whispered, “I wish I could spare you this pain.”

Nik held the dagger to her chest. For the first time, he looked apologetic while he did. “You’ve left me no choice, sister. It’s for your own good.” He pushed the dagger and she finally went to sleep.

They woke her again weeks later, after they had finished making arrangements for their move to New Orleans. The weather, the food, and the music there were so different from Russia it seemed to bring her back to life. She let the southern sun warm her frozen heart and the Mississippi drown out thoughts of Nastya. And months later, she even found herself wishing her the best, wherever she was. She hoped she’d never see her again, for both of their sakes.

#rebekah mikaelson x original female character #rebekah mikaelson x petrova doppelganger #rebekah mikaelson x original petrova doppelganger #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the originals fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson fanfiction #bisexual rebekah mikaelson #queer rebekah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson x oc #rebekah mikaelson x female oc #my writing

[wholoveseggs]

Warmth

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

This is just a smutty little thing about being in an arraigned marriage to a certain original vampire. This is the first thing I've ever posted so please be nice :)

{Part Two} {Part Three} thanks for all the love ❤️ If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

5k words - No warnings other than smut and mentions of a shitty family.

It's your wedding day, but it feels more like being sold off than a celebration. You're about to marry into the most powerful family in history, but it's not by choice—it's all politics. All you can do is hope that the guy waiting for you at the altar is decent and that somehow, you'll survive whatever comes after "I do."

Part One

You delicately picked at your freshly-manicured nails, your heart pounding in your chest as his sister's circled you, their hands adjusting your dress, hair, and veil.

"Is he a good man?" you whispered nervously, feeling one of them gently pull on your dress, making the low cut of the back align perfectly with your body.

Rebekah gave you a kind smile, applying a touch more blush to your cheeks with a makeup brush. "Yes, dear. He's a good man," she replied.

"He's the best of us, you have nothing to fear," Freya chimed in, taking your hand in a reassuring gesture.

You let out a long sigh as they placed the veil over your head, their satisfied smiles providing some comfort. "You look perfect," Rebekah said, offering a sweet smile. "Welcome to the family."

Walking down the aisle felt like a surreal dream, your heart racing, and time behaving strangely, as if you'd indulged in a bit too much wine. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as you laid eyes on the groom. At least he's handsome, you thought. But fear still gripped your heart; marrying a vampire was one thing, but becoming a part of the family of the most deadly vampires was a whole new level.

Standing across from him, you barely registered the officiant's words as they initiated the ceremony. Up close, he was even more striking with warm brown eyes, a sharp jawline, and a physique that complemented his looks. He gazed down at you with a gentle smile, though there was a hint of sadness in his dark eyes, a reminder that he hadn't desired this union any more than you did.

The vows were recited, their words escaping your consciousness as you mechanically repeated them. He lifted your veil and with a chaste peck on your lips, the marriage was sealed.

At the reception, your new husband mingled with the guests, sealing packs and making deals, laying bare the true intention behind your marriage. You observed his brother taking the stage, silencing the band.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming. I have a special gift for the bride and groom. Since they didn't really have a honeymoon planned, I took it upon myself to help them out. Outside, they'll find a car ready to take them on the adventure of a lifetime," Klaus announced, giving his brother a wicked smile, clapping him on the back in a way that seemed almost malicious. "To the bride and groom!" he cheered, raising his glass in your direction.

All eyes were on you as your husband led you to the car. You didn't recognize a single face in the crowd, but you hadn't expected to. The people who had sold you had gotten what they wanted, and this arrangement was a win-win for them.

You settled into the back seat of the car, the leather sticking to your bare back. You adjusted your white silk dress nervously, and he sat down beside you, his jaw and fists clenched, the tension palpable. You drove in silence for a while, stealing glances at your new husband, his expression stern and unreadable.

Wanting to break the silence, you considered a joke or maybe a compliment about his looks, but instead opted for the safest option. "Hi, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you," you said quietly, extending your hand.

He chuckled slightly, and you appreciated his handsome smile as he took your hand, giving it a gentle shake. "Hello, I'm Elijah," he replied.

You exchanged smiles, and the tension in the car began to dissipate. The street lights reflected in his eyes as the car headed toward an unknown destination.

"Do you know where we are going?" you asked.

"The airport," he responded, gazing out the window with a hint of bitterness.

"Not a fan of flying?" you inquired, trying to discern Elijah's emotions.

