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voidpetrova · 9 months

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partners in crime — klaus mikaelson x reader

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content warnings and genre: none in particular, requested one-shot — comfort

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you were as twisted as him, and he adored you for it

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in the heart of new orleans, where darkness and mystique intertwined, an unlikely partnership thrived. klaus mikaelson, the infamous hybrid vampire, had always been a force to be reckoned with. ruthless and cunning, he was known throughout the supernatural world for his audacious schemes and thirst for power.yet, even the most formidable of creatures couldn't resist the allure of a dangerous accomplice, and in this case, that partner was you.

you were no ordinary vampire. you were a heretic, a rare breed born from the unholy union of vampire and witch, wielding both the immortal strength of a vampire and the potent magic of a witch. the stories of your malevolence echoed through the centuries, leaving behind a trail of destruction and fear. klaus had first crossed paths with you in the dark, clandestine corners of the city. a chance meeting turned into a partnership fueled by a shared desire for chaos. together, you embarked on a campaign of mischief and malevolence, weaving your way through the intricate tapestry of power struggles that defined new orleans.

your alliance didn't merely thrive on bloodlust and destruction; it thrived on strategy and cunning. klaus, with his penchant for manipulation, and you, with your mastery over dark magic, were a formidable duo. you orchestrated elaborate heists, sowed discord among rival supernatural factions, and left behind a trail of baffled adversaries who underestimated the malevolence of your partnership.

one of your most audacious acts was the infiltration of a high-profile society gala, hosted by the most influential witch coven in the city. you and klaus masqueraded as guests, seamlessly blending into the crowd. as the night wore on, you unleashed a torrent of dark magic that sent chandeliers crashing, and illusions that played tricks on the minds of the attendees.

klaus reveled in the chaos you created, watching with a wicked grin as the once-coherent gathering descended into chaos and madness. It was in these moments, as you both reveled in the malevolent beauty of your actions, that he couldn't help but feel an undeniable attraction to your power and your wickedness.

as dawn broke over new orleans, you and klaus vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a city forever altered by your malevolent partnership. the world may have deemed you both as monsters, but in each other's eyes, you were the perfect accomplices, two dark souls united in their thirst for power and their love for the evil they created together.

one time, the night was draped in a velvet darkness, concealing your every move as you and klaus stood in the shadows of the mikaelson mansion. the moon, like a pale witness to your impending malevolence, cast eerie shadows across the cobblestone courtyard. klaus, his cerulean eyes dancing with anticipation, leaned in closer to you. “my dearest (y/n),” he purred, his voice dripping with honeyed menace. “tonight, we shall take another step towards our rightful dominion over this city.”

a devilish grin curved your lips as you responded, your voice laced with the promise of chaos. “i know we will. the witches have grown too comfortable, too complacent. it's time we remind them of our power.”

the plan was simple in its intricacy. you had uncovered a secret, a buried legend from new orleans' supernatural history. an ancient grimoire spoke of a powerful artifact hidden beneath the city, capable of granting unimaginable power to any who possessed it. the witches held the key to this artifact, and tonight, it would be yours.

as the mansion's clock struck midnight, you and klaus moved with preternatural grace, infiltrating the ancestral witch house where the coven held their most precious artifacts. the scent of ancient magic filled the air as you approached a cryptic door, adorned with intricate symbols. with a knowing glance, you murmured an incantation, and the door creaked open, revealing a chamber bathed in an eerie blue glow. there, resting on a pedestal, was the coveted artifact—a mystical amulet, pulsating with power.

klaus's eyes widened as he beheld the object of their desire. “remarkable,” he breathed, reaching out to touch it. but you halted him with a firm hand. “not so fast,” you cautioned. “the amulet is protected by ancient enchantments. we must proceed with caution.”

together, you unraveled the intricate web of magic guarding the amulet. each step was perilous, as one wrong move could unleash catastrophic consequences. the air crackled with energy as you manipulated the spells, your heretic abilities and klaus's vampiric strength intertwining seamlessly.

at last, the final barrier fell, and klaus gingerly lifted the amulet from its pedestal. power radiated from it, coursing through his veins. “now, my dear,” he declared, his voice trembling with a heady mix of excitement and greed, “we'll be ruling this city in no time.”

but just as klaus marveled at the amulet, a voice echoed through the chamber—a disembodied whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “you have awakened the darkness,” it intoned. “prepare to face the consequences.”

the room quaked, and the walls seemed to close in on you. you and klaus exchanged frantic glances as the amulet's power threatened to consume you both. it was a perilous gamble, one that could either solidify your reign or bring about your doom. and as the chamber trembled around you, you and him clung to the amulet, your fate uncertain. but in this moment of chaos and uncertainty, your partnership burned brighter than ever, a beacon of malevolence in the heart of the supernatural world.

#tvd #tvdu #the originals #legacies #klaus x reader #klaus imagine #klaus fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson smut

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peanut-butter-parkerxx · 2 months

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Summary: A baking adventure which includes a hot make-out sesh, a food fight and a whole lotta fluff and banter Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!reader Prompt(s): Friends to lovers, "i can't believe you talked me into this.", "Stop moving and let me braid your hair." Warning: food fight, kissing, making out, sensual touching

REQUEST FORM II NAVIGATION

The kitchen is suffused with the delightful aroma of freshly baked cookies, and warmth from the oven as Y/n bustles about humming a tune whilst preparing batches of chocolate chip cookies.

Elijah grins mischievously as he spots Y/n carefully measuring out the ingredients for the cookies. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he reaches for the bag of chocolate chips, skillfully snagging it from the counter.

