#their salary? /j | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wholoveseggs · 2 months ago

Text

Stains {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} One lavish gala, one stunning dress, and one kiss you can’t take back...

♡♡ ♡♡

3.4k words - Warnings: slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, eventual smut (duh), masquerade ball, class dynamics (eat the rich or shoot them on the streets of new york or whatever), a dash of Niklaus, Elijah being a smug and possessive tease, a heated waltz, a stolen kiss, a slap (foreplay), and the undeniable tension of wanting someone you’re determined to hate...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your mask. It was a gorgeous thing, covered in silver filigree and small jewels. Your dress was just as stunning, a deep green satin that hugged your curves and showed off your figure.

You paid a small fortune for it, but it was worth it. You wanted to look stunning, to have Elijah completely enraptured. You wanted to see the desire in his eyes, and know that you were the cause of it.

Only to not give him what he wants, of course.

Besides, you planned on returning it after the gala, your outfit was worth more than a month's salary. It wasn't something you could afford to keep, but you couldn't deny that you looked incredible.

As the taxi pulled up, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead.

You were greeted at the door by a masked server who handed you a glass of champagne. You sipped it as you wandered through the crowd, taking in the lavish decorations and extravagant outfits.

The Mikaelson family compound was a building wrapped in history. It was breathtaking, a grand old home that was dripping in opulence. You looked up at the balconies, trying to imagine what it would have been like a hundred years ago.

You tried to find a familiar face, but there were too many people, and everyone was wearing masks. Your workplace barely adhered to business casual, so it was hard to recognize them in black tie.

You spotted Elijah at the far end of the room, talking to a group of guests. You watched him, your stomach fluttering. He was wearing a tailored tuxedo, and his mask was similar to yours, silver filigree with dark red jewels.

Your plan was to avoid him, but your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, leading you towards him. You could tell he was watching you out of the corner of his eye, his body angled slightly towards yours.

He politely excused himself from the conversation and turned towards you, a smirk on his lips.

"I wasn't sure if you would come," he said, his dark eyes roaming over you.

"I didn't really have a choice," you replied, lifting your champagne glass to your lips with deliberate ease. "This asshole I know threatened to take money from the hands of the most vulnerable people in society if I didn’t attend."

"He sounds terrible," he said, the smirk widening into a grin. "You are a vision, tonight. I'm surprised you could afford a gown of such quality, it must have been expensive."

"This old thing?" you teased, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off the fabric. You could feel heat creeping up your neck, not from embarrassment, but from how annoyingly pleased you were by the compliment. He noticed. He always noticed.

"Well, it looks exquisite on you," he complimented, his gaze raking over you once more.

You sipped your champagne, the liquid warming your veins. You felt more confident, and you leaned in closer to him. "So, is this what you do with all the money you extort? Host lavish parties for fellow scumbags?" you asked, arching a brow.

"Extortion is such an ugly word," he said, his tone lightly mocking.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. He was so damn cocky, and it was both annoying and alluring. You were about to say something scathing, but before you could, a handsome blonde man approached, his curly hair artfully tousled.

"(Y/N) I would like you to meet my brother, Niklaus," Elijah said, his expression friendly.

You extended your hand politely, but Niklaus ignored decorum and brought it to his lips with a playful smile. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, love," he said, his accent thick and undeniably British.

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the gesture, but quickly recovered. "Nice to meet you too," you replied, giving him a polite smile.

His gold and black mask complemented his sharp suit and athletic frame, and you couldn’t deny he was striking. But there was something about the way his eyes darted over you, assessing you like a piece of meat, that put you on edge.

"So, Elijah tells me that you work at the nonprofit," he began, his gaze focused on you.

"That's right," you said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Elijah does love a good charity case," Klaus said, his smirk cutting through his otherwise casual tone.

You felt the insult land, but you refused to let it show. Years of dealing with judgmental stares and dismissive comments had taught you one thing: don’t flinch. They only win if you flinch.