"No, it's not that," he sighed softly and placed his hand on yours. "I'm sorry this happened to you. When I began negotiating an alliance with your faction, I didn't know they would require a marriage, I agreed to it for peace." he explained.

You shrugged, attempting to suppress the emotions swirling within you. "They've wanted to get rid of me for a while," you confessed.

Before he could inquire further, you arrived at the airport. A private plane awaited you, and you crossed the windy tarmac in your wedding dress, Elijah shielding you from the chill. You hoped someone had remembered to pack you a change of clothes.

Seated in the plane, the gentle hum of the engines made you instantly drowsy. You reached for a glass of champagne, quickly downing it before pouring another.

Elijah took a seat beside you, selecting a book from a pile on the table. He watched you consume your second glass, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Are you alright?" he inquired.

"No," you admitted, shifting in your seat and closing your eyes.

"Don't like flying?" he teased.

"Hilarious," you replied sarcastically, before turning in your seat, surrendering to sleep before the plane had even taken off.

You awoke to the sound of the arrival announcement. You noticed a warm blanket on you and realized your head was resting on Elijah's shoulder. He smelled faintly of alcohol and nice cologne, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the sudden intimacy with a stranger, although you supposed he wasn't one anymore.

"Apparently, we're in Canada," he informed you in a soft tone, offering a gentle smile.

"What?" you replied, lifting your head from his shoulder and peering out the window to see nothing but white.

"I suppose my brother's adventure for us involves some cold," he remarked.

The plane touched down, and the pilot's announcement revealed a bone-chilling temperature of -20°C. Panic set in as you realized your thin dress offered no defense against the frigid cold.

"I don't suppose you happen to have a winter coat?" you asked, your tone flat with a hint of desperation.

Elijah calmly removed his suit jacket and handed it to you, offering a warm smile. As he stood in just his dress shirt, concern flashed in your eyes. "It's alright; vampires don't get cold," he reassured you. "Besides, I'll get us to the car quickly.”

He was being humble when he said 'quickly.' He wrapped his arms around you, and in a literal instant, you found yourselves in the warmth of the waiting car, with Elijah in the driver's seat, studying his phone with a furrowed brow.

"It seems our destination is a cottage up a mountain," he said, clearly displeased as he reviewed the itinerary on his phone.

"Not a fan of snow?" you chuckled.

"I'm not a fan of my brother playing games," he replied as he pulled out of the airport.

The drive up the mountain was a strange mix of anticipation and discomfort. The grandeur of nature unfolding around you offered a stark contrast to the peculiar circumstances that had brought you together. You gazed out of the car window, lost in your thoughts.

After a while, it was Elijah who dared to break the silence, his voice carrying a genuine curiosity. "You mentioned your family wanted to get rid of you. Why?" he asked, his eyes shifting briefly from the winding road to you.

Your gaze remained focused on the passing landscape, a mixture of mountain vistas and dense forests. "I wouldn't call them family," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your tone. "They weren't my blood, and they certainly didn't treat me as such. They wanted to get rid of me because I was no longer of value."

Elijah furrowed his brow, seeking to understand. "No longer of value?" he inquired, his voice gentle.

With a deep breath, you began to unravel the unfortunate chapter of your life. "With the human faction, marriage pacts are common. After I lost my parents, they took me in, providing for my clothing, food, and education, with the understanding that, in return, I'd remain pure until they could marry me off," you paused, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment, searching for any hint of judgment. "I didn't remain pure," 

He listened attentively, his warm smile putting you at ease. "Well, you will fit in with my family just fine," he said with a sweet smile. "Purity isn't our thing either. You're free from all that now."

You couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at the irony of the situation. "Out of the frying pan…" you mumbled, a sense of resignation in your words. "I know all about your family. I don't think this will end well for me."

The falling snow whipped past the car windows, obscuring any view beyond. You arrived at the cottage, and you sucked in the cold air as Elijah whisked you inside. He disappeared momentarily before returning with your bags. You sat on the sofa, taking in the place. It was more of a chalet than a cottage, and you couldn't help but shiver in the chilly interior. Elijah noticed.

"I'll gather some firewood," he said, heading outside.

You got up and explored the place, finding some whiskey and taking swigs straight from the bottle as you wandered. Your attention was captured by a sizable record collection, and you began to browse. You found a record you liked and started playing it, swaying to the music in an attempt to warm up.

