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thegalleonsnest · 3 months ago

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OK since I haven't seen too many people talk about this since twitter news usually strikes pretty fast over here whenever e'usk does anything ever, let me give ya'll the run down on two things that will go live on NOVEMBER 15TH and why people are mass migrating to Blue Sky once more; and provide resources to help protect your art and make the transition to Blue Sky easier if you so choose:

The Block function no longer blocks people as intended. It now basically acts as a glorified Mute button. Even when you block someone, they can still see your posts, but they can't engage in them. If your account is a Public one and not a Private one, people you blocked will see your posts.

They say because people can easily "share and hide harmful or private information about those they've blocked," they changed it this way for "greater transparency." When in reality, this is an extremely dangerous change, as the whole point of blocking is to cease interaction with people entirely for a plethora of reasons, i.e. stalking, harassment, spam, endangerment, or just plainly annoying and not wanting to see said tweets/accounts. or you know, for 18+ accounts who do not want minors interacting with them or their material at all (There is speculation saying these changes are specifically for Elon himself so he can do his own kind of stalking, and honestly, with the private likes change, it lowkey checks out in my opinion)

Also, this straight up goes against and may violate Apple and Google's app store policies and also is straight up illegal in Canada and probably other countries as well.

If this ACTUALLY goes through, twitter will only be available in select countries, probably exclusively in the US, which would collapse the site with the lost of users and stock, and probably be the last push it needs to kill the site. And if not, will be a very sad and exclusive platform made for specific kinds of people who line up with musk's line of thinking.

2. New policies regarding Grok AI and basically removing the option to opt out of Grok's information gathering to improve their software.

And anything you upload/post on the site is considered "fair game" with "royalty-free licenses" and they can do whatever they please with it. Primarily using any and all posts on twitter to train their Grok AI. A few months ago, there was a setting you can opt out of so they couldn't take anything you post to "improve" Grok, but I guess because so many people were opting out, they decided to make it mandatory as part of the policy change (This is mainly speculation from what I hear).

So this is considered the final straw for a LOT of people, especially artists who have been gripping on to twitter for as long as they can, but the AI nonsense is too much for people now, including myself. Lot's of people are moving to Blue Sky for good reason, and from personal experience, it is literally 10x better than twitter ever was, even before elon took over. There is no algorithm on there, and you can save "feeds" to your timeline to have a catered timelines to hop between if your looking for something specific like furry art or game dev stuff. It's taken them a bit to get off the ground and add much needed features, but it's genuinely so much better now

RESOURCES

Project Glaze & Cara

If you're an artist who's still on twitter or trying to ride it out for as long as you can for whatever reason you have, do yourself a favor and Glaze and/or Nightshade your work. Project Glaze is a free program designed to protect your art work from getting scrapped by AI machines. Glazing basically makes it harder to adapt and copy artwork that AI programs try to scan, while Nightshade basically "poisons" works to make AI libraries much more unstable and generate images completely off the mark. (These are layman's terms I'm using here, but follow the link to get more information)

The only problem with these programs is that they can be resource intensive for computers, and not every pc can run glaze. It's basically like rendering a frame/animation, you gotta let your pc sit there to get it glazed/nightshade, and depending on the intensity and power of your pc, this may take minutes to hours depending on how much you wanna protect your work.

HOWEVER, there are two alternatives, WebGlaze and Cara

WebGlaze is an in browser version of the program, so your pc doesn't have to do the heavy lifting. You do need to have an account with Glaze and be invited to use the program (I have not done so personally so I don't know much about the process.)

Cara is an artist focused site that doubles as both a portfolio site and a general social media platform. They've partnered with Glaze and have their own browser glazing called "Cara Glaze," and highly encourage users to post their work Glazed and are extremely anti-ai. You do get limited uses per day to glaze your work, so if you plan on doing a huge backlog uploading of your art, it may take awhile if your using just Cara Glaze.

Some twitter users have suggested glazing your art, cropping it, and overlaying it with a frame telling people to follow them elsewhere like on Bluesky. Here's a template someone provided if you wanna use this one or make your own.

Blue Sky Resources and Tips

So if your a twitter user and your about to realize the hellish task of refollowing a massive chunk of people you follow, have no fear, there's an extension called Sky Follower Bridge (Firefox & Chrome links). This is a very basic extension that makes it really easy to find people on Bluesky

It sorts them out by trying to find matching usernames, usernames in descriptions, or by screen name. It's not 100% perfect, there's a couple people I already follow on Blue Sky but the extension could not find them on twitter correctly, but I still found a huge chunk of people. Also if your worried that this extension is "iffy," they do have a github open with the source publicly available and the Blue Sky Team themselves have promoted the extension in their recent posts while welcoming new users to the platform.