Y/n's attire exudes a cozy charm, with a white long-sleeved cropped top complementing her figure. Paired with grey shorts, her outfit strikes the perfect balance between comfort and style. A cute bow adorns her cascading hair, which is styled in a playful half-up, half-down fashion, framing her face with effortless grace.

Elijah: "Need these, Y/n?" Y/n looks up, surprised, but a smile spreads across her face at Elijah's playful antics.

"Hey, those are for the cookies!"

Elijah chuckles, winking at her before handing over the bag of chocolate chips. He's clad in black pants and a cuffed white shirt, which he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows. Y/n can't help but feel a warm flutter in her chest as she watches him, appreciating the subtle gesture of charm.

"You look good with your sleeves rolled up like that, Elijah." Y/n remarks as Elijah grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement at her comment. He then adds with a playful smirk, stepping closer to her.

"Need me to carry you over there so you can reach the ingredients?"

Y/n rolls her eyes, laughing softly at his teasing. "Very funny, Elijah. I think I can manage on my own, thank you."

As Y/n reaches for the baking soda on the highest shelf, her fingertips barely brush against it, and she sighs in frustration.

Before she can react, Elijah scoops her up into his arms effortlessly, surprising her. Y/n's heart skips a beat as she finds herself being carried, her feet leaving the ground.

Y/n: "Elijah, I—"

But her words trail off as she realizes the close proximity, feeling the warmth of his touch against her bare skin. The cropped top she's wearing allows Elijah's to use the opportunity to touch and caress her in a way that makes the moment feel intimate and sensual. His hand grazing her stomach and sending shivers down her spine.

Elijah chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling her ear as he carries her closer to the shelf.

"Just helping you out, Y/n. Thought you could use a lift." He speaks as if carrying an entire person was child's play.

After retrieving the baking soda with Elijah's help, Y/n holds onto the item as he gently sets her down on the kitchen counter. She watches him with a mixture of surprise and affection as he positions himself between her legs, a playful glint in his eyes.

"What are you up to now?"

"I thought I'd surprise you," he whispers, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. His fingers start to trace delicate patterns on her inner thighs, slowly inching closer to where she craves his touch the most.

Y/n's heart races as anticipation builds within her, her body instinctively arching towards him. His hands, both gentle and possessive, cradle her face as he leans in, his gaze ablaze with unwavering intensity, conveying both reverence and longing. With a delicate touch, he traces the contours of her jawline and collarbone, savoring the warmth of her skin against his fingertips. his expertise leaving her breathless. There's a softness to his expression, a tenderness that belies the intensity of his desire. As their breaths mingle in the intimate space between them, Elijah's voice, a low, husky murmur, whispers words of adoration and desire, punctuated by the confession,

"I crave the taste of your lips, the feel of your skin against mine, the sound of your breath mingling with mine." With a gentle yet purposeful motion, Elijah leans closer, time seems to slow to a standstill as he hovers just inches away, his lips tantalizingly close to hers, teasing and tempting with the promise of sweet surrender. In that moment, there's nothing else in the world but the pull of their connection, the longing that pulses between them, as Elijah leans closer still, closing the gap between them until their lips finally meet in a tender, passionate kiss.

Elijah holds Y/N tightly by the waist, pulling her closer to him with an unwavering determination. Y/N responds to his touch with a soft gasp of pleasure, her body instinctively leaning into his embrace, seeking warmth and security in his arms. his embrace is both protective and possessive, drawing her closer to him with a strength that leaves no room for doubt about the depth of his desire. Their chests rise and fall in unison, each breath mingling with the other's in a rhythm that echoes the pounding of their hearts.

Y/N's fingers thread through Elijah's hair, a low rumbling sound escapes his throat, a mixture of pleasure and desire, as he instinctively leans into her touch, savoring the sensation of her fingertips against his scalp. His own breath catches in his throat as he draws her closer, his senses overwhelmed by the heady scent of her skin and the taste of her lips lingering on his own.

The moment is suddenly interrupted as Kol and Rebekah enter the room, catching them in their intimate embrace. There's a fleeting moment of surprise before Elijah, ever the epitome of composure, swiftly composes himself, though the flicker of desire still lingers in his eyes.

As Kol saunters into the room, his eyes twinkling mischievously, he can't resist adding his signature flair, "Well, well, what do we have simmering here, lovebirds?" His teasing remark punctuates the moment, eliciting a chuckle from Elijah and a playful roll of the eyes from Y/n

Rebekah arches an amused eyebrow and offers a sly smile, her tone teasing yet affectionate, "Seems like we've interrupted quite the cozy scene here. Do I even want to know what you two have been up to?" She winks.

Elijah's lips quirk into a subtle smile, amusement dancing in his eyes as he adds, "Y/n was just indulging in her latest culinary experiment."

Y/n, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks at being caught in such a moment with Elijah by her friends, chuckles nervously, "Yeah, I thought I'd give baking a try. Turns out, it's a bit more eventful than I anticipated." She shoots Elijah a playful look.

"Well, I must say, Y/n, your baking skills certainly have the power to surprise." Elijah gently gripped Y/N's waist as they stood together, his touch tender yet firm. With a subtle squeeze, he conveyed a sense of intimacy and affection, his fingers lightly embracing Y/N's form.

But out of nowhere, from the corner of Rebekah's eye, Rebekah spots the bowl of flour on the counter, calling her name.

"I call dibs on the flour!" With a grin, she grabs a handful and throws it at Kol, who retaliates with a handful of chocolate chips. In the chaos that ensues, flour fills the air like a soft snowfall, and chocolate smears decorate their faces and clothes.

