[stefan/katherine] it's not you i see
Title: it's not you i see
Fandom: the vampire diaries
Characters: stefan salvatore, katherine pierce, klaus mikaelson
Word Count: 3,023
Rating: nc-17
Spoilers: season 3
Disclaimer: i don't own any of these characters. god help us if i did.
Summary: He almost turns around to go back into the house; to go back to Klaus. He almost thinks that it might be the saner thing for him to do. But he can see the dark wave of her hair curling around her shoulders as she opens the door to a neighbouring house and steps inside. He’s helpless as his feet follow her.
What if things had gone a little differently when Stefan and Katherine first met at the beginning of season three?
First time playing with these characters. Be gentle, guys.
Stefan thinks he’s gone insane.
The blood of his latest victim is fresh in his mouth. He can still taste the metallic tang on his tongue; can still feel the way the blood rushed warm down his throat as he pierced her flesh.
Her last breath echoes in his ears.
He wipes his mouth and takes a breath as her body falls to the floor. He blinks and the woman’s face flashes underneath his eyelids - her eyes wide and sparkling with tears as his eyes turned black and he grabbed her by the throat.
Stefan opens his eyes and tries to avoid looking at her body as he steps over the lifeless form on the floor. He blinks again and suddenly the woman’s face, twisted with fear, begins to melt away. Now it’s Elena’s face that burns in the darkness behind his eyes and he can’t help the breath that catches in his throat as he chokes and splutters at the memory of her.
Klaus looks up at him from the couch, his lips covered in the blood of the woman’s husband. “You alright, mate?”
Stefan nods as he catches his gaze. “Fine,” he murmurs. “I’m fine.”
Klaus narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, then turns his attention back to the body in his arms. He speaks just as he begins to lower his mouth back to the man’s neck. “Maybe you best go get yourself some air. Recompose yourself.”
Stefan nods and moves for the front door; grateful for the reprieve because the air in the house is heavy with blood and screams and death and he needs out.
He pushes clumsily against the solid timber of the door and as soon as the warmth of the sun hits his skin and he can feel the sting of the breeze he begins to feel better. A little less claustrophobic. A little less caged. A little less trapped.
But he knows that’s exactly what he is now: trapped.
He’s been with Klaus for six weeks. Six weeks of tracking werewolves and threatening locations out of witches and friends and family and they’ve killed so many, so many people. Stefan hates the way the blood makes him feel; he hates the way it seems to soothe and torture him both at once.
Most of all, he hates the way he sees Elena’s face. Before he kills. After he kills. When he’s awake. When he’s asleep. When he’s trying to erase the thickness of blood away from his throat with the cool burn of scotch.
He hates that he can’t stop seeing her. He hates it because he needs to stop.
He hates that he doesn’t want to stop.
He walks to the corner of the street and drags his hand through his hair; trying to clear his head, forget the taste of death on his tongue, get himself to function again. His eyes scan the rest of the street when he sees her.
“Elena,” he breathes, his lungs twisting up inside his chest at the sight of her.
She studies him from across the road, her hair flowing against her neck in the breeze. The orange sun sinks slowly past the horizon behind her and for a moment, it’s like she’s standing before a ball of flame.
He wants to move towards her and fall at her feet, but his knees feel like they’re made of jelly and he can’t move, fuck, he can’t move.
Elena, he mouths. Elena, Elena, I love you.
Then there’s a twist of her lips and she cocks her head just slightly.
He recognizes the look instantly and Stefan feels his stomach turn to stone.
“Katherine.”
She nods and he’s not sure, but he thinks he might see her smile. She turns her head to her right and motions for him to follow.
He almost turns around to go back into the house; to go back to Klaus. He almost thinks that it might be the saner thing for him to do. But he can see the dark wave of her hair curling around her shoulders as she opens the door to a neighbouring house and steps inside. He’s helpless as his feet follow her.
Stefan clenches his jaw as he pushes the front door closed behind him. She’s standing in the hallway in front of him, her arms folded against her chest.
He’s still a little shaken by the suddenness of her being here (at how he thought, really truly thought for a moment, that she was Elena here to save him). As he begins to speak, his eyes search the rest of the house behind her. “Are we alone?”
She nods. “I compelled the bored house wife who was here to go out and run some errands. Give us some alone time.”
