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(Stefan Salvatore x Male Reader)
Context: Chicago in the 1920's was the time of fun laughter, chaos and excitement. Those were the feelings deep in Y/n when he ran into a Salvatore in the middle of a jazz club, not knowing that the events of that day would end them both tangle up in a web of lust rage and passion.
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"This drink tastes bitter and boring, just like the rest of these men in this club." I grimaced at the taste of the bitter shot flowing down my throat, slamming the shot glass back down onto the counter with a disgusted scoff leaving my mouth as I pushed the glass away from me.
Rebekah snorted under her breath as she crossed her leg over the other, her freshly painted nails tapped at the side of her wine glass when she looked at my disgusted expression.
"Has the men here bore you that much already brother?" She smirked teasingly, raising the glass up to her red-colored lips before she sipped on the wine then slowly set her glass down beside her.
My lips curled upwards in a tight lipped smile, an inaudible hum vibrating against my throat as I slowly tilt my head to the side so I could send her a knowing look. Raising one of my brows in a curious manner. "Wouldn't you agree dear sister?"
Rebekah only giggled under her breath in response, with a gentle nod, raising both of her brows softly with her lips faintly in a sweet smile.
"Completely." She replied softly, raising her glass up to her lips to take a sip of her drink whilst she looked at me through her lashes.
Laughing softly I shake my head at her agreeing comment, turning back to look over at the bartender as I very quickly snapped my fingers to get his attention. The handsome bartender strolls over to me with a white rag draped over his shoulder as he stops in front of me whilst pressing the palms of his hands onto the edge of the counter, peering down at me with his soulless dark brown eyes.