FEEDS and LABELS

OK SO THE COOLEST PART ABOUT BLUESKY IS THE FEEDS SYSTEM. Basically if you've made a twitter list before, it's like that, but way more customizable and caters to specific types of posts/topics. Consolidating them into a timeline/feed that exclusively filled about those particular topics, or just people in general. There's thousands to pick and choose from!

Here's a couple of mine that I have saved and ready (down below). Some feeds I have saved so I can jump to seeing what my friends and mutuals are up to, and see their posts specifically so it doesn't get lost in reposts or other accounts, and also specialized feeds for browsing artists within the furry community.

The Furry Community feeds I have here were created by people who've built an algorithm to place any #furry or #furryart or other special tags like #Furrystreamer or #furrydev. They even have one for commissions, and yes you can say commissions on a post and not have it destroyed or shadow banned. You are safe.

If you want, and I highly recommend it to get visibility and check out a neat community, follow furryli.st to get added to their list and feeds. Once your on the list, even without a hashtag, you'll still pop up in their specialized feeds as just a member of the community there. There are plenty of other feeds out there besides this one, but I feel like a lot of people could use one like this. They even got ones for OC specific too I remember seeing somewhere.

And in terms of labels, they can be either ways to help label yourself with specific things or have user created accessibility settings to help better control your experience on Blue Sky.

And my personal favorite: Ai Imagery Labeler. Removes any AI stuff or hides it to the best of it's abilities, and it does a pretty good job, I have not seen anything AI related since subscribing to it.

Finally, HASHTAGS WORK & No need to censor yourself!

This is NOT like twitter or any other big named social media site AT ALL, so you don't have to work around words to get your stuff out there and be seen. There are literally feeds built around having commissions getting and art seen! Some people worry about bots and that has been a recent issue since a lot of people are migrating to Blue Sky, but it comes with any social media territory.

ALSO COOL PART,

you can search a hashtag on someone's profile and search exclusively on that profile as well! You can even put the hashtag in bio for easy access if you have a specialize tag like here on tumblr. OR EVEN BUILD YOUR OWN ART FEED FOR YOUR STUFF SPECIFICALLY!

So yeah, there's your quick run down about twitter's current burning building, how to protect your art, and what to do when you move to Blue Sky! Have fun!

#Twitter #Blue Sky #BlueSky #Cara #Project Glaze #Glazed Art #NightShade #Twitter Update #cara artists #art resource #resource #Online resource

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maryland-no-rabies · 4 months ago

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Tumblr (for newbies):

Reblogging ≠ reposting. You aren't stealing content by reblogging it, it's basically a 'group share' button. It also helps give artists/posts attention and you can reblog to interact with people. Reblog things you like.

Reblog bait. You can reblog it, but if a mutual hates reblog bait, you may tag it with 'reblog bait'. Or, find a tag with your mutual to put on posts they don't like, and block the tag under the 'content you see' tab in settings.

If someone reblogs your post, and you like their reblog, you just liked your own post.

(Sideblog section)

See my name? This is a gimmick. If a Tumblr says 'officially-(company/country/state)' then it's probably a gimmick! Check their content first because there are a few actual brand blogs, like Grammarly!

You can only make 250 posts (per email) on an account per day. This is called 'post limit' or 'PL'. I am currently on account 2, because I post too much. You may or may not hit post limit in your lifetime.

You can create as many sideblogs as you want, but you cannot like, follow, or send asks as a sideblog, and if you do so, it'll show up as from your main.

(Gimmicks)

Nobody can see your main from your sideblog, so you can have as many followers on your gimmick and none of them on your main

You will see gimmicks. A lot. It's fun.

You can interact with a gimmick as a non-gimmick

As a tumblr user, you have anon powers. You can turn any/most gimmicks into a pretty princess by typing something like '*turns you into a pretty princess*' into their ask box.

Nobody will be mad at you for making a gimmick. At all. There are like, 4 Jesus gimmicks. And it's great.

(General)

Tag a mutuals post with '10k to me', 'future 10k', '10k', or 'this will have 10k' for some fun chaos :3

Submit posts to PM Seymour's discord for MORE fun chaos

(General controls and understanding of Tumblr)

If you are in a youtube video online, you have broken containment

If you are getting a bunch of notifications from a post, you can hold down a notification from it or click the three dots on the post and click 'mute' to stop getting notifications (other than mentions)

You can also filter your notifications by clicking on the top left of your notifications tab and tapping 'custom'

The 'for you' tab of Tumblr is what the algorithm thinks you'll like based on your interests and stuff

The 'following' tab is blogs and tags you follow

On Tumblr, you can add not only extra notes in the tags but also regular tags. Spaces are allowed

If you get an ask from a Palestinian blogger, check yourself (you may find places where it's vetted/verified in their reblogs. You can also tell by them having no photos/story at all [no name, no information, just a donate link], and scams commonly use photos from Google images. Be suspicious if there's anything other than GoFundMe or something similar. PayPal is banned there.) or send a screenshot to me/somebody who offered to help. Then, you can answer the ask so people who can donate can see it, or donate yourself. DO. NOT. PRESSURE. YOURSELF.