He nods in return. She turns away and walks towards the kitchen and after a beat, he moves and follows her.
“You know if Klaus finds out you’re here Katherine, you’re dead.”
She twirls back to face him as they enter the room, and she flutters her eyelashes as she smiles. “You’re worried about my safety, Stefan?” She wrinkles her nose at him. “That’s so sweet.”
He bites back a scoff. It’s almost amusing, this situation he’s in. Standing in some stranger’s kitchen in some stock-standard suburb, chatting with Katherine while Klaus feeds just a few houses down the street.
He’s far too tired for this game.
“What do you want, Katherine?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve been worried about you, Stefan. So I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Making sure you don’t do anything stupid while you’re playing the part of Klaus’ new wingman.”
“Oh, of course,” Stefan says, nodding his head over emphatically. “Because making sure I don’t step out of line is your number one priority in life, right?”
“You seem to doubt my motives.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
Katherine pouts a little. “Stefan. I’m hurt.”
Stefan rubs at his temple and his words are thick with exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Katherine. I didn’t mean to upset you. I mean, it’s not as though every move you’ve ever made since the day I met you has given me reason to doubt the selflessness of your actions.”
She let’s out an approving tinkle of laughter as she narrows her eyes at him. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”
“So,” he says pointedly, “What is it that you want?”
The smirk that sat easily on her lips fades, and she focuses her gaze on him. “I was serious about keeping an eye on you. Believe what you will about why; it could be to make sure you don’t go too far off the edge that you can’t find your way back. Or it might be to try and keep one step ahead of Klaus so that he’ll never catch me off guard.”
Stefan can’t help the chuckle that falls off the edge of his breath.
She purses her lips and speaks quietly. “Who knows. Maybe it’s a little of both.”
There’s a tinge of something sad laced in the corners of her words and Stefan steals a glance at her for a moment and their eyes meet.
She looks away first.
“In any case, I have been watching you. And you know, you were doing so well at the start. So stoic, so dedicated to the cause; ready to do whatever Klaus asked of you. But something’s going wrong. You’re slipping.” She steps towards him slowly, her heels clicking against the kitchen tiles with each step. “You’ve been struggling.”
Stefan opens his mouth to argue. “Katherine, I don’t think you know what I --”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
He pauses. He looks down at the floor as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Stefan,” she pushes.
His eyes are dark as he looks back up at her. “I don’t.”
Katherine shakes her head and clucks her tongue. “I know you better than you think I do and I can tell --”
“I don’t miss Elena,” he says, and his voice doesn’t sound like his at all.
She rolls her eyes and steps closer towards him. “You’re a terrible liar Stefan. You always have been.”
Stefan looks away. He doesn’t say anything more; he doesn’t trust himself with his words. So he stands and squares his shoulders and he waits for Katherine to continue.
She keeps her eyes on him as she takes a few steps past him, moving around the kitchen. She draws her fingertip along the edge of the counter top as she speaks. “I’ve figured out what your plan is.”
Stefan doesn’t respond. He keeps his breathing even and steady.
“You’re Klaus’ little lap dog.” She watches him for a reaction, and when she gets none, she shrugs and continues. “You do whatever he asks you to do. You go wherever he asks you to go. You kill whomever he asks you to kill.”
He flinches a little at that; the way the word kill rolls from her tongue. The way it’s written all over him now, all over his skin and engraved in him even deeper still. He’s a killer. He’s a killer.
Katherine turns back towards him, rounding the corner of the kitchen bench. She stands close, her eyes level with his chin. She pokes a finger to his chest. “And I know that you’re doing it all - staying by his side as his trusty sidekick - so that you can find a way to destroy him.”
Stefan flicks his gaze down to her, his brow heavy.
“I know that’s what you’re doing Stefan,” Katherine says softly, her finger curling into the collar of his shirt, “because that’s exactly what I would do. The thing is, if you’re going to have any sort of chance of killing Klaus, you’ll need to be at your absolute prime.”
He’s watching her seriously now. It’s going against every instinct he has to listen to her, to trust her, to not just turn around and walk away. But if she can help him kill Klaus --
“You need to be focused. You need to be strong. Every thought you have must be consumed with Klaus’ demise. You cannot let yourself be distracted, Stefan.”