Elijah steps in front of Y/n, shielding her from the impending mess. His stance protective as he creates a barrier between Y/N and the flurry of flour as Y/N continues with her baking, unfazed by the flour flying past them.

Y/N lets out a playful laugh, nudging Elijah's side with a grin. "Well, that was a close call, wasn't it? Almost got caught in the crossfire there," she jokes, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Elijah turns to her, his expression softening as he leans in closer, his hand finding its place gently on her waist. With a subtle smile, he murmurs, "Indeed, my dear, but I believe we have some unfinished business," his voice laced with a hint of playful mischief as he draws her into another tender kiss, their surroundings fading into the background as they savor the moment together.

Kol, in the midst of the flour fight frenzy, accidentally flings a dollop of food that lands squarely on the back of Elijah's shirt. The unexpected impact catches Elijah's attention, causing him to turn around with a bemused expression, only to find himself face to face with the mischievous grins of Kol and Rebekah.

With a chuckle, Elijah shakes his head in mock exasperation, but his gaze quickly returns to Y/N, a fond smile gracing his lips. "Seems you’re not the only one in need of protection," he teases, his hand still resting on her waist as he leans in closer.

Kol seizes the opportunity to launch a handful of flour in Y/N's direction. The powdery substance catches her by surprise, dusting her shoulders and hair with a fine white layer.

Y/N lets out a surprised laugh, brushing off the flour with a playful swat at Kol. "Oh, you're asking for it now, Kol!" she warns, her eyes dancing with mischief.

As the flour fight reaches its peak, Elijah can't help but chuckle as he watches Y/N fully immersed in the playful chaos, her laughter contagious.

"Alright, that's enough, children," Elijah calls out with mock sternness, his tone laced with amusement. "Let's save some flour for the actual baking, shall we?"

Rebekah and Kol exchange knowing glances, their laughter still bubbling just beneath the surface. Kol chuckles, wiping flour off his face. "Aw, come on, Elijah! Where's your sense of fun?"

"I thought you enjoyed a little messiness now and then." Rebekah quipped, eyeing him and y/n as if to mock the intimate moment they've had a few minutes prior.

Elijah rolls his eyes in mock exasperation, a fond smile playing on his lips. "There's fun, and then there's flour all over the kitchen," he retorts, unable to hide his amusement at his siblings antics.

"Look what you've done, you two!" Elijah add as he gestures toward Y/N, who is now adorned in a cloud of flour. "Y/N's covered in flour!"

"Well, it seems Elijah's gone all soft when it comes to you, Y/N. Watch out, he might try to put you in bubble wrap next!" Y/n blushes, feeling a warmth spreading through her cheeks at Kol's teasing.

Rolling his eyes at their teasing once again, Elijah adopts a mock stern expression. "Enough with the teasing, you two," he chides, "If you're quite finished turning my kitchen into a battleground, I suggest you clean up this mess."

Turning his attention back to Y/N, his expression softening as he gazes at her amidst the floury chaos. "Come, love," he says gently, offering her a hand. "Let's leave these two to clean up while we wash up upstairs. You can return to a clean kitchen to finish your culinary pursuits." Y/N's eyes light up with gratitude as she takes Elijah's hand, a smile playing on her lips.

#fluff #daniel gillies #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #new orleans #rebekahmikaelson #vampires #kol mikaelson

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lis-likes-fics · 9 months

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A Night to Remember

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader Word Count: 5k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral sex (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, language, slight dumbification (if you blink, you'll miss it), creampie, slight dirty talk/degradation (if you blink, you'll miss it), Elijah's species unspecified... A/N: This was originally called "Bad Habits Lead to You" bc I was writing it around the song by Ed Sheeran, but I changed my mind cuz I liked this more. ALso, I have not written for Elijah in forever, so this made me really happy to write. Nevermind that I started writing this in October 2022. Thanks and enjoy!

Your plum dress was tight against your skin. It was something you knew he'd enjoy, a dress you'd chosen specifically to please the man you were practically praying would arrive as you fingered the jewels of the fancy necklace around your neck. It was heavy, thoroughly bedazzled and way too expensive for anything you could ever afford. A gift from the gentleman himself.

Many faces were shrouded from view by masks of simple and extravagant designs of all kinds. Yours, like your necklace, was worth its weight in gold and more; another gift. Flitting through the party, grins and smirks were sent your way from men and women alike. Some were admiring, some hungry, others were strewn onto faces out of envy.

That envy would grow when they find who was coupled with this goddess in purple and gold. You spotted him at the center of the mezzanine, looking down at all the guests like he was the king of his own personal kingdom through the eyes of his mask, one that paired with your own. The look in his eyes certainly conveyed that superiority, lighting a match that lived in the pit of your stomach and between your thighs as you stared up at him with an adoring gaze.

He had already been watching you, a dark hunger taking you in. You made your way toward him, stepping up each marble stair to reach this man who decked you out like a queen. He was reaching out for your hand before you reached the top step, taking it and bending down to place a kiss to the back of your palm. “My dear,” he greeted affectionately.

Goosebumps shivered up your arm and into your bloodstream. Your body threatened to follow suit as you watched him handle you with such…care. “Elijah,” you responded.

“Would you care to dance?” He straightened his back, even took a small step closer and eliminated the personal space that had already been demolished the first moment you saw this adonis of a man.

You breathed a quiet breath at his question, “A gentleman, as always.” As always. You said it as though you’d known him for more than simply a week. In truth, Elijah was a fling. You’d met him a week prior, caught up in all of his grace and eloquence as he swept you across the dance floor of the extended masquerade ball and then into his arms to take you to bed.