Tumblr has a unique punctuation, in a way. which you will figure out on your own. An example is. periods to show a slight. pause

It reminds me of poetry

You can post whatever you want and you will find your people

Block people who make you uncomfortable and report bots for spam.

Welcome to Tumblr

Do what you want forever

#ask for more detail about a point if needed #or wanted #im summarizing here #and other questions #have fun tumblring!!

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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Funny Gaming moments with Lando and Max (F) x QuadrantStreamer! Reader

Plot: Just funny moments where Reader is a member of Quadrant and is a big UK streamer that does everything on Twitch and YouTube.

A/N: this is only small and just for fun, better Lando stuff is coming out.

Moment 1:

"Do you earn more than Lando Norris, chat you guys are wild ... but honestly with my individual sponsors, YouTube and streaming and any of my weird side activities I think it'd be up for debate" you giggle not actually knowing how much difference there was in what you or Lando earned.

"Not girlie casually admitting that with her side hustle she earns as much as an F1 driver, yeah guys, you gotta think I stream and upload full time. So i get paid for each YouTube video I do, I'm a twitch affiliate and you guys are so so generous. I game competitively and earn from that. I have sponsors, so ... lets just say i had no trouble buying Lando's Christmas presents" you grin, knowing the man had widely expensive taste.

"Who am i spending Christmas with, well Lando's family has asked if I'd like to join them, but I'll be spending the holidays mostly with Max and Pietra. Oh my gosh guys, did you see Instagram? I met Martin Garrix! How cool is that!" you laugh.

Moment 2:

"So I'm here today with Lando, and I'm teaching him Valorant, he knows that I'm in good but I don't think he knows I'm Immortal" you say until you unmute yourself in discord.

"Hey Lando baby" you joke but all you get from the otherside is silence which makes your chat go absolutely crazy.

You hear a few coughs that sound like choking, so you check his stream making sure not to tab out on stream, seeing him sat there in shock in his chair blushing.

"Lando?" you ask, and you watch as he rearranges himself in his chair pulling the mic closer to him.

"Hi, hello yes. Sorry you just threw me off guard" he laughs, wiping across his face with his fingers.

"What are we?" he asks, and you burst out laughing at the question which makes him laugh too. Chat on both ends starts going crazy, with the spam of Lando Norizz <<< Y/N the Rizzler and you were both dying.

Moment 3:

"Argghh fuck" you scream leaning back and fulling falling back off your chair. You were currently playing the horror game ' In Silence with Max, Lando and Ria.

"No way did Y/N just fall?" Max asks laughing at the girl whose stream he pulled up seeing her laying on the floor gripping her shoulder while her chair was now also laying in the floor.

"SHE DID" Lando laughs and you groan out in embarrassment.

Moment 4:

"What was that chat? My door reopened and closed shut while I was gone?" you ask looking back at your door. You knew you were home alone, the only people having a key to your apartment being Max and Pietra and Lando. But they were all travelling right now and were on the plane.

"Chat, stop messing with me" you scold jokingly, you start to load up the game your changing too. However a knock at your bedroom door has you stilling.

"What" you mouth looking at the camera. You go to the door, chat spamming saying how by opening the door that how all the dumb movie characters die. You here another knock making you flinch, you rip open the door, screaming when you see the scary mask, jumping and tacking the person now.

"Ow Y/N fuck" you hear and you rip the mask of, knowing that voice but not wanting to assume.

"Lando?" you ask looking at him.

"I thought it would be funny" he jokes laughing.

Moment 4:

"So Lando, Max and I thought it would be funny to play Valorant but for every kill we get we do a shot" you exclaim.

"Y/N gonna need new kidneys by the end of this? Hmmm very true, maybe we change it to every time we die we do a shot?" you ask seeing what chat's opinion would be on that.

"Then Lando and Max will be needing new kidneys? Well, I'm playing on my alt account and I'm just chilling so we'll be in gold/silver lobbies. Last time we played on my normal account, it was a struggle.

"Lets ask what they prefer! Guys? You want to do shots every time we get a kill or when we die?" you ask after unmuting yourself.

"We playing with MILF account of FnaticY/N?" Lando asks.

"MILF of course. And no comps, I'm not being called a booster" you grin and Max groans, Max was gold 2 and was asking for you to coach him, you had watched him in unrated's but refused to do comps together.

"Wait, when did you change your name...didnt it used to be Ilovetits6?" Max laughs.

"Yes, but chat started to call me mother? So i just rolled with it" you grin looking at chat and winking.