Katherine steps even closer to him, so that the air between them is mere centimeters. “But you are distracted,” he can feel her breath against his neck as she turns her lips towards his ear. “You miss Elena. You want Elena. All you think about is her.”
He closes his eyes, tries to shut her out. But her name echoes in his ears and in the darkness of his eyelids her face shines clearer than ever before.
“Stefan,” Katherine purrs, her lips curving along the shell of his ear. “Let me help you.”
He swallows hard and grits his teeth. “Katherine,” he grabs her by her shoulders, his hands trembling. “I don’t want you or your help.”
The corner of her mouth turns upwards. “But you want Elena.”
His grip on her shoulders tightens.
“And I can be Elena for you, Stefan.”
“Don’t.” He growls, his knuckles growing white as he pushes his fingers harder into her skin. “Don’t you dare, Katherine.”
“Let me help you.”
And he’s shaking her and muttering, “don’t, don’t do it, don’t, I can’t” and she’s just smiling her wicked smile back up at him. Then suddenly, her face seems to transform. She’s Katherine one second; devious and cunning and glorious and strong, but then her grin melts away and she stares up at him from underneath her lashes, her brow creased oh so slightly. Her brown eyes fill with concern and worry and innocence.
And love.
No, he thinks. No, it’s not her.
“Stefan?” She asks quietly.
He eases his grip on her shoulders. Just a little.
“Stefan,” her voice wavers with his name. “Stefan, I miss you. I love you.” There are tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she brings her hands up and covers his face in her hands, tracing her thumb against his jawline.
“I love you so much, Stefan.”
“No,” he chokes out, “You’re not her.”
“Stefan, please,” she pleads. A tear rolls down her cheek and her breathing hitches unevenly. “I’ve missed you so much. Haven’t you missed me?”
He can’t.
“Please, please. I need you, Stefan. I need you..
And she leans in and places a soft, tentative kiss on his lips. He shudders as her lips brush his and he closes his eyes and opens them and it’s Elena in front of him, Elena’s hands planted against his chest, Elena kissing him.
It’s Elena.
“God, Elena,” he mumbles against her lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Then show me,” she breathes. “Show me, Stefan.”
His hand curls at the back of her neck, wisps of her hair tickling his fingers.
He frowns as his lips capture hers. He can’t seem to control his actions as his hands move from her neck, trailing down her arms, down to her waist. He pulls her hard against him and she lets out a gasp.
He ducks his head and presses his lips to her neck. He moves his lips to where her pulse should be; beating strongly underneath her fragile skin - and when he can’t feel it, there’s a jolt of doubt that pierces him deep inside his gut.
But she moans his name, “Stefan”, and he hasn’t heard that sound in what feels like a lifetime now and god, he misses it, he misses her and he’s moving them towards the kitchen counter until her back connects with the edge.
Her hands are in his hair and he moves his lips from her neck to the expanse of skin that starts from the hollow of her throat and runs right down to the curve of her cleavage. His thumb ghosts across the swell of her breast and down her ribs and she arches even further into him.
There’s a growl that starts somewhere low in his throat that seems to take over his entire body as he grabs her by the waist and spins, throwing her against the wall.
He hears her head connect harshly with the wall and he pauses, his breath heavy. “Elena? Oh God, I’m sorry, I--”
“Shh,” Katherine whispers. “It’s okay Stefan. You can’t hurt me.”
She catches his eye and nods, reassuring him. He swallows hard, suddenly so very unsure of where he is or what he’s doing. He wants Elena so badly; needs her so badly. But he’s finding it hard to control himself and he should just stop this right now before he goes any further.
Then she hooks her leg around his hips, pulling him violently against her.
“Don’t hold back, Stefan. You won’t hurt me, I promise. I just want you.”
He sighs like he’s been caught; like he’s been defeated, as he kisses her hard. He grabs a fistful of the hem of her shirt and breaks away for a moment to pull it over her head. It’s gone in an instant and he’s back against her, his palms needy and hungry at her breasts.
Her breathing hitches when he dips his hand to find the zipper of her jeans. The sound fills the room as he quickly undoes them and she moves her hips messily to help ease them down her legs. She pulls at his belt, unbuckling deftly.