"Niklaus, please," Elijah interjected, his tone sharp with warning, but you didn’t need Elijah fighting your battles.

"Oh, that’s alright, Elijah," you said, giving Klaus your sweetest smile. "I bet neither of you could survive on the streets for a single night."

Klaus laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Is that so? Love, I think you underestimate me."

"No," you replied, your tone still sweet but edged with steel. "I know a pampered rich boy when I see one. A night without a hot shower and a six-course meal? You would wither and die."

Elijah’s lips twitched, as if he were suppressing a laugh, while Klaus simply stared at you, bemused. "You have some fire in you," Klaus said finally, his voice tinged with something like admiration.

"Yes, and she’s quite stubborn," Elijah added, his own voice softening with a note of respect you weren’t sure you believed.

"And she needs more champagne," you said, handing Elijah your empty glass with a flirtatious smile. The power play was deliberate, and the flicker of amusement in his eyes told you he knew it too. "See you later."

He inclined his head with a knowing smirk. "Enjoy yourself, darling,”

You walked off, heading to the bar and ordering another drink. You could see your boss groveling in front of a man, and the sight made you sick.

You watched as she simpered and fawned, her smile tight and forced. It was clear that the man was an important donor, and she was desperate to keep him happy. It was embarrassing, and it made your blood boil. These people were the indirect cause of all the inequality in society, and now you had to beg them for crumbs?

Your hand tightened around your glass, and you turned away, the frustration bubbling over. You didn't want to be here, and yet, it was your job. You looked around, taking in the opulent surroundings. The mansion was massive, and you wondered how many people could have been fed and housed with the amount of money that went into this stupid gala.

A string quartet started playing and a murmur went through the crowd. People began to pair up, moving to the center of the room for a waltz. You could see Elijah, his dark eyes searching the crowd, looking for someone. You knew he was looking for you, and the realization made your heart beat faster. When his eyes found yours, you couldn't help but feel a thrill run through your body. He smiled, extending his hand, beckoning you to join him. You took a long sip of your champagne, middle finger raised, and a playful smile on your lips. He smirked, amused and approached you, his movements smooth and graceful.

"Care to dance?" he asked, his voice low and intimate.

"You really are a piece of work," you said, unable to stop a small smile.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, grinning and offering his hand.

You sighed, placing your glass down and allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. His hands found your waist, guiding you into a waltz. You were surprised by how gracefully he moved, his body seeming to flow with the music.

"You're good at this," you murmured, letting him lead you.

"I'm good at a lot of things," he said, his gaze fixed on yours.

"Mhmm," you said, noncommittally.

He smirked, leaning in closer. "You're not so bad yourself," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

You could feel a blush spreading across your cheeks, and you fought the urge to push him away. Instead you dug your nails into his shoulder, hoping to get a reaction. He just smiled, seemingly amused by your attempts to provoke him.

"I like this dress you're wearing, green is a good color on you, it brings out your eyes," he murmured, his gaze drifting down to the plunging neckline. "It's funny, how you can afford such a luxurious garment, yet can’t pay your debts,"

"The dress just looks expensive, I got it at a thrift store," you lied, keeping your voice level.

"Oh really? And what brand makes such high-quality clothing for so little?" he asked, clearly not believing you.

"I have no idea," you said, shrugging.

He pulled you closer, his hands sliding lower, resting on the small of your back. Then he smoothly turned you, so that your back was pressed against his chest, his hands still gripping your hips. You could feel the heat of his body, the hard planes of his chest, and the scent of his cologne washed over you. It was a subtle, masculine scent, and it made your heart race.

He hummed softly, reaching up and checking the tag on the neck of the dress. His lips curving into a knowing smirk.

"Naughty little liar," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “You can't afford this brand,”

"Let go," you snapped, struggling against his hold.