Elijah returned inside, his arms laden with firewood, determined to make your cold sanctuary warm and cozy. His eyes softened as he noticed your shivering form.

"I'll get a fire going," he said, his voice gentle. He quickly set about arranging the logs, expertly lighting them, transforming the room with the comforting glow and crackle of the flames.

Taking your icy hands in his, he remarked, "Your hands are freezing." He brought you closer to the fire, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin. You couldn't help but be captivated by his kindness and the concern in his eyes.

"You need to warm up," he insisted, his voice a soothing melody.

“You are nicer than I was expecting,” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“I know my family's reputation is not great, but you are a part of it now. I want you to know I will always protect you,” he said softly, his words sincere and reassuring.

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for his understanding and genuine care. "I believe you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled you in and held you close, trying to warm you up; you found yourself drawn to him, his charm and sweetness melting your reservations. In that moment, overwhelmed by his kindness, you leaned in and kissed him softly.

When you pulled away, his expression was both surprised and understanding. "You don't have to do that," he said, his tone gentle. "You're not obligated to do anything with me just because of our situation."

His words filled you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. Here was a man, a vampire, who respected your boundaries, a stark contrast to the people who had controlled your life before.

Elijah guided you to the soft rug in front of the crackling fire, arranging the blankets around you to ensure you stayed warm. The bottle of whiskey sat between you, its amber contents promising warmth from the inside out. You extended the bottle to him, a silent invitation to share in the fleeting comfort of alcohol.

You both drank in companionable silence, the warmth from the fire seeping into your bones, the whiskey adding a pleasant haze to the room. As the evening wore on, conversation flowed more freely, and the barriers between you began to dissolve with every shared story and laugh.

Elijah stood and helped you up, his hand finding its way to your waist, and before you knew it, he was leading you in a slow dance, his movements graceful and confident. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, swaying to the music.

"What is this song?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

"It's called bitter sweet symphony,'' you replied, your eyes meeting his. "It's one of my favorites."

He nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on yours. "I like the strings, the whole thing is very melancholic," he observed.

You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his shoulder. "I find it beautiful. It's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, don't you think? Even in the face of adversity, we keep going."

He regarded you with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. "Something you have a lot of experience in, I gather," he said, his tone appreciative.

"I wouldn't say I'm resilient," you responded modestly, the music guiding your movements. "More like adaptable. Life throws curveballs, and you either adapt or get swept away."

He pulled you closer, the dance now a slow, intimate sway. "Indeed, life has a way of testing us. But it also brings unexpected joys."

The dance continued, a silent conversation unfolding between you, transcending words. As the music wove its spell, you felt a vulnerability and connection with Elijah that surpassed the constraints of your forced union. The walls you had built around yourself began to crumble, and you found solace in the unexpected warmth of his embrace.

A soft smile played on your lips. “You're not the monster they make you out to be," you replied, your words carrying a newfound trust.

Feeling an unspoken longing between you, you reached out, your fingers tracing a delicate path along his jawline, your touch conveying what words couldn't express. His eyes, dark and intense, met yours with understanding, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss that ignited a spark, setting the room ablaze with desire.

His response to your kiss was a slow, seductive smile that went straight to your core. He gently slid a hand around the back of your neck, his fingers winding in your hair. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You nodded, your own desire mirrored in your eyes. "Yes," you whispered, placing your hands on his chest.

With a sudden surge of intensity, he lifted you effortlessly, his arms strong and secure as he carried you to the nearby sofa. The room seemed to come alive, dancing with shifting shadows painted by the flickering firelight. He gently set you down on the plush sofa, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You are truly exquisite," he murmured softly, as he carefully peeled your wedding dress away, letting it cascade onto the floor like a waterfall of silk and lace.

"I-I think you're beautiful too," you stammered, your words catching in your throat, feeling the chill creep back in after losing the warmth of your dress. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly, and began to unbutton his shirt.

His smile remained warm and affectionate as he took your hands, pressing a gentle kiss upon them. With a swift motion, he shed his shirt, and pressed his skin to yours in a tender embrace, an effort to restore the warmth that had been lost. He shifted you so you lay side by side, pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hip, the other hand gently cupping your neck as he kissed you softly.

You lingered there for a while as his hands explored the curves of your body. Your own hands ventured, touching his toned chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath your fingertips.