Stefan steps out of his jeans and presses against her, his teeth scraping the skin that stretches tight over her collarbone. Katherine hisses as he curls his fingers against the lace of her underwear and pushes it down past her ankles.
When he pushes inside of her, it’s urgent and rough and he doesn’t check to see if she’s okay.
He watches as her lips part as she breathes and he curls a hand into her hair and pulls her head forward, slamming his lips to hers as he thrusts his hips against hers.
Her teeth pull at his lip and Stefan grabs her, lifting her up from the floor and buries himself deeper inside. She locks her legs around him and rocks her hips in a rhythm and he thinks he’s falling apart.
She breathes his name, over and over, and it’s that that finishes him. Her voice. His name on her tongue.
“Oh god, Elena.”
He sinks his teeth into the curve of her shoulder as he comes.
Her blood is hot on his tongue and he shudders as he swallows because he can’t believe he’s tasting her again when he feels his lungs twist up inside his chest.
Because he realizes it’s not Elena’s blood he’s tasting.
He snaps his head up from her shoulder and is greeted with an unsettling grin sitting on Katherine’s lips.
“Feel better, Stefan?”
He pushes himself away from her, untangling their limbs and she drops back to the floor with a thud. He draws the air deep into his lungs, trying to stop the ache in his chest.
Katherine calmly bends down and wriggles back into her jeans. She pushes her hair behind her ears as she watches him dress himself.
“You better get back to Klaus before he starts wondering what you’re doing,” she drawls as she picks her shirt up. She laughs, a sound that makes Stefan’s knees buckle. “Or who you’re doing.”
He clenches his jaw and tries to think of something to say to her. But all he can see is how tousled her hair is from his grip and how red her lips are and he’s flooded with waves of guilt and shame and regret.
He turns around and makes his way towards the front door, leaving Katherine behind in the kitchen, smirking at his back.
Stefan walks out the front door and stops. He’s a fool for trusting himself with her. And he think he hates himself more right now than he ever has before.
He closes his eyes. And there’s a sickening ball of something that feels like relief that pools lowly in his stomach.
Because now, for the first time in weeks, all that he sees underneath his eyelids is darkness.
END.
Fandom: the vampire diaries
Characters: stefan salvatore, katherine pierce, klaus mikaelson
Word Count: 3,023
Rating: nc-17
Spoilers: season 3
Disclaimer: i don't own any of these characters. god help us if i did.
Summary: He almost turns around to go back into the house; to go back to Klaus. He almost thinks that it might be the saner thing for him to do. But he can see the dark wave of her hair curling around her shoulders as she opens the door to a neighbouring house and steps inside. He’s helpless as his feet follow her.
What if things had gone a little differently when Stefan and Katherine first met at the beginning of season three?
First time playing with these characters. Be gentle, guys.
Stefan thinks he’s gone insane.
The blood of his latest victim is fresh in his mouth. He can still taste the metallic tang on his tongue; can still feel the way the blood rushed warm down his throat as he pierced her flesh.
Her last breath echoes in his ears.
He wipes his mouth and takes a breath as her body falls to the floor. He blinks and the woman’s face flashes underneath his eyelids - her eyes wide and sparkling with tears as his eyes turned black and he grabbed her by the throat.
Stefan opens his eyes and tries to avoid looking at her body as he steps over the lifeless form on the floor. He blinks again and suddenly the woman’s face, twisted with fear, begins to melt away. Now it’s Elena’s face that burns in the darkness behind his eyes and he can’t help the breath that catches in his throat as he chokes and splutters at the memory of her.
Klaus looks up at him from the couch, his lips covered in the blood of the woman’s husband. “You alright, mate?”
Stefan nods as he catches his gaze. “Fine,” he murmurs. “I’m fine.”
Klaus narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, then turns his attention back to the body in his arms. He speaks just as he begins to lower his mouth back to the man’s neck. “Maybe you best go get yourself some air. Recompose yourself.”
Stefan nods and moves for the front door; grateful for the reprieve because the air in the house is heavy with blood and screams and death and he needs out.
He pushes clumsily against the solid timber of the door and as soon as the warmth of the sun hits his skin and he can feel the sting of the breeze he begins to feel better. A little less claustrophobic. A little less caged. A little less trapped.