It wasn’t normally like you, to be so taken by some stranger enough to sleep with him that same night. And then to sleep with him the next night, and the night after that, and so on, and so forth. But there was something about Elijah, something so captivating that you could not quite place.

As he swept you to the dance floor for yet another seductive venture across the marble, you accepted with little more than a simple nod.

And then, when he pressed you against a wall in a darkened nook in the large mansion of a home, you gasped into the unusually warm air of the late autumn night as his hot lips pressed to the heated skin of your chest and he devoured you.

Last night was supposed to be the last time, and the night before that, and the night before that. He was like some drug that you had all too quickly become addicted to—and with a face like that, how could you not?

You knew you shouldn't. At the very least, you should try not to. It was not as though he was the perfect man. No, your perfect man would still be there when you woke in the morning with aching limbs, a souvenir, and cold sheets that barely held enough warmth to convince you his departure was recent.

Your perfect man would not grant you a collection of late nights full of pleasure and desire ending alone in the morning with a handwritten note and a new little gift.

Or, perhaps, he was doing you a service. Showing you how impermanent this arrangement was—how impermanent it should be. If only you would listen, take his flight for what it was: a warning.

But as his warm lips slotted perfectly against the column of your throat, leaving you gasping and clawing at his strong arms, you knew once again that your lesson was not learned. He dipped down and secured your leg in his steel grip, brushing it up his side to rest along his hip. He pressed himself closer to your body and returned his lips to your own. He pulled back for a moment, towering over you as he stared with those dark, predatory eyes: a lure, a trap. “Would you like to carry this somewhere more intimate?”

There were two responses waiting on your tongue. A less sensible one, “What's the need? Let them hear us.” And a more sensible one, “Yes, I want you all to myself.”

The only reason the latter was more sensible was because it gave you the option of containing your ardor so you could speak sensibly. Hardly any sober words were exchanged when you were in the throes of intoxicating passion with this man. And there was a reason you came here tonight…

Other than your endless desire to find your body melding with his own, an entanglement of limbs and complicated emotions.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Let’s go.”

He carefully released your leg with a wolfish grin, readjusting your appearances so you didn’t look as frazzled as you were. One quick kiss to your lips and he was walking with you back into the crowds of the masquerade ball.

Dancing through the crowd was easy, getting out of the door was easy, getting into his car was easy. The hard part came when you were driving away in the silence of his sleek Mercedes-Benz.

“Elijah,” you found your voice, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to organize your thoughts. He glanced at you before returning his gaze to the road. He hummed deeply in his throat, and you cleared yours, turning your gaze on him and smiling to shield the nerves. “Why did you choose me? Of all the women you could have taken home that first night, the second, the third, all of it, why did you choose me?”

It had confused you since you first met at the beginning of the ball. Was he bored? Were you convenient? Just the first person he laid eyes on? Why you?

His gaze flitted between you and the road as his lips twitched. He licked his bottom lip slowly, shifting his hand to rest atop your own. He squeezed it gently. "You intrigue me."

"I intrigue you?" you echoed, tilting your head.

He nodded. "You're beautiful, you're clever, and you're asking the right questions."

You blinked, glancing away for a moment before looking back again. "I'm asking the questions?" You hated that you couldn't find your own words right then, you couldn't come up with a response (which led you to debate the cleverness he claimed you had).

His gaze lingered a little longer on you than it probably should have. "If I'd picked the wrong woman, she would continue our exploits with no regard for her own self-worth. She'd be content with being just another woman in my sheets."

"A whore?" you quirked a brow and smirked playfully. His smile grew and he shrugged, but did not confirm the choice of words you so elegantly put forth.

You sat back and felt the smile on your face shift slightly into a look of contemplation. "So I wasn't just easy?"

He shook his head, this time with a little chuckle. "Of course not." He leaned into your ear, and a shiver rushed through your spine at the closeness. "I don't like easy."

The sensibility was gone, and the arousal had returned as he pulled into the lot of his home. He rounded the car and came to your side, opening your door and offering his hand. Stepping out, your eyes locked as you rose to your feet, entirely invading the personal space which had stopped existing.

Your lips were inches apart as you lingered there before brushing past him and walking ahead toward the house. He followed behind you, for once leaving him mystified instead of you. You walked on toward the house, dimly lit and awaiting your company, until he was coming up behind you with his arms around your waist. He wrapped you up and carried you inside like a bride—no, not a bride. You can't even consider it in that way, lest you make the biggest mistake of your life.

He opened the door and listened to your giddy excitement as he smiled at you all the way up the expanse of the stairs. The way he burst through his bedroom door and dropped you onto the bed rivaled his gentlemanly behavior over the course of the past few days.

He kicked the door closed with his foot and stalked toward you, depraved and bloodthirsty. You'd been in this position before, staring up at him with hooded eyes. He discarded his blazer, looming over your body and ravaging your lips. His hands held you close to him as he dragged the zipper of your dress down along your back.

You gasped into his kiss, sloppy and without care to the intricate details of intimacy. You pressed your palms against his sides and pulled him closer to you. As his large hand cupped your throat, your back arched into him and his kisses lapped along your jaw. Shallow breaths fanned along your skin, and you welcomed it with short sighs.

You raised a hand against his chest, your fingers danced along his collarbone. Pushing him back, he sat on his knees as you followed, chasing his lips. You flattened your hand along the side of his neck, guiding him onto his back so you could straddle him. Your movement was slow and measured, taking one thing at a time to prolong your evening together as long as possible.