His lips trailed soft, lingering kisses down your neck, each one a tender declaration of affection. His gentle gestures made you blush, the heat of your cheeks contrasting with the cool air in the room. You couldn't help but giggle from the sheer sweetness of his actions.

His hand glided down between you, his fingertips tracing the sensitive skin just above the edge of your white lace panties. A soft moan escaped your lips, a rush of heat pooling between your legs as his hand ventured beneath the fabric. He began to slowly circle your clit, the hand that rested on your neck pushed your head forward, his lips capturing yours in another gentle kiss.

His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, their casual dips down to your opening making you moan softly into his mouth. The sensation was exquisite, driving you closer to climax with each subtle movement.

“You make such lovely sounds,” he hummed against your lips, then he dipped a finger inside you.

You let out a low, desperate whine, your hips instinctively rocking into his hand. You closed your eyes and swore under your breath, your voice barely audible, your fingers clutching at his neck as he continued to work his magic with his skillful hand.

He smiled, clearly savoring the way you were unraveling under his touch. He slowly pulled his hand away, leaving you achingly empty for a moment before repositioning you. Suddenly, you found yourself underneath him, your back pressed into the softness of the sofa, desire reflected in his eyes.

He began trailing soft kisses and teasing bites down your body, each touch sending electric pulses of need through you.

With slow, deliberate movements, he removed your panties, the fabric sliding off with a tantalizing intimacy that sent your heart racing. He pushed your thighs up, his fingers briefly teasing your clit before he leaned in, his hot breath against your skin.

Then, with an agonizing slowness that made your breath catch, he lowered his head, his tongue finding its way to your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. The world blurred into a haze of sensation, his expertise evident in every flick and swirl, each touch bringing you closer to your peak.

You ran a trembling hand through his hair, your fingers gripping the strands as you surrendered to his tongue. Your hips moved in a desperate rhythm with his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite sensation he was providing.

His hands pressed into your thighs with firm, possessive intent, holding you in place, stilling your movements. With each flick of his tongue, each press of his lips, you felt the tension rising within you, like a coiled spring ready to release.

You couldn't hold back any longer, and your body convulsed as the waves of pleasure overtook you. It was a moment of pure bliss, your cries echoing in the room, as your fingers tangled in his hair. He didn't falter in his attentions, riding you through the aftershocks of your climax.

Your body was still pulsating with the aftermath of the first orgasm, yet he skillfully coaxed another wave of pleasure from within you. He pushed two fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot, and your moans grew louder, filling the room.

"My pretty little wife," he murmured in a seductive whisper. The rhythm of his fingers and his tongue on your overly-sensitive clit created a delicious combination.

You squeezed your eyes shut, completely overtaken by the sensations, your body responding eagerly to his skilled touch. The second orgasm began to build, a powerful surge of pleasure that threatened to consume you entirely. His deep hum against you made you squirm, your legs shaking as you moaned.

His hand shifted from your thigh, splaying across your lower stomach with just the right amount of pressure to hold you down, halting your movements completely. His control heightened the intensity of the moment, trapping you in a delicious blend of pleasure and surrender.

You came apart a second time on his tongue, your body writhing with pleasure as you looked down at his handsome face, his lips glistening with your wetness.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your voice barely audible, your eyes locking onto his. He made his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. Cupping his face with your hands, you traced the lines of his jaw affectionately as your lips moved in a heated dance, the taste of your shared desire lingering between you.

You pulled off your bra, the cool air of the room contrasting with the heat that radiated between you. His eyes were glued to your every move, filled with desire as you exposed yourself to him. His gaze slowly traced over the curves of your body with a look of admiration and hunger.

He positioned your legs around his hips, and you could feel his cock through the fabric of his pants. You reached down to unzip him, but he caught your wrists with a swift yet gentle motion, pinning them above your head with a possessive grip, his eyes locking onto yours in a dark, intense gaze.

“Stay just like this,” he said firmly. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling back, his eyes never leaving yours as he removed his pants, the room filled with a charged anticipation that crackled in the air between you.

He leaned in closer, his handsome form fully on display, the intensity in his eyes growing as he gazed down at you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the anticipation building between you. His cock brushed against your clit, a tantalizing tease that made you let out a soft, desperate moan.

Unable to resist the urge to touch him, you lowered your hands to feel him. He let out a quiet "tsk" and shook his head gently, guiding your hands back above your head. His lips curved into a soft smile, as he held you in place, his dominance making your heart race.