But he knows that’s exactly what he is now: trapped.
He’s been with Klaus for six weeks. Six weeks of tracking werewolves and threatening locations out of witches and friends and family and they’ve killed so many, so many people. Stefan hates the way the blood makes him feel; he hates the way it seems to soothe and torture him both at once.
Most of all, he hates the way he sees Elena’s face. Before he kills. After he kills. When he’s awake. When he’s asleep. When he’s trying to erase the thickness of blood away from his throat with the cool burn of scotch.
He hates that he can’t stop seeing her. He hates it because he needs to stop.
He hates that he doesn’t want to stop.
He walks to the corner of the street and drags his hand through his hair; trying to clear his head, forget the taste of death on his tongue, get himself to function again. His eyes scan the rest of the street when he sees her.
“Elena,” he breathes, his lungs twisting up inside his chest at the sight of her.
She studies him from across the road, her hair flowing against her neck in the breeze. The orange sun sinks slowly past the horizon behind her and for a moment, it’s like she’s standing before a ball of flame.
He wants to move towards her and fall at her feet, but his knees feel like they’re made of jelly and he can’t move, fuck, he can’t move.
Elena, he mouths. Elena, Elena, I love you.
Then there’s a twist of her lips and she cocks her head just slightly.
He recognizes the look instantly and Stefan feels his stomach turn to stone.
“Katherine.”
She nods and he’s not sure, but he thinks he might see her smile. She turns her head to her right and motions for him to follow.
He almost turns around to go back into the house; to go back to Klaus. He almost thinks that it might be the saner thing for him to do. But he can see the dark wave of her hair curling around her shoulders as she opens the door to a neighbouring house and steps inside. He’s helpless as his feet follow her.
Stefan clenches his jaw as he pushes the front door closed behind him. She’s standing in the hallway in front of him, her arms folded against her chest.
He’s still a little shaken by the suddenness of her being here (at how he thought, really truly thought for a moment, that she was Elena here to save him). As he begins to speak, his eyes search the rest of the house behind her. “Are we alone?”
She nods. “I compelled the bored house wife who was here to go out and run some errands. Give us some alone time.”
He nods in return. She turns away and walks towards the kitchen and after a beat, he moves and follows her.
“You know if Klaus finds out you’re here Katherine, you’re dead.”
She twirls back to face him as they enter the room, and she flutters her eyelashes as she smiles. “You’re worried about my safety, Stefan?” She wrinkles her nose at him. “That’s so sweet.”
He bites back a scoff. It’s almost amusing, this situation he’s in. Standing in some stranger’s kitchen in some stock-standard suburb, chatting with Katherine while Klaus feeds just a few houses down the street.
He’s far too tired for this game.
“What do you want, Katherine?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve been worried about you, Stefan. So I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Making sure you don’t do anything stupid while you’re playing the part of Klaus’ new wingman.”
“Oh, of course,” Stefan says, nodding his head over emphatically. “Because making sure I don’t step out of line is your number one priority in life, right?”
“You seem to doubt my motives.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
Katherine pouts a little. “Stefan. I’m hurt.”
Stefan rubs at his temple and his words are thick with exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Katherine. I didn’t mean to upset you. I mean, it’s not as though every move you’ve ever made since the day I met you has given me reason to doubt the selflessness of your actions.”
She let’s out an approving tinkle of laughter as she narrows her eyes at him. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”
“So,” he says pointedly, “What is it that you want?”
The smirk that sat easily on her lips fades, and she focuses her gaze on him. “I was serious about keeping an eye on you. Believe what you will about why; it could be to make sure you don’t go too far off the edge that you can’t find your way back. Or it might be to try and keep one step ahead of Klaus so that he’ll never catch me off guard.”
Stefan can’t help the chuckle that falls off the edge of his breath.
She purses her lips and speaks quietly. “Who knows. Maybe it’s a little of both.”
There’s a tinge of something sad laced in the corners of her words and Stefan steals a glance at her for a moment and their eyes meet.
She looks away first.
“In any case, I have been watching you. And you know, you were doing so well at the start. So stoic, so dedicated to the cause; ready to do whatever Klaus asked of you. But something’s going wrong. You’re slipping.” She steps towards him slowly, her heels clicking against the kitchen tiles with each step. “You’ve been struggling.”