Your lips molded together once more, your hips moving to a slow grind. His eyes never left yours, a guile intimacy that urged your fervor to moan-filled kisses that set your skin ablaze. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your hips onto his. Your eyes shut as a delicate sigh passed your lips, your hands grasping onto his shoulders for support as he rocked you back and forth atop him.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, addicted to the feel of him touching your body. One of your hands moved to sit atop his own, holding him as you ground your hips. He watched you move with lidded eyes as your head fell back and your lips parted in a lustful ‘O’.

His hands trailed up your body and under the fabric half-forgotten on you until he was surrounding your chest, leaning forward just enough to allow you to sit in his lap as your dress rode up higher and higher along your thighs and hung around your shoulders. Despite his determination to undress you until you were bare before him, he wanted to take his time ravaging your body. Soon your dress was discarded and you were left in nothing but the lingerie that had been sitting idly by in your closet until this night.

He looked up at you with a smirk, teasing, “All for me?”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him with a playful laugh, “No, for the doorman at the party.”

He rolled his eyes a little. “Well, the doorman is fired.” You laughed and he silenced you with his lips upon your chest. You bared your neck for him, sighing gently as your hands played with the fabric of his expensive bowtie.

You attacked his lips as you did your best to fumble for the buttons of his shirt. They twisted and slipped from your fingers, and your patience had run out before long to send what felt like a million buttons shooting from his shirt and all around you. Your hands roamed the expanse of his broad chest, pressing your fingertips into his flesh. “Such an impatient creature,” he hummed.

“Shut up,” you sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him to your lips again. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled his body flush against yours, your tongue slipping into his mouth as his own joined in. Your hands shifted from his neck to his chest as you felt his warm skin beneath your palms. You huffed as you allowed your hips to grind down on him again, pulling a wavering moan from your throat and making you sound deliciously pathetic.

“I need you,” you whimpered against his lips, opening your eyes to grant him that needy look that you hoped would get you what you wanted.

He just smiled, as though he could read your mind. “Patience, my dear.” He shifted upon the bed so he was closer to the headboard as he began to lean forward, holding you to his body as he moved to lay you on the bed. You lay back with shallow breath, staring up at him as he gazed back, never breaking eye contact for a moment as he adjusted himself to tower over you.

He leaned in and you bared your neck to him again as he pressed a kiss to your throat, right on top where the muscles shifted as you moaned. He hummed deep in his own throat, his lips caressing your skin as he took his time with you. You held your breath when the tip of his tongue dragged along your skin from the bottom to the top as he traced a vein thumping there. You whispered his name and he rewarded you with the press of his knee into your needy core, just barely reaching your clit enough to make you sigh again.

His lips trailed along your body, spending too much time on every little patch of skin he could find as he traveled down, down, down. He pulled your legs over his shoulders, pressed his kisses into your thighs, and you whimpered when his teeth teased the flesh he grazed. He stared you in the eyes as he did it, moving closer to where you burned for him until his lips found your clit. You sighed gently at the feeling, but you were swiftly interrupted as it didn't last.

He dove into you, his lips and tongue and teeth attacking you. From here, with the way his hair fell over his forehead and his eyes grew dark and primal, he looked like a predator. His name stuttered from your lips, dropping the first letter as you gasp at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your pussy. His fingers dig into your thighs, his lips suck on your clit, his tongue licks into you. Your back arches off the bed and your fingers tangle in his hair. You can't help your whimper as he pleasures you, an expert, it seems, in everything he does.

He moaned into you, sending shivers up your spine as you tugged on his hair. His tongue flicked insistently at your clit, eager to taste you again as you whimpered deliciously.

The sound broke when his fingers prodded at your pussy, slipping the tips of them into your warmth and slowly working them deeper and deeper. Once buried inside of you, he thrusts them slowly at first, in and out and in and out, playing you like an instrument as he curls and pumps his fingers. His slow pace never lasted as he built you to the top, wanting so badly to watch you shatter with your release.

You cursed under your breath, feeling a knot in your belly as you clenched down around his fingers, your clit pulsing against his tongue. "I'm so close," you whimper, grinding urgently against his face.

He was so in tune with your body by now. It took past lovers so long to learn your stops and goes, what makes you tick, what makes you scream. You had known Elijah a week, and he had mastered it.

As the pleasure twisted in your gut and your chest filled with air, you could feel your release taunting you. You whispered his name just as you were about to come.

And Elijah pulled away.

The frustration built quickly in the pit of your stomach, and you clenched the bedsheets and your jaw flexed. You could feel your pleasure retreating like waves after they've licked the shore, spoiling inside of you. Elijah's lips found yours again, smirking against them as you reluctantly kissed him back, angry but still not immune to his charm.

"Fuck you," you breathed against his lips.

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'd rather fuck you."

You rolled your eyes, interrupted by his lips once more, his tongue licking into your mouth. He wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling them tight as he supported you to straddle his lap. His hands grabbed your ass, squeezing and smacking the flesh once. You yelped, your foreheads meeting as you breathed the other's air.

"Please, Elijah," you begged, too desperate to be shy, too enraptured in his skill to be ashamed.

His hand smoothed along your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair to move it back and away from your face. "What do you want, hm?" he hummed. "Tell me what you want, my dear."

You carded your fingers through his hair and sighed longingly. Between kisses, you whispered, "Fuck me. Like you did the first night." You braced your hands around the back of his neck, opening your eyes to look at the dark coffee brown of his own. "If this is my last night with you, I want to make it count."