Moment 5:

"Are you and Lando Norris dating?" you ask, and then you open your phone and call Lando himself.

"Hey baby!" you smile and show the chat what Lando is saved as and the picture while he's on speakerphone.

"Hey love. I'm a little late coming back. I got stuck here with Zac and Oscar, but Max and P wanted to know if you would like to go out for dinner with them tonight" he asks and you laugh.

"Wait, Y/N are you live"

"Maybe, look you said you were ready to go public. So this is payback for what you did to Max on stream!" you laugh, knowing he wont be mad at you, as you'd talked recently about going public.

"Exposed? Yes yes i did" you grin.

Moment 6:

"Y/N your boyfriend is horny come sort him out" AngryGinge says adding you to the call forcefully mid stream.

"Mmmm that sounds like a job for you" you says seriously and you pull up his and Lando's stream to watch what was going on. Some people had come into your stream to say to get Lando to end the stream before PR has his head.

"He's been moaning on stream Y/N get your man and take him home"

"Yeah sorry let me just hop on the jet to Monaco..." you joke, knowing you definitely don't have a private jet.

"Wait, just how rich are you? Your boyfriends out here buying watches for 400k, you have a private jet. This just ain't right!" he exclaims making you laugh.

"I don't have a private jet. But... I've been in one of Max Verstappen's" you boast, you'd been introduced to him through Lando as Kelly wanted to meet you and set you up with her modelling agency.

"Huh? WHAT?" he screams and you just laugh before leaving the call. You shoot Lando a teasing message watching his eyes change as he reads it, and he lets out a groan that soon turns into a joke as Angry Ginge yelled at him to calm down again.

Moment 7:

"Salem stop" you tell your cat, which had jumped up and starting to paw in your lap where the blanket lay across before flopping down wanting fuss.

She started to meow at you not getting the wanted attention, but you were in the middle of an important rank up game, that would put you as radiant in Valorant.

As the game went on, you apologized to your teammates when you died after nearly clutching a round when Salem distracted you by pawing at your hand on your mouse.

"Salem please bub. 3 more rounds and you can have all the cuddles in the world" you whisper to the cat before she settles down, you proceed to Ace the next round and your team and you win the next two. The end of the game, with the MVP you get promoted to Radiant #497.

You celebrated by grabbing Salem your black Bombay cat and hugging her tightly, she leans into you wrapping her paws around happy for the affection she's finally getting.

"Treat?" you ask receiving a meow.

Chat:

y/nloverrr02- not y/n celebrating like she just got a podium

landonorizz- what's harder, f1 win, or reaching the top 500 valorant players

wedonttalkabouther- please, mother is mothering!

deadlocknerf- not her top fragging as an omen and their jett with a negative kda.

lockandassit- well done on the promo!

LandoNorris- Babe! Well done! I watched your win! I'm so proud

"Thank you, everybody. I think I'll leave it there for the day and I'll come back and we can try and get into the 450's!" you exclaim before cutting stream.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #max fewtrell #max fewtrell x reader

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pinkslaystation · 6 months ago

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No longer a memory [Simon 'Ghost' Riley]

You are reading: [Part 2] Read [Part 1] here! Word Count: 1.4k You viewed Simon as your friend, but clearly he did feel the same.

When Ghost was asked about his emergency contact, he mentioned Soap's name.

"You can't put down another soldier, mate. Gotta be yer ma or summit." His higher-ups informed him.

"Why no'?" He grumbled, leaning against the wall in the dingy office.

"Wot if you're on a mission with 'im? Wot if he's injured too? Hm? Just do me a favour and put down yer missus, will ya."

Ghost rolled his eyes in annoyance, slamming the door shut as he walked out. With an important mission coming soon, it was vital that everything was in order before they left.

He just doesn't get it. Why does a skilled killer like him need an emergency contact? He's only been fatally injured once, and when they contacted his previous emergency number back then, was it really a big deal with someone at the nearest Maccies picked up?

Gaz frequently laughs at him, "Tried to call your mother, ordered a quarter pounder instead." It's a running joke in the team.

Ghost skims through his phone contacts, and he's embarrassed to see how few numbers he has: 5 being his teammates including Gaz, Soap and Price, one being KFC, one being his mother which he had saved under Slag. He scrolls up and down rapidly, debating to himself, should he just give them a fake number?

No...they'd find out again.

He clicks under the spam numbers.

His eyes shift to a familiar number.

It was yours.

The monotonous ticking of the clock paired with the irregular typing of the keyboards were burnt into your brain unknowingly. You've lost count of the number of days you've been in the menial job now, your first job since graduating university. How long have you been with that company, 2 years? 602 days now? You're counting the days 'til the weekend but even during that, you've got no one to come home to.

What a pathetic life.