Stefan opens his mouth to argue. “Katherine, I don’t think you know what I --”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
He pauses. He looks down at the floor as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Stefan,” she pushes.
His eyes are dark as he looks back up at her. “I don’t.”
Katherine shakes her head and clucks her tongue. “I know you better than you think I do and I can tell --”
“I don’t miss Elena,” he says, and his voice doesn’t sound like his at all.
She rolls her eyes and steps closer towards him. “You’re a terrible liar Stefan. You always have been.”
Stefan looks away. He doesn’t say anything more; he doesn’t trust himself with his words. So he stands and squares his shoulders and he waits for Katherine to continue.
She keeps her eyes on him as she takes a few steps past him, moving around the kitchen. She draws her fingertip along the edge of the counter top as she speaks. “I’ve figured out what your plan is.”
Stefan doesn’t respond. He keeps his breathing even and steady.
“You’re Klaus’ little lap dog.” She watches him for a reaction, and when she gets none, she shrugs and continues. “You do whatever he asks you to do. You go wherever he asks you to go. You kill whomever he asks you to kill.”
He flinches a little at that; the way the word kill rolls from her tongue. The way it’s written all over him now, all over his skin and engraved in him even deeper still. He’s a killer. He’s a killer.
Katherine turns back towards him, rounding the corner of the kitchen bench. She stands close, her eyes level with his chin. She pokes a finger to his chest. “And I know that you’re doing it all - staying by his side as his trusty sidekick - so that you can find a way to destroy him.”
Stefan flicks his gaze down to her, his brow heavy.
“I know that’s what you’re doing Stefan,” Katherine says softly, her finger curling into the collar of his shirt, “because that’s exactly what I would do. The thing is, if you’re going to have any sort of chance of killing Klaus, you’ll need to be at your absolute prime.”
He’s watching her seriously now. It’s going against every instinct he has to listen to her, to trust her, to not just turn around and walk away. But if she can help him kill Klaus --
“You need to be focused. You need to be strong. Every thought you have must be consumed with Klaus’ demise. You cannot let yourself be distracted, Stefan.”
Katherine steps even closer to him, so that the air between them is mere centimeters. “But you are distracted,” he can feel her breath against his neck as she turns her lips towards his ear. “You miss Elena. You want Elena. All you think about is her.”
He closes his eyes, tries to shut her out. But her name echoes in his ears and in the darkness of his eyelids her face shines clearer than ever before.
“Stefan,” Katherine purrs, her lips curving along the shell of his ear. “Let me help you.”
He swallows hard and grits his teeth. “Katherine,” he grabs her by her shoulders, his hands trembling. “I don’t want you or your help.”
The corner of her mouth turns upwards. “But you want Elena.”
His grip on her shoulders tightens.
“And I can be Elena for you, Stefan.”
“Don’t.” He growls, his knuckles growing white as he pushes his fingers harder into her skin. “Don’t you dare, Katherine.”
“Let me help you.”
And he’s shaking her and muttering, “don’t, don’t do it, don’t, I can’t” and she’s just smiling her wicked smile back up at him. Then suddenly, her face seems to transform. She’s Katherine one second; devious and cunning and glorious and strong, but then her grin melts away and she stares up at him from underneath her lashes, her brow creased oh so slightly. Her brown eyes fill with concern and worry and innocence.
And love.
No, he thinks. No, it’s not her.
“Stefan?” She asks quietly.
He eases his grip on her shoulders. Just a little.
“Stefan,” her voice wavers with his name. “Stefan, I miss you. I love you.” There are tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she brings her hands up and covers his face in her hands, tracing her thumb against his jawline.
“I love you so much, Stefan.”
“No,” he chokes out, “You’re not her.”
“Stefan, please,” she pleads. A tear rolls down her cheek and her breathing hitches unevenly. “I’ve missed you so much. Haven’t you missed me?”
He can’t.
“Please, please. I need you, Stefan. I need you..
And she leans in and places a soft, tentative kiss on his lips. He shudders as her lips brush his and he closes his eyes and opens them and it’s Elena in front of him, Elena’s hands planted against his chest, Elena kissing him.
It’s Elena.