His breath slowed for a moment as his eyes trailed over your face, like he only just now realized tonight would be the last night and he wanted to really look at you before he never saw you again. Yours did the same. This was the last night.

The moment, full of more intimacy than a couple of one week should be capable of, passed with only a few seconds more than there should have been. He took your hips in his palms, kneaded the flesh, and pulled you into a slow kiss just as desperate as the ones before.

A new passion took you as he rolled your hips in his lap, grinding your wet pussy along his dark slacks, ruining them for future wear as your arousal smeared all over the fabric. He didn't seem to care, especially not with the way he moved your hips to ruin them some more. You only paused his hands when you lifted one leg from their position on either side of him to begin undoing his slacks, slipping them down his legs until they were entirely discarded. Crawling back into his lap and taking his beautiful cock in your hand with an enthusiasm that made him chuckle, you stroked the thick length of him in your palm, up and down and up and down, as beads of precum slipped from the weeping tip and dribbled down the side of him.

"Fuck," he cursed with his forehead against yours, leaning his head to fall onto your shoulder as you moved your wet palm to a steady rhythm along his hard cock. "Look at what you do to me."

You moaned at his praise, working your fist faster until he suddenly grabbed your wrist to stop you. He gave you a hard, dark stare before lifting your waist. As you sat up on your knees, feeling the hard tip of him tapping against your slit, you bit your lip to contain your moan.

He lifted your chin to look at him, his eyes boring into your own as that silent question urged an answer. Do you want this? For the last time, do you want this?

No, you thought to yourself, flattening your palm against his chest. Not for the last time.

"Please, Lijah," you whispered. "Fuck, I need you. I want you."

Taking your hips, he lowered you into his lap, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching as he groaned deep on his throat, letting his head fall back to savor the moment. You moaned, feeling yourself flutter around his cock as you took him into your tight pussy. You whimpered his name through trembling lips, laying your head against his shoulder.

"Good girl," he breathed in a strained manner, his hands roaming your body as he felt you clench around him. Your lips pressed to his neck, your tongue tracing over a vein there, as you slowly rocked your hips on top of him. He groaned roughly as you did.

Slowly, your bodies built a rhythm, a steady pace setting as you moved in tandem, thriving off the other's lust as you grabbed and felt and moaned and kissed. The intimacy licked at your skin and sunk into your bones, coating you in lust thick and sweet like honey. It pulsed and pumped through your veins like blood, your very life force shifting to depend on his tenderness.

You bounced in his laps with a level of excitement that mirrored the pleasure on your face. His breath was heavy in your ear as he thrust his hips up to meet the roll of your hips to the best of his ability. As the desperation to feel you, to hear you, filled his blood, he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you to pull your body flush against his own. He laid you once more on your back, reseating himself inside of you as one hand gripped your waist and the other propped himself up beside your head.

Easing some hair from your face, he pressed his lips to the underside of your jaw, right above a pressure point that made you choke, and began to move his hips in a steady rhythm. In and out and in and out and filling to the brim. Your breath was heavy in your lungs and your hands draped off his shoulders as he pumped his cock into you. He watched you whimper as your body bounced up and down in time with his thrusts, your breasts doing the same in their own dance as he brought a hand to grope them.

Again, his name slipped off your tongue as you gripped his waist, guiding his thrusts lazily. The soft sheets of the bed caressed your skin, his hands grabbed at you, his lips switched between licking, kissing, and speaking into your flesh.

Then, as he braced his arms at either side of your head, he steadied himself with the darkest look in his eyes. You choked on your own breath as his hips snapped into yours, a rough moan forcing from your throat as you grabbed at any skin you could find. His thrusts continued in the same manner, fast and rough as the tip of his cock knocked against the deepest part of you with every thrust.

You were needy, grinding your hips up to meet each powerful thrust as you moaned and whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, intent on satisfying your desperation for relief.

"Look at you," he sighed. "Beautiful."

You whimpered, especially as his hands slid across your skin and hooked underneath your thighs. pulling them over his shoulders, he held them there as he leaned forward to fold you in half. The new angle sent a whole new array of emotions through you, your entire body tingling at the sensations he filled you with.

"Mmph, Lijah," you gasped.

His thrusts continued; hips snapping, fingers grasping, lips parting against a shuddering breath. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice thick as his words dripped like honey onto your skin.

You didn't respond, your trembling moan squealing in your throat and your eyes squeezing shut, too far away to properly heed his command. He pressed a hand to your cheek, lightly gripping your face and turning you to look at him, noticing the way your eyes droop.

"Come on," he urged darkly. "Say it again. My name. Come on, say it. You can do it." He spoke through heavy breaths and broken groans, bending down to even take your bottom lip between his teeth just to give his mouth something to do as he stared at your fucked out face.

You stuttered it out. "Lijah," you begged. "Elijah, please."

He was weak at your whimpers, his hips jerking slightly in the middle of a particularly rough thrust. "Please what? Tell me what you want, my dear."

Your answer was delayed—and for a moment, he thought he'd fucked you dumb (which was only partially true). "Please, harder. Lemme cum, I needa cum."

He held you tighter, his eagerness to feel you cum around him, your cunt already squeezing him so well, making him crazy. "You want to cum on my cock, dirty girl?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed. "Yes, please, Elijah."

He wanted to prolong this just a little while longer, loving the way you struggled to hold his gaze as the pleasure urged you to squeeze your eyes shut and grip him tighter. He loved the way your arms held his neck, he loved the way your legs twitched on his shoulders, he loved the sounds your cunt made on each impact of his hips, he loved the taste of your skin on his tongue, he loved the way your pussy fluttered around his cock, he loved the way your perfume wafted gently against his face, he loved the way you looked bouncing up and down with each rock of his hips.