Sometimes you wonder what Simon was doing in that exact moment was he working like you? Was he also in London? Did he...think of you, the way you think of him? It's possible he's forgotten, I mean after 5 years you've lost contact with the majority of your classmates- so much for best friends for life.

You check your phone, 9:28 P.M. 2 more minutes and you're running out of there.

By the time it hits 11 P.M., you're tucked away in bed a movie playing the background as you're aimlessly listening to reddit stories on TikTok whilst watching a minecraft speedrun.

You switch to using Instagram, by that I mean stalking. Your friends seems to be growth further away from you, one sending you an e-invite to their wedding, one welcoming their 1st child into their families, and yet you're still hung over about the last day of secondary school. The way the last time you had seen him had been in form, when he glances at you walking in late. The way his hands would purposely linger against yours when you were asked to hand out sheets to the class.

The mere thought of him jolted you. That, and the sound of your phone ringing.

It was an unknown number.

There's a hitch in your breathing. Was this a sign? What's the phrase, speak of the devil and he has appear? Was it perhaps...Simon?

You wait for a minute before picking up, not wanting to come across as desperate.

"...Hello?" You murmur.

"Hey." The voice is harsh and cold. It reminded you of Simon.

"Simon?" You whisper, a smile appearing on your face.

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"What? No- Alan. From Accounting. You left some documents here at work, they seem important. You gonna pick 'em up?"

You blink. Once again your're stuck in another fantasy. In what world would it be Simon? The man who couldn't even reply to your texts in summer holidays. The man who wouldn't even attempt to return a full smile when you locked eyes in the corridor. The man you shouldn't have feelings for. Because, well, it's not like they were ever reciprocated.

What a pathetic life.

Alan, the dickhead from Accounting interrupts yet again. "Yo, you there? Wan' me to bin them?"

You sit up in your bed, sighing deeply uncomfortable, "Pull up your pants man, I'll be there in 30, Jesus. Just leave them on my desk."

Question. What's short but intense, most people dislike it, but you find it thrilling? One would think a conversation with Simon. But the answer is: London traffic.

You'd assume the usually busy roads to be dead and empty at 11:30 P.M. ish, but you're heavily mistaken, my friend. Seems like London nights are the life of the party. Driving past busy clubs and lit up pubs, whilst listening to One Of The Girls by The Weeknd [SUCH A GOOD SONG-] made you feel like a movie star in a coming of age film.

One where the guy gets the girl.

Of course, the majority of the drive you've being beeped at, or you're doing the beeping, but it's what really appealed to you when making the move to the heart of London. Life moves on whether you want or not, might at well be at the capital of England. Though sometimes you feel you're more likely to run into Simon in the north...

By the time you reach the entrance of your workplace, you begin regretting your outfit decisions, making eye contact with yourself in the reflection of the glass doors: A black hoodie and flared joggers. Nothing wrong in the clothing of course, but compared to the Data Analysts and Investment Bankers that are judging you right now, it makes you feel like the smallest person in the room.

Just a elevator ride up, grabbing your shit, another ride down, brisk walking to the car, and you can go back to the comfort of your bed. Easy, no?

You're in the elevator finally. The weird look from the receptionist really was the cherry on the cake.

Soon enough, the doors open again at the 9th floor, and you're met with the dark room of your department, which only had 2 of your colleagues slaving away at their desks, one which you're 99% sure is rotting away as they type on their keyboard.

You briefly nod at the two as they look up from the elevator doors opening, to which they returned.

Where's that file, where's the fucking file. You mumble to yourself, sifting through all the papers from your desk. The rotting lady looks up to you, shushing you for the noise.

Yeah, if only you had the courage to shush your toxic-ass husband...You think. Soon we'll hear your reddit story next to some trashy ass run on Subway Surfers on Tiktok...

The way down the elevator was excruciatingly slow, which was odd considering it was working perfectly fine 5 minutes ago.

The doors open again, at the 8th floor and 3 analysts walk into the once quiet elevator, and now you're face to face with the loud chatter of clients, and business meetings and...who left a mess in the men's toilets...

A phone rings again, and the analysts all search their coats, thinking it was theirs.

Not me.

Neither.

How is there service in this elavator-

Someone coughs, and you open your eyes from drowsiness, the 3 business musketeers silently urging you to pick up your from and rid them off that irritating ring tone.

Silently apologising, you bring your phone out of your hoodie pocket. It's another unknown number.

With no hesitation this time, just pure frustration and fatigue, you pick up the call, "Alan, I swear to God, if you're calling me again-"

Correction. There is service in the elevator. It just wasn't good.

The line breaks at the other person on the phone speaks.

"He- Co- It's an emergen- He- -mon Ril- -jury-"

"Huh?" You respond, partially not hearing as the line breaks every now and then. but also because the other 3 people decided it was okay to talk on full volume.

You try once again, "I'm sorry I can't hear you."

