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Elena hears how it starts again. Them. In the other room. The way Klaus teases and pushes Elijah’s buttons until he pushes back and they both disappear upstairs in a cacophony. She imagines the way they grapple with each other by the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, in the cracking of wood and glass, and words spit out in a language that has ceased to exist for most of the world. The way that their brand of violence turns into stolen caresses and bloodier sex.
And not being a part of it burns. It’s a heavy knot twisting inside her chest and a magma seething under her skin. The two of them together before her face ever haunted them. And after. How could she hope to come between the brothers when even Rebekah’s always and forever could not come between them. Her fingers clench painfully around her book, the words blurring on the pages before her. The scent of lavender from the little diffuser does little to calm her raging feelings in this moment.
The growls and slams of them fighting that slowly fade away as they reach the upper levels, the echoes of their passion barely reaching her ears from where she lounges on the library couch, straining to catch the softer snarls and the wet moans that slip through the crack of the door, followed by messy slaps of hips coming together and the creaks and crack of the wooden frame straining beneath their ancient forms. Her neck cranes uncomfortably straining to catch whispered words she can’t understand and knows she won’t hear.
And then complete silence. The calm after the storm passes through, ravaging nature everywhere it touches — and then the world comes to a stop the second it passes. And you can breathe in again. Until the next time.
Elena's gaze trails over Klaus's dozing form from across the room, the shadows cast from the fire’s dying light dancing across his naked skin under her heated gaze. The embers burning low keep their room warm in the winter evening, the woodsy scent of the smoke blending with the smell of sex permeating the room, blending together and creating a sensual, timeless feeling.
Not that the passing of time mattered to ancient creatures. Eternal monsters in the night that they are.
She props herself up against the arm of the armchair, a warm tingle spreading through her belly at the memories they made on the fabric earlier that night. She drags her fingers across the patterns. Across the blood and fluids. Teeth sink into her neck as she rides him, the pain dragging her over the edge again, her muscles pulsing around him as she feels Klaus release flooding inside her as her blood courses down his throat. Her contractions milk him until his cock is soft inside her and she drapes languidly across his lap, skin pressed against fevered skin. She wonders if Elijah compels a cleaning service or if it has been reupholstered at this point. The fabric always pristine again soon after. Her fingers are loose around the silicone cock strapped to her waist, mindlessly stroking it as her thoughts wander. Drifting back and forth. Up and down. She wants to be inside him. She wants to experience her hybrid the way he does. She wants to be a part of them, even if it is a brief moment of pretend. Elena wants to feel what their relationship is like without her in it.
Rising slowly from the armchair, she pads across the room softly, her feet barely making any noise on the rugs covering the hardwood floors. The bounce of the silicone cock strapped to her waist is a strange feeling as she walks, swaying before her with each step. Butterflies flutter in her belly with every step she takes, her movements unconsciously slowing as she fiddles with the bottle of lubricant in her hand. It gives her something to hold onto and ground herself with instead of fidgeting with the straps of her harness as she makes her way to their bed.
There is an intentional stillness about his form on the bed; it's too relaxed for a monster of his caliber. She knows he is aware of her presence even before her weight settles onto the bed, and as she crawls over and settles herself on the back of his thighs, her cock coming to rest between his cheeks. The smell of sweat sex and blood is strongest here. In their bed with their rumpled sheets and pillows everywhere. She can almost taste it as she admires her monster's golden skin – a map of muscles, scars, and ink scattered across his body forever frozen from his human years. She could spend days tracing them with her fingers solid muscles, imagining a time when her monster was not so monstrous. Just a boy. His skin is hot to the touch as she spreads his cheeks, admiring how her fingers dig into his skin and tug at the darker furrow between his cheeks. Elena imagines it will look pretty split open around his cock. She can almost hear the sounds he makes as narrow hips snap into his, fucking him into submission as her fingers dip along the tight skin, teasing the edges, and feels him twitch at her touch, a barely audible groan reaching her ears.