His hand snaked between both of your bodies, the stickiness of your body, coming from both the arousal smearing all over your skin and his and the sweat building from the exertion of the pleasure. His thumb found your clit, rubbing circles into the bud with a dexterity that had you moaning loudly. The sensations sparked all along your body, filling you up bit by bit with the heat of his intimacy.

The rhythm of your bodies persisted, working together in perfect harmony, chasing both releases like your lives depended on it. "Elijah," his name fell off your lips like a prayer, praising him like a god meant to be worshiped.

"Again," he breathed, his tone growing darker and darker the closer each of you got to that point of pure ecstasy. "Say my name again."

"Elijah."

"Again."

"Elijah!"

"Say it again."

"Eli–!" You stuttered on the word, your breath catching in your throat as the pleasure suddenly hit you. It exploded in your belly and warmed your whole being as your muscles tightened around him. You moaned and gasped as your cunt clenched down around his pulsing cock, feeling your legs tremble and your breath shudder before kicking into a hyperventilation of a release. His cock twitched inside of you, the squeeze of your cunt too much as he continued to thrust into you, fucking you through your release as your vision went white and your ears rang.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you announced when your lips could form the word, biting your lip so hard in reaction to your orgasm that you draw blood. A symphony of moaned "yes's" fell from your mouth as you felt the pleasure waning.

Elijah's hips jerked before you felt the hot release of him inside of you, a deep groan scratching in his throat as he buried himself deeply inside of you, as deep as he'd go. He rolled his hips as he came, his breath heavy and filled lust as he let himself succumb to your pleasure.

You whined as his cock pressed against the deepest part of you even after the oversensitivity has taken over and the feeling of him aches so well inside of you. "Elijah," you mewl.

It took a while before you both returned to the ground, easing out of your clouded pleasure. Your breaths mingled as you caught them.

As your hearts slowed and your muscles became so wonderfully loosened, he slipped out of you with a regretful sigh. You laid back against the bed, lazy and spent. His lips captured your own once more, molding in a lax embrace. His mouth slipped down your jaw and toward your neck, placing a kiss there and then easing farther down to your soft shoulder.

He eased off of you, rolling onto his side and pulling an arm over your midsection. He pulled you closer to him, sighing gently as his breath fanned over your skin.

You rolled your head over to him, smiling softly. He returned the smile. "You did wonderfully, my dear," he whispered.

Instead of responding, you leaned over and kissed his soft lips again. "So did you," you said.

You laid there and stared at one another, a longing gaze passing between the both of you as the reality of this being the last night sunk in. He would be gone tomorrow.

Your smile fell slowly and you sighed. "I don't want you to leave."

He smiled sadly. "Will you miss me?"

"I'll miss the mind-blowing sex," you smirked. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, finding it funnier than he probably should have. You laughed with him. As the giggles subsided, you frowned again, nodding. "Yes. I'm gonna miss you."

You stared again. His eyes were so beautiful. That tiny mole on the left side of his cheek was handsome. His chin dimple, alluring. You raised a hand to brush his stubbled face. He covered your hand with his. You kissed him again.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

You licked your bottom lip. You leaned forward. "So let's make this night one to remember."

"Again?" he laughed. "Are you not satisfied?"

You smiled, "Not enough to leave it at that." You kissed his lips once more before wandering down his chest, moving to straddle his body. You kissed down his body as he sighed deeply, a tiny groan leaving his chest. As your lips brushed the delectable space of his V-line, he groaned.

A night to remember.

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athenamikaelson · 4 months

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hii i was wondering if you could do a imagine where the reader is klaus daughter and she is a tribrid like hope and her boyfriend died or something like that (you can change it idc) and she turns her humanity off and she is all badass and he tries to turn it back on also i love your blog

Klaus Mikaelson x Daughter!Reader

Summary- Reader is Klaus’ daughter and also a tribrid, her boyfriend gets killed which results in her flipping the switch. Klaus is there to get her to turn her humanity back on. Also, I didn’t know whether to add Hayley as her biological mother so I’m going to leave that up to you guys and just write the character as someone who had a mother-daughter LIKE relationship. Hayley is also still dead, RIP Queen.

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- Thank you for the request! And thank you for the compliment!!! <3

Warnings- Blood, Reader has no filter and no cares, mentions of death and killing, body parts, alcohol, swearing, Klaus and the reader have unresolved issues, Reader digs on Hope. (I love you Hope, no one can make me hate you.)

Blood drips down my lips as I throw the body of some rando onto the floor of the dusty-ass bar I’m in. I bring my hand up, wiping the stray crimson liquid off my chin, and bring it back to my lips. I sigh escapes my lips at the taste. Feeling a moment of euphoria; well technically as much euphoria as someone with no emotions can experience.

I catch the sound of the bar door opening from behind me and turn prepared to kill whomever decides to walk in. Unfortunately, the biggest earsore decided to grace my presence. If I could feel annoyance at this moment, I would. I let out a sigh of annoyance as I stared at my father. He stands at the entrance of the bar and casts a glance at the piles of bar patrons, or more truly the bar patrons' body parts, that are scattered across the floor.

“Well, it appears you’ve been busy.” He says with a smirk and slight tilt of his head. He kneels and picks up the head of a man by his hair and glances at me with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve been hanging out with your Uncle too much appears,” he says as he tosses the head back down as if it’s trash.

I just raise a shoulder as I walk behind the bar and pour myself a glass of bourbon.