He held onto you, his hands moving down to your waist, his lips brushing against your ear. "Why don't you make me?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

"Elijah," you growled, your nails digging into his forearms.

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "There's my fiery girl," he said, his tone playful.

You were about to respond when his lips pressed against your neck, the gentle touch making you gasp. He was such an ass, a stupidly sexy fucking ass. You could feel his smile against your skin, and his grip on you tightened. You tried to push him away, but he held onto you, his body flush against yours.

"Tell me, darling, what are your plans for this lovely dress?" he asked, his hands on your hips, keeping you close to him. "I know you can't afford to keep it,"

"None of your damn business," you retorted, squirming in his arms.

He laughed, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. "Do you plan on returning it? I bet the tag is still attached," he said, his tone smug.

"What's it to you?" you shot back, scowling.

He found the purchase tag tucked neatly under the strap, and pulled it free, swifty removing it.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, spinning around and glaring at him.

"Now, now, darling, don't worry, I'll pay you for it," he said, a smile on his lips.

"You will not," you argued, trying to snatch the tag from his hand.

He moved it out of your reach, and you struggled against him, but his grip was firm. You felt so utterly humiliated, and you knew your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

"Why not? You bought it to show off for me, didn't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I.. I didn't," you stammered, flustered by his question, you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay.

"Yes, you did. Don't try to deny it," he said, his tone teasing.

All of his taunting, all of his insufferable arrogance, how he constantly made fun of your financial situation, it was just too much, and the dam finally broke and tears welled up in your eyes.

He froze, and then released you, his expression suddenly concerned. You hurried away from him, tears streaming down your cheeks, and fled up the stairs, not caring where you were going. You heard him call after you, but you didn't stop.

You found yourself in a dimly lit hall, and you sank to the floor, hiding behind a pillar. The tears came hot and fast, and you buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle the sound.

It was the worst possible scenario. He managed to get under your skin, and make you cry. Your attempt to gain the upper hand had completely failed, he saw right through you. It made you furious, embarrassed, and hurt, and the combination was overwhelming.

You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt his presence before his voice broke the quiet.

“Miss (L/N),” Elijah said softly, his tone lacking its usual edge.

You froze but didn’t look up, unwilling to let him see the full extent of your tears. “Go away, Elijah,” you said, your voice trembling despite your effort to sound composed.

He ignored your words. Instead, you heard the faint rustle of fabric as he knelt beside you. “You’re upset,” he observed, his voice quieter now.

“No shit,” you muttered, swiping at your face angrily. “Congratulations. You’ve succeeded in humiliating me.”

There was a pause before he spoke again. “That wasn’t my intention.”

You laughed bitterly, finally looking up to glare at him through watery eyes. “Oh, really? What do you call it, then? Some twisted form of foreplay?”

Elijah didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, a pristine white square embroidered with his initials, and reached toward your face. You jerked back instinctively, but his touch was gentle as he dabbed at the tears on your cheek.

“Don’t,” you started, but the word faltered as his hand lingered, steady and unhurried. His thumb brushed against the corner of your eye, and the tenderness in the gesture disarmed you completely.

“There’s no shame in tears,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours. For the first time, there was no mocking glint in his eyes, only something deeper, something that unnerved you. “I’ve shed more than my share.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “I doubt that,” you said, your voice shaky.

He offered the faintest of smiles, something sad and fleeting. “You would be surprised.”

The moment stretched between you, and for a brief second, you wondered if you misjudged him. Then the memory of his smug smile, his teasing words, and his unchecked arrogance crashed back into focus. You pushed his hand away, your anger reigniting like a spark hitting dry tinder.

“Don’t act like you care,” you snapped, rising to your feet. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

Elijah stood too, his movements calm and measured. “And you know me?” he countered, his voice still maddeningly composed. “You see only what you want to see.”

“Spare me the psychoanalysis,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re rich, arrogant, and have no idea what it’s like to struggle. You think money can solve everything.”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his eyes. Something raw and unguarded.