“I want to fuck you,” she murmurs into his ear, her hands mindlessly trailing over his body as they lay in bed. His form stills for a moment before she finds herself on her back, Klaus leaning over her, “Tell me how, Sweetheart.”
A grin crosses her flushed lips, “It’s a surprise.”
She flicks open the cap of the lubricant with a sharp snap and pours a generous amount onto her fingers before she dives in; her lips part with a gasp at the lewd squelching sound her fingers make as they press into him; she feels hot at the sight of herself filing him even like this. Powerful. One finger, two, three stretching him, scissoring back and forth just to watch her work go to waste right before her eyes as his body tightens up again the second her fingers begin to leave. Fighting her every step of the way. His body heals faster than she can prepare him.
Of course it does.
She gives up preparing him.
His form goes rigid beneath her as she pushes in, her eyes fixated on the sight of his insides being barred before her as the blunt head of the clear cock opens him wide, exposing the bright color of his insides to her. She sinks in and in and in until her hips are pressed into his butt cheeks, a low pitched whine coming to her attention, dragging her gaze away from their connection. Klaus shudders below her. She feels it in her palms as she drags her hands across his skin, almost petting him. Soothing him. She didn't expect him to react this strongly to the familiar presence inside him. It thrills her. He wasn’t expecting the feeling of a familiar cock when she mentioned trying something new.
She leans forward until she's pressed against his back and wiggles a hand underneath him until she can wrap it around his cock and finds it hard and leaking below him. Making a mess against his belly. Elena presses a kiss into his shoulder blades, roughly stroking him with her limited movement. Her voice is low, raspy as she whispers, "I wanted to share my new toy with you. Doesn't it feel good? I had this dildo specially made from a mold of Elijah's cock. Do you like it?" The sound that comes from his throat is unintelligible as he presses back against her, shaking. The words he is mumbling are in a language she can’t understand but hears the brothers speak when no one else is around but her. His unraveling does something to her, his reaction to feeling Elijah buried inside him everything nothing she could have imagined. The way he comes apart beneath her.
It takes time to find the right position and rhythm. She’s never been on top before. Not like this. Her hand pressed flat against the bed at his side for leverage, and her body curves over his scarred back so she can continue stroking his cock, her hips gently rocking into his, pulling at her abdominal muscles in ways she has never experienced before. "Look at you," she murmurs into his skin, "Gorgeous. Look at how well you take your brother's cock." His head hangs low between his shoulders as she continues to talk, her hybrid lost in his head, his breaths coming in pants as she whispers filthy things into his ear and praises him for taking her toy so well. “You’re so tight, I wish I could feel you around me.” It must feel incredible, untouched every time—the feeling of being broken in again and again after years of being together. His body snapping back after being taken time after time. The exquisite agony of the first time for the thousandth time.
Her fingers continue to wind him tighter, strangling his engorged, weeping cock as she snaps her tiny hips against his form as hard as she can, but not as rough as he could. She feels how close he is to spilling himself across her fingers, his body mindlessly rocking back into her thrusts and changes her angle until her cock is roughly stroking his prostate, rapidly building his pleasure up to a crescendo. His hands have torn the sheets, leaving gouges in the mattress below and she curses her lack of fangs in this moment more than ever, and her smaller body. She wants to feel his flesh give way to fang and feel his blood gush down her throat.
She sinks her blunt teeth into his back and continues to pretend.
"Nnnghhh." The sound comes from deep in his chest as his body shudders beneath hers, his cock pulsing in the palm of her hand until he stops coming. She continues stroking him until he's spilled every last drop for her and she pulls her hand out, looking at the milky fluid spilled on her fingers. Something dark unravels from that place in her chest at the sight. "Tsk." She reaches up and threads her other hand in his curls, gently tugging his head up and thrusting her messy hand in front of his face. "Look at this mess, Klaus. Clean it up." There's a pause and she wonders if she has pushed him too far in these uncharted waters. If this is the moment he snaps out of it before she feels a soft, hesitant, kitten lick across the palm of her hand. And another. And another until he's licked up every last drop of his cum off her hand. The familiar rough drag of his tongue across her palm gives her another idea.