“Says the man with the nickname, Klaus the Mad.” I shoot back as I down the brown liquor.

“Touche, Little Moon. I do have to say your,” My father pauses as he glances at the bodies around the bar, “habits, definitely come from my side of the family.” He appears to smirk in fatherly approval and then quickly covers it up with a shake of his head.

“Your Uncle Elijah wouldn’t approve of this you know?” He says as he reaches for the bourbon bottle. I watch as he pours himself a drink but before he can grab the glass I speed to grab it. I stare at him as I down the drink and then give him a thoughtful look, “Well why doesn’t he tell me that himself?” My father’s smirk drops and we stare at each other for a moment before I lean back onto the counter and raise my hand in a matter-of-fact movement, “Oh, right. He can’t. Because he’s like dead.” My father just rolls his eyes.

“You done?” He asks me with a look of disapproval only a father could master. I stare at him for a moment, tapping my chin and pretending to be in deep thought.

“Well I mean there’s like countless other dead relatives I could bring up,” I bring my right hand up and start counting on my fingers, “Josh, Hayley, Cami, Jackson.” I ponder some more thinking of all the other people that have died because of my family.

“Your boyfriend. Don’t forget to add him to the list.” I freeze for a split second as I hear my father’s words. I look at him and he’s staring at me with a knowing look. It takes me only another fraction of a second before I let out a laugh.

“I’m not turning it back on,” I tell him as I cross my arms and lean back against the counter. He stares back at me and taps his chin in the same way I had done moments before.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, turn what back on, Little Moon?” He says with a tone that makes me want to stick a white oak stake into his heart.

“Let me guess, Hope calls you crying to Daddy that her sister is going off the rails and hurting and killing people and needs to be stopped. Even though like a month ago she was going around telling everyone, “I’m the big scary tribrid I can’t be killed” and then goes and kills our friends?” I say in a matter-of-fact tone at my sister’s hypocrisy.

My father lets out a sigh as he goes to walk behind the bar next to me, he comes to stand next to me and I subconsciously take a step away resulting in my father stopping and staring at me.

“Y/N, Hope regrets everything she did and only wants you to know that turning your switch off is only a temporary fix.” I pretend to put a small smile on myself before dropping it and laughing in my father’s face.

“God Dad, you’d do a killing at a TED talk, maybe next you can tell a group of teenagers with anxiety to just “chill out” and that it’s all in their heads. Also, why the fuck did Hope get you to do her dirty work, why can't the big bad tribrid come and face me herself?”

“OK first, I have no idea what the bloody hell a TED talk is. And second, your sister called me worried and we both thought it would be a better decision that I come and talk to you. We both know that you have the emotional capacity of a Mikaelson. Just like your father.” He says with a small smile on his face.

“I remember once when you were 11 Kol told you that he wouldn’t teach you a certain spell because he said it was too advanced for you at that age. In retaliation, you went behind his back, stole the spell, and tried your hardest to do it. But as much as I hate to give your Uncle Kol any praise and I deny this if you ever tell him, Kol knows too much about spells and witch stuff so he was right about the spell being for a higher age level.”

I stand there remembering the exact story he’s retelling.

“No, it wasn’t.” I deny. He stares at me and raises his eyebrow.

“You caught your hair on fire, all of it burned off and Hayley had to buy you a wig. The wig was also an atrocious purple color.”

I just stare at him for a second and then nod remembering that the purple wig really was a horrible decision. For a split moment, I felt a light feeling in my chest at the memory but as quickly as I felt it I pushed it away.

“Let that feeling in, Little Moon,” he tells me as he reaches his hand out to touch my arm, but in a split moment, I grab his arm and push it back to a breaking point and push him away speeding to the edge of the room away from him.

“Don’t even try it, Dad, giving me a funny childhood story isn’t going to make me instantly turn it back on. One funny story doesn’t amount to all the other shit that went on,” I look at him in anger, “Do you remember why Hayley had to be the one to buy me the wig and not you?” My father’s face falls and goes to say something but I stop him.

“Hayley had to do it because you weren’t there. You. Weren’t. There. You had to hear this story from Hayley’s letters to you. Letters you never responded to. Just like the phone calls you never responded to me. Waiting by the phone every birthday, waiting for my father to call me, or watching the other girls go to the Daddy daughter dances while my father is across the world killing innocent people. So don’t for a second try to doting father act. I have every right to want a break for one second in my fucking life. Y/B/N dying was just the cherry on top of the fucked up ice cream that is my life.” I finish yelling at him as he stares at me with noticeable regret and heartbreak in his eyes. I watch as he picks up his hand and goes to reach out to me but drops it once I flash my tribrid eyes at him in warning.

“I know I wasn’t there for most of your childhood and I will always regret that,” My dad looks down at his hands and for the first time in my life I see the most feared man in the world look as little and humane as a mortal man, “but I’m here now Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere. You can flash your eyes at me, bite, and yell at me, even threaten me but I’m not going anywhere. I’ve lived a long time and have seen many people go through what you’re going through Little Moon. And I know you’re hurting and I know I’ve left you before and I will spend forever making up for that. And right now you need your family and, I’ll follow and annoy you until you’re ready to flip that switch. Always and forever, My Little Moon.”

When my father is done with his monologue I place another solemn look on my face and walk over to him and give him a small smile. My father seems to lighten up at my approach and goes to meet me but as he comes to pull me into a hug I speed behind him and snap his neck dropping his dead body onto the ground. His body blends with all the other dead people that are already scattered around the bar.

“You can take your Always and Forever and shove it down your throat,” I say to his dead body as I walk out of the bar.

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