"Missi- crash- 3 dead- -husba"

You snort, you wish these 3 analysts were dead right now-

"-Rile- Come- t- -ocation- sen- -by text- -sband-"

The line goes dead, and you're stuck staring at your phone with more confusion than you had started. Husband?

What was that? Wrong number? No, they had addressed you by your full name. You couldn't hear much, but from what you gathered...an emergency? I mean, that alone you could tell from the shrill from the speaker's voice.

The elevator door opens again and this time, it's the ground floor and all 4 of you walk out. It looks like the scene where the rich, popular characters make a grand entrance, straight out of a K-drama, except one person clearly missed the memo about dressing formally.

You check your phone's call log, debating whether to call them back.

Before you can lock your phone and shove it back into your phone, it dings again, a text from the very number. They've given you a location. A quick search on your phone, shows you google images of an army training ground. You check the time. It's just past midnight.

Looks like you're going on an adventure.

The drive to the army grounds was shorter than Google Maps had said, and now you're parked on the side of the roads waiting for the gates to be opened.

Theories are racing through your head right now, who do you know that's in the military currently?

Your coworkers? No.

Your university friends? No.

Your secondary school classmates? No.

Simon? Can't be.

The gates open, and you drive to the 2 men standing by the doors to the building, one is dressed like a doctor, the other? Like Stalin.

You get out of your car worried, "Hi, someone called over the phone?"

"Aah, yes. Mrs Riley. A pleasure to meet you. I mean I didn't think you were even going to come." He turns to the doctor.

You don't fail to hear the words exchanged between the both of them.

"What if she works at Maccies as well...she's dressed like it-" he murmurs, smiling at you widely.

The doctor on the other hand, seems to be more tense about the situation, "Sir, can we just send her in already, it's 1 A.M., I got a family to go home to-"

"Wasn't your wife cheating on you though-"

"Sir- How do you know- Okay, Miss. Mrs... Riley, was it?" The doctor turns to you.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "No. Um, no. My first name's not Riley, it's-"

"Will you just follow us. Please."

The inside of the building was almost the opposite than the outside, a loud brightly lit environment with crowds of doctors and nurses rushing around, compared to the silent dark grounds.

"Sorry, where are we going exactly?" You question, as the two men walk in front of you.

"You're handling the news better than I expected, Riley." The military leader (?) notes.

What news?

"What news?"

There's no follow up answer, instead they lead you to a quiet corridor, just outside a room, to which they gesture you to open. The doctor reads from a file, "He's going to be fine, just a few cuts and bruises-"

You interrupt, "I'm sorry?"

"What he's trying to say- we found him unconscious, seems like he inhaled too much of the gas. Thought he was in grave danger. Wasn't responding to anything. Broken rib cage, but he'll be fine. He always is, this man."

The doctor agrees with the solider.

"Indeed, a few months of bed rest, and he's be back in better shape."

The two stare at you, as you look at them with an unreadable expression.

"...And...I'm here because?"

They share a confused look.

"You're his wife, no? His emergency contact? That's what Simon said at le-"

"Si-Si-Simon?"

One second you're at home, the next you're a work again, and now you're in the bathroom with your head in your hands, sitting on the toilet lid, panic pulsating through your blood. For some reason, you can't find it in yourself to tell the truth, that you're not Simon's wife, so instead you pussied out and excused yourself to the nearest bathroom.

The good thing is, the 2 men believe you're crying over Simon's injuries, the bad thing is that he's awake. And he's been made aware of the call to his emergency contact: his wife.

"Good to say you mate. Called your wife. Sensitive one, that. Rushed-"

Simon breaks out of his dazed look. "Wife?" He barks.

The doctor shares a knowingly glance to the solider, Simon's higher up. "Yes...the one under your emergency contact?"

"Wot- Oh. Er- Yeah." Simon clenches his jaw, rubbing his temple, "Did she pick up or sum-"

"No Simon, she's here. In the bathroom."

The minimal colour in Simon's pale bruised face drains out in a click, and he's staring dead straight in front of him. For a second, no one talks, there's no movement, not even a breath is exhaled. Simon's not religious but he prays the 2 can't hear his beating heart thumping rapidly.

How was do when he sees you? A smile? A wave? A 'haven't seen you in so long'? No...he selected spouse when he put your number down for his emergency contact, if anything, he's got a role to act in front of the staff and higher-ups.

There's a knock on the door that breaks the silence. The door creaks open awkwardly, and a small head peeps out.

Simon's breath hitches.

When your parents instructed you to get out fairy land, you did. You were called delusion by your friends throughout adolescence, and you're teachers feared your expectations in life were always too high.