His eyes bore into yours with a gentle intensity as placed a pillow under your hips and positioned himself. With a deliberate yet tender motion, he guided himself slowly inside you, filling you inch by inch. A gasp escaped your lips as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and rocking his hips gently. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, his pelvis brushing against your clit with every stroke, creating a delicious friction that made your toes curl.

He let go of your wrists and his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, and your breaths became shallow as you clung to his arms, your nails digging into his skin.

He maintained his agonizingly slow pace, a rhythm that kept you on the precipice of release. You could feel his eyes on you, studying your reactions before your eyes fluttered closed and your brows arched in pleasure. His hot breath danced on your skin as he whispered soft encouraging words, his lips trailing up your neck, nibbling your ear. Each touch, each whisper, pushed you closer to the edge, intensifying the pleasure that pulsed through every fiber of your being.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice a seductive melody that made your breath catch in your throat.

"I... I want," you stammered, your voice shaky with desire, your hands clutching at his chest.

"What?" he teased, slowing his pace even more, pulling all the way out before plunging back in, savoring the exquisite torture he was subjecting you to. "You have to tell me," he insisted, his words laced with a playful yet commanding tone.

"More, please," you begged. He took your hands from his chest and pinned your wrists above your head again, your body aching for more of his touch.

"Like this?" he asked, his thrusts becoming deeper and rougher, each one hitting your sweet spot with a precision that made you gasp in pleasure.

"Y-yes, yes, yes," you whimpered, your back arching involuntarily, your legs trembling beneath him as the pleasure intensified, pushing you closer to the edge of climax.

He leaned back, and his eyes locked onto yours, a warm smile forming on his face as he enjoyed the flush of your cheeks in response to his actions. With a gentle touch, he ran his thumb over your clit, feeling the immediate response of your body, tightening around him in pleasure. A low hum of approval escaped his lips as he continued to graze your clit, attuning himself to your body's responses.

The room was filled with the intoxicating sounds of your bodies colliding, mingled with soft moans and the crackling of the fire. Elijah's gaze darkened as the pace of his thrusts gradually increased, the desire between you igniting the air. He released your pinned wrists, his hands guiding your thighs up around your waist, spreading them wide, pushing his cock even deeper.

His thrusts grew more urgent, a relentless rhythm that was hard and passionate. Your body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure reaching its peak as you came completely undone, your head falling back, and your back arching as you moaned his name.

"That's it, beautiful wife," he said softly, his voice strained as his own peak approached.

His own climax surged through him, a wave of heat and pleasure washing over you both. He let out a low groan as his body relaxed. Leaning forward, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his mouth melding with yours in a heated exchange. The room seemed to pulse with the aftermath of your shared pleasure, the fire casting a warm, golden glow over your entwined bodies.

"You are perfect," he whispered against your lips, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a sitting position in his lap. You were still breathless, placing your hands on his chest as you looked into his dark eyes. 

"This is not how I pictured this night going," you said softly, a contented smile playing on your lips. 

"How did you picture it?" He asked gently, his fingers tracing down your spine as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his chest as you gathered the courage to speak your truth. "I thought you might kill me," you confessed, your voice barely audible, carrying the weight of your fears. "I have this fear of vampires. They killed my parents, and I've been haunted by that memory ever since."

Elijah's eyes softened with understanding, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I am truly sorry for the pain you've endured," he said, his voice laced with genuine empathy. "You're incredibly brave for facing your fears and allowing yourself to trust me."

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as you continued. "My adoptive parents married me off to you as punishment, not expecting any kindness from you. But you've shown me a side of vampires I never knew existed. I didn't expect this... warmth, this understanding."

Elijah's hand cupped your face with a gentle reassurance. "I take my vows seriously," he said, his voice unwavering. "You are my wife now, and I will protect and care for you always."

In that moment, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes filled you with hope, erasing some of the lingering pain and fear. 

With a single, elegant motion, he effortlessly lifted you into his arms, holding you close as he guided both of you into the shower. The hot water cascaded over you, cleansing your bodies of the remnants of passion and desire. He gently pressed you against the cool, slick tile, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His hands asserted a possessive grip on your waist, drawing your body in close to his.

You pulled back, your breath momentarily catching in your throat as his affectionate touch lingered. The hot water continued to flow over your relaxed bodies. "You know," you confessed, "I think I might actually really like you."