“You think I’ve never struggled?” he asked, his voice low. “You think wealth erases the scars of a childhood spent fighting to survive?”

You stared at him, thrown by the sudden intensity in his tone. “What are you talking about?”

"My father used to beat Niklaus so badly that I was certain he would kill him," Elijah confessed, his expression distant. "I spend every night of my childhood fearing what the next day would bring,"

The revelation hit you like a punch in the gut. Suddenly, the pieces started to fall into place, his arrogance and need to control, to be in power. The vulnerability in his words was jarring, cutting through your defenses.

“I'm sorry that happened to you, but that doesn’t excuse the way you treat people,” you said, though your voice lacked its earlier fire.

“And what about you?” he asked, taking a step closer. “You wear your anger like armor, pushing away anyone who dares to get close. Why?”

His question hit too close to home, and your frustration boiled over. “You don’t know what it’s like to live with nothing,” you said, your voice rising. “To go hungry, to be invisible, to have people walk past you like you’re a piece of trash. I worked my way up from that. I clawed my way off the streets and out of hell. What have you ever done except step on people to climb higher? You take your pain and project it on others. It doesn't make you better than me. It makes you a coward."

"You are the one behaving like you are better than everyone else," Elijah countered, his tone sharpening. "You stand here in borrowed finery, masquerading as someone you’re not, pretending to be above it all. You think your anger and self-righteousness are somehow more noble, but they're not. They're just as toxic as my own,"

Your breath hitched at the accusation, your anger rising like a tidal wave to meet his. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, but I do,” he said, his voice soft and cutting all at once. “You’re terrified someone might see the cracks, the pieces you’ve worked so hard to put back together. And that dress you’re so eager to return? It’s just another lie you’re telling yourself.”

That was it. That was the last straw.

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand flew up and connected with his cheek in a sharp, satisfying crack. The sound echoed in the quiet hall, and you felt the sting in your palm almost instantly.

Elijah didn’t flinch. Not even a little. Instead, he turned his head slowly back toward you, his eyes dark and dangerous, his lips curving into the faintest of smirks.

“There it is,” he murmured, his voice like silk, low and taunting. “That fire I adore.”

You took a step back, your chest heaving with anger. “You’re such an ass-”

But your words were cut off as he moved, closing the space between you in one fluid motion. His hand cupped the back of your neck, firm but not unkind, and his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was everything. Hot, furious, consuming. It was a battle, a clash of wills, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Then something inside you snapped, and you kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands fisting in the fabric of his tuxedo.

Elijah’s other hand found your waist, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him as if he couldn’t bear for there to be even an inch of space between you. You could feel his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours; pounding in your ears as the world around you melted away.

But then you felt it, a moment of stillness in his movements, so fleeting you almost missed it. His hand, which had been so sure and commanding, softened its grip against your neck. He exhaled against your lips, a quiet, unsteady breath that betrayed something deeper beneath the surface. Hesitation. Vulnerability. Like even he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

When you finally pulled back, your breath came in ragged gasps, and your lips tingled from the force of the kiss. Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded but burning with unmistakable desire.

"Fuck you," you breathed, the words holding no real malice.

"I would very much like that," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

Your cheeks were flushed, and your pulse was racing, the anger and resentment still simmering in your veins. You shoved at his chest, trying to ignore the way your hands still trembled from the intensity of the moment.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” you said, your voice shaking with anger, frustration, and something you didn’t want to name.

“Of course not,” he said smoothly, adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. But there was a glint in his eyes, a spark of triumph that made your blood boil. “But it’s a start.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. Turning on your heel, you stormed away, leaving him standing there with that insufferable smirk on his face. But even as you rejoined the crowd below, your lips still tingled, and your heart still raced. You could still taste him on your lips, a heady mix of champagne and sin.

And you hated yourself for wanting more.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #elijah mikealson smut

150 notes · View notes