You remember the first time your parents told you the story of how they met. In your mind it was a romantic story, two doctors meeting together for the first time in the hospital, locking eyes and blushing furiously when their fingers touched through gloved during a high-risk heart transplant surgery. So when they mentioned that it was mere 'marriage of convenience' type relationship to you, your belief of love at first sight hit the iceberg of reality and sunk. Sunk deep.

So mustering the courage shouldn't be that difficult, right? Love doesn't exist...

The first step into the hospital room felt like walking into every exam hall you've ever entered in your entire life merged into 1...times 10. Nerve-wracking was an understatement.

Your goal was to just lie and act at his wife, play pretend and hope Simon plays along with it. It's all acting.

A marriage of convenience, you could say.

"Hey, Si-"

Your breath breaks, cutting off your own words as your eyes lock with Simon's. The room seems to shrink, and the bustling noise from the hospital corridor fades into the background. Simon's gaze is intense, his usual stoic expression softening for a brief moment. It's something the doctor and the soldier haven't seen, given the 5 years of knowing SImon.

He reaches an arm out, without speaking a word.

"Oh, erm." Taking his hand, he gently drags you, motioning you to sit on the chair beside his bed. Small electric shocks course through his fingertips and into yours, a warm feeling bubbling through your chest, and you can't help but smile at the way his eyes lock onto you, as his fingers gently caress your hand.

Simon’s grip tightens ever so slightly as you sit down, his touch simultaneously reassuring and questioning. You swallow hard, nerves prickling your skin. It feels like a minute has passes by the 2 spectators in the room feel like their watching a slow-burn romance movie.

The soldier clears his throat, breaking the silence. "We’ll give you two some privacy," he says, gesturing for the doctor to follow him out. As the door clicks shut behind them, the heavy silence continues to fall over the room.

Simon’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, a gesture that feels both foreign and familiar. His mask of stoicism cracks, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath. "I didn’t think you’d come," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. Your heart rate increases with every word he speaks, the hints of his northern accent peaking through the harshness of his voice.

You smile. "Well, here I am," you reply, attempting to sound casual despite the thundering of your heart. "Guess I couldn't ignore the call of duty." Your attempt of a pathetic joke makes him grin.

Simon interlocks his fingers with yours, and you swear your body changes to manual breathing. "SImon...You don't have to act, they're not here..." You mumble.

Simon chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually so guarded, now seem to search yours for something unspoken. "I'm not acting... and...I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What for?" Both of your hands gently hold Simon's and you notice the way just one of his hands dwarf both of yours.

"That day...the last day. I tried to come, I swear, love. I was late-"

"I waited for you Simon." You blankly state. Simon freezes at the slight frustration in your voice, "I waited so long for you, hell, the teachers nearly kicked me out."

Simon nodding understandably, grinning slightly at the thought.

"I know. I asked our form tutor, missed ya by 15 minut-"

"Then why didn't you call me Simon? Hm?"

The lack of response let's you continue, the heat from your hands warming Simon's.

"I called you, I texted, I reached out to your friends-"

"-but it's difficult when I had none, right?" Simon cuts you off, his eyes urging you to look at the situation from his perspective, "The moment I saw you in that classroom on that first day, you were the only person that smiled at me. When I forgot my lunch, it was you that shared with me by your desks. Fuck, it's always been you, and I was too fucking embarrassed with myself to even be around someone as perfect as you."

Simon squeezes your hand as he continues.

"I didn't want you to be seen with me, because...you deserved better, love. You've always had. Good grades, good school, good life, didn't was you to be dragged down by a dick like me." He huffs out, turning away, "Signed up for the military that day, y'know. Remember when you said you wanted to just give up on your dreams of uni and jus' join the army. Just use all your frustrations on a gun or sumthing... I bulked up over that very summer."

You stifle a warm tear as it escapes and runs down your cheek.

"Wanted to be someone for you, swear down. So I signed up for the military...and I- that day. I was going to tell you...and ask you out."

Raising your eyebrows, you feel the atmosphere shifting, he continues.

"Yeah," Simon chuckles, reminiscing, "Wrote a letter cos I didn' know how to get my feelins across. But uh, I was too late. And when I asked your friend, and they told me you were moving out for uni...I just thought it was better to let my feelins die out. Didn't wan to drag you down any further..." He mumbles the last part.

A mix of emotions flood through you as Simon's words settle in the room. The weight of the years apart, the misunderstandings, and the unspoken feelings hang in the air. You take a deep breath, wiping away the tear that escaped earlier.

"Simon," you begin softly, your voice trembling with a blend of sadness and hope. "You never dragged me down. If anything, I felt lost without you."

Simon's gaze shifts back to you, eyes searching for any hint of resentment or anger. Instead, he finds warmth and understanding, a look he's not seen in years. "I thought you'd be better off without me. That you'd move on and find someone who could give you everything I couldn't."