He grinned bashfully, his eyes filled with adoration, and leaned in to kiss you again. You could feel his cock harden against your leg, his desire reignited by your proximity.

You pushed lightly on his chest, moving both of you around so his back was against the tile, the warm water streaming down from above his head. You pressed your lips against his neck, then trailed kisses down his shoulder and chest.

Your hands glided over his damp skin, tracing the contours of his muscles as you moved downward, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His breath hitched when you reached his abdomen, and you glanced up, locking eyes with him before continuing your descent.

You took his cock in your hand, feeling the weight and heat in your palm. His sharp intake of breath spurred you on, and you pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive tip before trailing your tongue along his length, savoring the salty taste of his desire. His hand threaded through your hair, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

You closed your lips around him, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, eliciting a low groan from deep within his throat. The water cascading around both of you seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment, amplifying every sensation. His fingers tugged on your hair, his touch both commanding and gentle, guiding your pace.

His hips moved in response, a silent plea for more, and you obliged, taking him deeper. His groans filled the steamy air, your lips and tongue working in harmony to bring him to the brink, his breaths turning shallow and erratic. A satisfied smile played on your lips as you reveled in the power of making a man like him come undone.

You gazed up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, giving him your most innocent expression as you intensified your movements. You pushed your head further down, burying your face into his pelvis, and with a deep groan, he found release down your throat.

Elijah leaned against the tiled shower wall, catching his breath, a satiated smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with admiration. You, on the other hand, wore a confident smirk, the satisfaction of pleasuring him evident in your eyes. 

Elijah placed a gentle kiss on your lips as you stood together under the warm cascade of water, both of you still savoring the shared moment of passion. He then guided you out of the shower, wrapping a large, fluffy towel around your shoulders before drying himself off.

As you both made your way to the bedroom, the soft hum of the bathroom fan in the background, he looked at you with affection. "You're quite extraordinary," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.

"Why? Was that your first blowjob?" You teased, giving him a sweet smile. 

He let out a little chuckle, his laughter filled with warmth. He pulled the blankets back on the bed and you both got underneath them. You gladly snuggled up next to him, laying your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

{Part Two} {Part Three}

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson smut #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #freya mikaelson #Elijah is just so so fine #tvd #elijahmikaelson #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson x you #fanfiction #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x reader smut #smut #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #fanfic #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #vampire diaries

[honeybear-yammy]

Shy

Warnings: cursing, smut, fluffy, Y/N losing her virginity, soft sex

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Female Human Reader

Summary: In which Y/N and Elijah had been dating for a year now and she finally feels ready to have her first time with Elijah.

Type: smut & fluff

Character: Elijah Mikaelson (played by Daniel Gillies)

Show: The Originals

© Honeybear-Yammy, please do not steal, translate, copy, or transfer my work.

You were hanging out with your boyfriend Elijah. The two of you were making out, passionately making out. You put your hands through his hair and gentle tugged. He pulled you onto his lap to straddle him.

As the two of you were making out, Elijah began to mess with the bottom of your shirt, about to pull it up but you stopped him.

"Is something wrong baby?" He asked. "I thought you said you were ready for this yesterday, it's ok if you changed your mind though." He said.

"I- no I want to have sex with you it's just..." You paused.

"What is it love?" Elijah asked. "You know you can tell me anything right?" He said.

"I know.." You sighed. "It's just that..." You took a long pause before you told him. "I'm still a virgin." You said. He looked at you then kissed your forehead.

"That's ok baby, honestly, it's a turn on that I would be able to take your virginity, that's if you want me to that is." He said.

"No.. I want you to. I trust you." You said.

"Okay." Elijah said with a warm smile. "Just remember, at any point if you want to stop, let me know and we can stop everything." He said. You nodded. "Use your words baby, please." He said.

"Okay.. I understand." You said. Elijah kissed you again and gently took you off his lap to lay you down on the bed. He began to take your top off, then your bra. He studied your chest for a moment before leaning down to suck on your breasts.

His tongue swirled around your now hardened nipples making you whimper. You put your hands through his hair and gently tugged. Elijah came back up and kissed your gently. He then started to pull your skirt off then your panties.

You helped him pull off his top then his jeans and boxers. You were both naked now. You saw his size and your eyes widened. 

"Are you ok love?" Elijah asked. 

"I- that is not going to fit." You said, your eyes still wide. He couldn't help but chuckle a little at your reaction.

