TVD imagines/preferences

He's drunk

Stefan: Honestly, Stefan is usually very well-grounded. He rarely let's his guard down and has real fun- always 'too busy' trying to mother everyone and make sure nobody makes any stupid decisions.

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A lot had been happening lately, more pressure had been put onto his shoulders than usual, so once it had all blown over, he was more than happy to let you convince him to go out for the night.

It was nowhere special, just a couple of drinks at the grille. But those couple of drinks turned into almost three pitchers shared between the two of you. By the end of the night, Stefan was plastered drunk, and it was hysterical to see him stumbling around and mumbling incoherent stories while you both walked home.

You couldn't fully understand what he was trying to tell you as he was laughing too much in between words to be able to get it out right, but seeing him this carefree and happy was better than any drunken story he could have told you.

You swung the door open to the Salvatore house and kicked it closed behind you, ushering him over to the couch, where he plopped himself down and leaned his head back. Damon soon waltzed into the living room, glass of bourbon in hand, and a look of shock on his face as he saw his brother.

"Are you- drunk?" Damon asked in disbelief.

"I don't know mum, am I?" Stefan shot back with a sarcastic grin. You couldn't help but burst out into a fit of hysterics as Damon sauntered out of the room mumbling to himself.

Damon: Damon and alcohol was anything but a new combination. When Damon got drunk, there were a multitude of ways he would show it. One being angry outbursts which rarely occurred but almost always ended with him finding some poor helpless human at a bar to feed off of. Two being; taking on Stefan's brooding exterior and wallowing in his self pity, and three being dancing around the Salvatore boarding house without a care in the world. Bourbon was his poison, and this particular time, dancing was how he chose to go out.

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You got back from Bonnie's house to find the Salvatore mansion booming with music. As you opened the front door, you were immediately pelted with the strong smell of alcohol and the feeling of the music beating in your chest.

"Damon!" You called out over the music. Suddenly, he sped toward you, his glass still in his hand as he greeted you.

"y/n! I missed you." He smiled giddily. "Come, dance with me." He spoke, putting his glass down and taking you by the hand, walking over to the stereo.

"Oh my god, you're hammered." You laughed under your breath. Instantly, he had sped up to the second floor railing, thrusting his hips as he danced on the ledge. You giggled at his dance moves as he lifted his hand, pointing down to you, with a smirk playing on his lips, and then back to himself- signalling for you to join him.

"Dance with me." He spoke huskily, trying to put on his 'alluring' voice to entice you. Giggling at his giddy smirk, you smiled back, racing up to the balcony to join him.

Klaus: It was no secret that Niklaus drank. Human blood quenched his thirst and fulfilled his appetite, but there was no denying his love for a nice glass of scotch.

Usually just a glass at the end of the day satisfied him, but sometimes he just needed to let loose a little and treat himself.

Klaus was the very last type of drunk anyone would expect. The big, bad original hybrid? He must go on blood binges and bite the head off of anything that breathes, right? Wrong. Niklaus was the type of drunk that felt the need to constantly remind you, his love, just how much you meant to him.

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"y/n, my dear," He smiled, pausing to look at you, "my love." he sighed in awe. "Did you know that you are the best thing to have ever happened to me?"

Be it the alcohol that brought out his true compassion that he constantly hid for fear of being vulnerable, or just his emotions getting the better of him-when he was harmlessly drunk, he would realize how lucky he was to have someone like you, who loved him despite his past.

His words brought a smile to your lips as you took your jacket off by the front door- having just returned home to find him in the drunken state.

"Well over 1,000 years I have lived, y/n, and having you in my life is undoubtedly the peak of my existence." He slurred, a huge grin consuming his face as he gazed at you.

"You're pretty great too, Nik." You giggled jokingly, walking over to place a kiss on his cheek.

Elijah: Elijah Mikaelson; A man of his word. A kindhearted, strong, chivalrous gentleman. An original. And also the funniest, cutest drunk you had ever seen.

It was rare that Elijah drank, in fact, you had only seen him drink a couple of times in all of your years together, but never drunk. He held himself to a higher standard than that, thinking he had morals to uphold, and a family to represent and keep in line while in the public eye.

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The Mikaelson ball had rolled around, and Elijah was less tense than usual. Silas had been defeated, and all of his family were on reasonably good terms with one another for the time being. He had you by his side and for once, everything was okay.

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He'd had a little to drink throughout the night, but didn't even realize the effect the alcohol was having on him until the party had ended.

The night was spent with everyone gliding across the extravagant ballroom in the Mikaelson mansion, listening to the classic music as it flooded your ears, and watching all of the smiling guests arrive, one after one.

>>

All of the guests had left, leaving just yourself and the Mikaelsons to tend to the aftermath of the gala. Elijah sat leaning against the wall, his suit slightly disheveled, his tie hung looser than usual as he casually sipped from his glass.

"y/n, my darling." He beamed, greeting you with a warm embrace that caught you slightly by surprise, but you melted into it and relished in the gesture none the less.

"How're you going L'ijah?" You smiled knowingly, somewhat amused by his intoxication.

"Quite well." He beamed. "Except, I don't believe I have had the pleasure of dancing with you yet this evening." He grinned, placing his drink to the side as he took your hand, leading you both to the dance floor as you giggled at his enthusiasm.

"L'ijah, there's no music playing." You laughed.

"Who needs music when I have you." He mumbled, his lopsided smile still evident on his lips. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he rested his hand on the small of your back as his other hand laced itself with yours and started swaying, dancing in the silence as all but your stifled laughter echoed through the room.

He began humming a small tune happily as you glided somewhat messily across the floor, but neither of you cared. You were both happy- completely carefree, and you couldn't have asked for anything more.

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