“God, Elena,” he mumbles against her lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Then show me,” she breathes. “Show me, Stefan.”
His hand curls at the back of her neck, wisps of her hair tickling his fingers.
He frowns as his lips capture hers. He can’t seem to control his actions as his hands move from her neck, trailing down her arms, down to her waist. He pulls her hard against him and she lets out a gasp.
He ducks his head and presses his lips to her neck. He moves his lips to where her pulse should be; beating strongly underneath her fragile skin - and when he can’t feel it, there’s a jolt of doubt that pierces him deep inside his gut.
But she moans his name, “Stefan”, and he hasn’t heard that sound in what feels like a lifetime now and god, he misses it, he misses her and he’s moving them towards the kitchen counter until her back connects with the edge.
Her hands are in his hair and he moves his lips from her neck to the expanse of skin that starts from the hollow of her throat and runs right down to the curve of her cleavage. His thumb ghosts across the swell of her breast and down her ribs and she arches even further into him.
There’s a growl that starts somewhere low in his throat that seems to take over his entire body as he grabs her by the waist and spins, throwing her against the wall.
He hears her head connect harshly with the wall and he pauses, his breath heavy. “Elena? Oh God, I’m sorry, I--”
“Shh,” Katherine whispers. “It’s okay Stefan. You can’t hurt me.”
She catches his eye and nods, reassuring him. He swallows hard, suddenly so very unsure of where he is or what he’s doing. He wants Elena so badly; needs her so badly. But he’s finding it hard to control himself and he should just stop this right now before he goes any further.
Then she hooks her leg around his hips, pulling him violently against her.
“Don’t hold back, Stefan. You won’t hurt me, I promise. I just want you.”
He sighs like he’s been caught; like he’s been defeated, as he kisses her hard. He grabs a fistful of the hem of her shirt and breaks away for a moment to pull it over her head. It’s gone in an instant and he’s back against her, his palms needy and hungry at her breasts.
Her breathing hitches when he dips his hand to find the zipper of her jeans. The sound fills the room as he quickly undoes them and she moves her hips messily to help ease them down her legs. She pulls at his belt, unbuckling deftly.
Stefan steps out of his jeans and presses against her, his teeth scraping the skin that stretches tight over her collarbone. Katherine hisses as he curls his fingers against the lace of her underwear and pushes it down past her ankles.
When he pushes inside of her, it’s urgent and rough and he doesn’t check to see if she’s okay.
He watches as her lips part as she breathes and he curls a hand into her hair and pulls her head forward, slamming his lips to hers as he thrusts his hips against hers.
Her teeth pull at his lip and Stefan grabs her, lifting her up from the floor and buries himself deeper inside. She locks her legs around him and rocks her hips in a rhythm and he thinks he’s falling apart.
She breathes his name, over and over, and it’s that that finishes him. Her voice. His name on her tongue.
“Oh god, Elena.”
He sinks his teeth into the curve of her shoulder as he comes.
Her blood is hot on his tongue and he shudders as he swallows because he can’t believe he’s tasting her again when he feels his lungs twist up inside his chest.
Because he realizes it’s not Elena’s blood he’s tasting.
He snaps his head up from her shoulder and is greeted with an unsettling grin sitting on Katherine’s lips.
“Feel better, Stefan?”
He pushes himself away from her, untangling their limbs and she drops back to the floor with a thud. He draws the air deep into his lungs, trying to stop the ache in his chest.
Katherine calmly bends down and wriggles back into her jeans. She pushes her hair behind her ears as she watches him dress himself.
“You better get back to Klaus before he starts wondering what you’re doing,” she drawls as she picks her shirt up. She laughs, a sound that makes Stefan’s knees buckle. “Or who you’re doing.”
He clenches his jaw and tries to think of something to say to her. But all he can see is how tousled her hair is from his grip and how red her lips are and he’s flooded with waves of guilt and shame and regret.
He turns around and makes his way towards the front door, leaving Katherine behind in the kitchen, smirking at his back.
Stefan walks out the front door and stops. He’s a fool for trusting himself with her. And he think he hates himself more right now than he ever has before.
He closes his eyes. And there’s a sickening ball of something that feels like relief that pools lowly in his stomach.
Because now, for the first time in weeks, all that he sees underneath his eyelids is darkness.
END.