"Love it's going to be okay. If you don't want to do this though, that is alright." He said. 

"No no.. I want to, I trust you." You said.

 He nodded and kissed your forehead. He pulled a condom out of his nightstand and slid it on his dick. Elijah then aligned himself with your entrance and he was about to thrust into you.

"Wait!" You said putting your hand on his chest.

"What's wrong baby?" He asked.

"Just... please be gentle." You said.

"I will be gentle. I promise." Elijah said and kissed your head. He aligned his cock with your entrance again then gently pushed into you. You gasped and whimpered a little. Tears welled up in your eyes. Elijah kissed your forehead again and gave you some time to adjust.

He began to gently thrust in and out of you at a slow pace. You held onto his shoulders. There was still some tears in your eyes and you could still feel some pain but it slowly kept getting better.

After a few minutes of Elijah's slow pace, the pain was gone and you you started to feel the pleasure. You moaned out and held onto his shoulder tighter.

"Fuck.. please go faster Elijah!" You moaned out. He obeyed your wishes and thrusted into you faster. Even though he was going faster, he was still gentle with you. He leaned down and started kissing your neck, surly leaving marks.

You put a hand through his hair and moaned out louder. Your felt something building in your stomach. You could tell you were close to your climax. You dug your nails into his back a little and Elijah groaned out.

"Fuck I'm so fucking close!" You moaned out.

"I'm close too baby!" Elijah groaned. You reached down and began to rub your clit as he thrusted into you, this thrusts starting to get sloppy. You threw your head back and arched your back slightly.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum!" You yelled out.

"Come on, cum for me baby." He said. Right with that, your legs began to tremble and you saw stars as you came hard on his cock. Moments later he came too. He pulled out of you and pulled the condom off his cock throwing it in the trash.

You laid there catching your breath. Elijah laid beside you and you rested your head on his chest. You felt him stroke your hair softly making you smile.

"I love you Elijah.." You said with a smile.

"I love you too y/n." He smiled. Your eyes fluttered shut and you fell asleep in Elijah's arms.

Author's Note: tysm for reading!

#tvdu #to #the originals #elijah mikaelson #e. mikaelson #elijahmikaelson #elijah #mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x fem!reader #elijah mikaelson x f!reader #elijah mikaelson x human reader #elijah mikaelson x female human reader #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x plus size reader #smut #tvdu smut #to smut #the originals smut #elijah smut #elijah mikaelson smut #fluff #tvdu fluff #to fluff #the originals fluff #elijah fluff #elijah mikaelson fluff

[ladymarvel27]

Niklaus: There must be at least one thing you like about me? Y/N: Yeah. Niklaus: And what is that? Y/N: Your elder brother.

#elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson the originals #elijah mikaelson incorrect quotes #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson

[maidmerrymint]

If you're looking for a long Kol Mikaelson fic you should read this.

Kol Mikaelson x Poc Oc

#kol mikaelson fanfiction #the vampire diaries #original female character #poc oc #siphoner #kol x oc #wattpad #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #caroline forbes #stefan salvatore #kol mikaelson x poc oc #kol x siphoner oc #klaus mikaelson x platonic oc

[ex-coolgirl]

First chapter up for 2024 😜 Posted on both wattpad and ao3!

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #the originals #tvdu #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #original female character #hope mikaelson #kol mikaelson #hayley marshall #tvd klaus #witches #werewolves #witch x vampire #vampires #supernatural #witchcraft #marcel gerard #hybrid #wattpad #ao3 #the vampire diaries #fanfic #fanfiction #niklaus mikaelson #a new start

[seasons-of-obsessions]

Guysss I’m starting my first fanfic! Read here

Summary under the cut~

Summary:

   Adeline Santos thought she was dreaming when she woke up with the thought 'I am Elena Gilbert' and like anyone would, continued with the dream while waiting for it to end. Except the dream hours start to feel like real, waking hours and she's starting to think maybe it's not really a dream. Can Adeline figure out how to survive in the role of a character destined for tragedy or will she find a way to change their futures?

Any and all advice is appreciated! I’m clueless about this stuff. Also how to do cool aesthetic posts on tumblr that I’ve seen

#Elijah Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s) #Elijah Mikaelson x Original Female Character(s) #elijah mikaelson x oc #my fanfic #my first fanfic #do not copy to another site #fix it fic #tvd fanfic #the vampire diaries fanfic