She pulls out of him with a squelch and watches in a brief moment of disappointment as his hole tightens back up, leaving almost no trace of her presence on in his body except for the mess of lubricant trickling out. Is this what he feels watching himself ejected. The frustration digs under her skin more and she roughly nudges him over until he's on his side and she is scrambling up next to his head, guiding her strap on to his carmine lips and pressing the tip against them with clear intent, “Clean up the mess you made."
His eyes are black, his pupils blown so wide that there is barely a ring of baby blue around them. It's intoxicating to look at. Seeing him this far gone into subspace. She is certain this demand will be too much until he leans forwards and wraps his deliciously bloody red lips around the clear cock, smeared with lube and his own body fluids from her fucking him and sucks it off. Sucks him off. Her breath catches at the sight. Her body is humming, and she reaches forward, grabs his curls with both hands, and thrusts forward until she hears him gagging, "I told you to clean all of it, Klaus."
It feels cruel, but she wants to be cruel to him. She wants to crawl under his skin like they have burrowed under hers. She wants to dig her fingers into his flesh and muscles, dig in until she can reach inside and pull out his ribs, snapping them one by one to make room for her to curl up inside. She will not remain on the outside of them forever.
“And what,” Elijah’s voice cuts in, “is this?” His form looms in the doorway as he watches them in bed.
“Open your mouth, Elena,” Elijah commands gently as she kneels at his feet and mouth falling open obligingly at the command, his brother still lounging in their bed, watching them with gold flecked eyes. She does as he asks. Always. Always as he asks. Anything to make him happy. To make them happy.
His long fingers thread themselves into her hair and pull her forward, he feeds his cock between her lips until it presses into her throat until she is gaging around him as he shushes her, his thumb stroking her rounded cheek. “You can take it, that’s a good girl. Relax and keep that in your mouth for me.”
She hates how calm it makes her feel to do as he asks, to relax her body around his invasion and kneel in supplication at his feet with her eyes watering and drool overflowing onto his pristine, untouchable clothes and making a mess. Every muscle in her body begins relaxing into this familiar position of submission, the familiar taste of Elijah on her tongue, the thoughts in her head become a slow, steady hum instead of a mad flutter of wings beating in the air and zipping back and forth.
Klaus’s chuckle echoes in the room from the bed behind her. She can feel his gaze lingering on her from where she sits on her knees before his brother swallowing his cock like a well trained whore. “Good girl, Elena. Breathe through your nose. Just like that.” Elijah instructs her as his hand strokes her hair in slow, soothing movements until she relaxes further into his body with each pass of his hand, a muffled moan escaping her mouth as she breathes in, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin and soap underneath the smell of sweat and sex and blood permeating the room, heat flooding her core with renewed desire.
The gentle tick, tick, tick of the clock the is the only sound marking the passing of time as she leans against his legs and resists the urge to swallow the mess her mouth is making, the saliva sliding down her chin. She doesn’t want to incur his disappointment at the feeling of her mouth swallowing around his cock. Her fingers dig into her thighs, resisting the urge to slide lower. Nothing can rush Elijah when he gets like this. She peaks up as best she can from her position without turning her head, gazing up through tear soaked lashes and feels ice spread inside her, dangerously close to shattering.
Elijah’s gaze is on Klaus. Always on Klaus. And she sinks again, letting her eyes flutter closed.
Later when Elijah finally fucks her mouth until he comes down her throat as his brother fills her from behind, she can still feel the way their gaze is trained on the other as they move in tandem inside her, filling her completely until she can pretend for a bittersweet moment that she is a part of them too. Waves of need rise and fall inside her with every movement, their gentle caresses becoming rough, harder movements as they each sought completion inside her. Klaus’s callouses fingers playing her center with practiced movements until she’s come so many times the pleasure and pain of it all blend together until she can’t differentiate where one begins and the other ends. She’s high on the praise and degradation she feels. She hates the need she has for them. The wanting that consumes her. The need to be with them after everything. Elena hates how much she loves them both.
Her monsters.
She belongs to them. She belongs to them, and they, they belong to each other.