"But I never wanted someone else," you confess, your voice firm despite the quiver in your heart. "I wanted you, Simon. Even when you weren't there, I kept hoping you'd come back. Do you know how many times I've looked at my phone hoping it was you that was calling me?"

Simon laughs, moving ever so slightly closer to you, his thumb continuing to stroke your hand, his touch grounding you both in the present moment. He takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I'm here now," he says finally, his voice steady. "And I'll call you ever chance I get. Don't want to waste any more time."

You squeeze his hand in response, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Neither do I."

Simon presses a chaste kiss against your forehead and you lean against him.

"The name Riley really does suit you, y'know." Simon whispering into your hair.

"One step at a time, Si." You whisper back, burying your smirk into the crook of his neck.

Maybe your parents were wrong, maybe love at first sight does exist.

Outside the room, the 2 men straight in awe at the couple. The doctor sighs, "No more trouble in paradis-"

The solider nudges the doctor, "You wish that was you, huh."

me rn

tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @chessecakelover, @owkittie, @cheomain, @corvusmorte, @k4es, @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese, @yyiikes, @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk, @spankmydepression, @yourfavbabigirl

#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #ghost #ghost angst #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon angst #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff

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wholoveseggs · 1 month ago

Text

Stains {Part Four}

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

Part Four

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} One meddling Mikaelson, one stubborn heart, and one heated confrontation that leads to surrender...

♡♡ Thank you for all the love for this series!!♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, smuttttt, possessive!elijah, financial boundary-crossing, a heated argument, a cappuccino & a chocolate chip muffin, lots of aftercare, elijah being vulnerable & bathtub confessions...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}

@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

The next day you woke up feeling like hell. Your eyes were puffy and swollen, and your head was pounding. You had cried yourself to sleep, and the emotional turmoil left you feeling exhausted.

Elijah's words, his touch, his scent, were all seared into your mind, and no matter how hard you tried, they wouldn't leave.

You stood in front of your coffee machine in a daze, listening to it brew as you browsed through the news. There was a small article about the charity gala, and your stomach lurched when you saw his face, his arm around the waist of a beautiful woman.

You scowled, closing the app and checking your emails. You had a message from your boss, congratulating everyone on the successful gala, a few spam emails, more than a few food delivery notifications and a message from your landlord.

You ignored the rest, and clicked on the message from your landlord. It was a notice that you had overpaid your rent, and that you didn't have to pay them again until a year from now. You stared at the email, confused. You knew you hadn't overpaid, and yet, the statement said otherwise.

You opened your bank account, and none of the numbers were correct, your maxed out credit card balance was now zero.

Your brows furrowed as you frantically clicked on your recent transactions. Around 3 AM last night someone had transferred an obscene amount of money into your account. You stared at the number, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through you.

He didn't. No fucking way…did he actually...?

You picked up your phone and dialed his number, the anger rising in your chest. It rang a few times, and then he answered, his voice sounding slightly sleepy.

“Hello, darling," he said in his infuriatingly calm tone.

"Did you hack my bank account?" you snapped, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Good morning to you too," he replied, sounding amused.

"Did. You. Hack. My. Account," you growled, each word punctuated by a pause.

"No," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I transferred funds to your bank account."

"How could you!" you exclaimed, your anger spilling over. "Do you have any idea how violating that is?"

"I owed you for the dress," he replied, a note of confusion in his voice. "Why are you upset?"

"Because I don't need or want your money!" you shouted, unable to keep your temper in check. “And this is way more money than what my dress is worth.”

"It was a gift," he said, his voice calm but with an edge of hesitation, as if he were beginning to realize his misstep. "I thought... it would help."

"Well, I don't accept your gifts," you retorted, glaring at the wall, your voice trembling with frustration. "You should’ve asked me first, Elijah. This isn’t your decision to make."

"I apologize," he said, sounding genuinely sorry. "I didn't mean to offend you."

You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your anger. "It's not just that," you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "You think money can solve everything. But it doesn't. Not for me. You can't just step into my life and decide what I need without even asking,"

There was a long pause, and for a moment, you wondered if he had hung up. But then he spoke, his voice softer, almost hesitant.

"Then tell me what you need," he said, the simple words hanging in the silence.

"I..." You faltered, unsure how to answer. The truth was, you weren't sure what you needed. Your anger faded, leaving behind a strange hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm sorry," Elijah said again, his voice sincere. "Come over," his voice quieter now, almost uncertain. "We can discuss this in person. Please."

"Absolutely not," you replied, adamant. "All you want is to get in my pants. That's all any of this is about. So, why don't you go back to fucking one of your models, and leave me the hell alone."

There was a stunned silence on the line, and then, "Is that what you think? You think I want to fuck you and then toss you aside?" His tone was incredulous, but there was something raw underneath, something that almost sounded hurt.

"Yes, and if I never see you again, it will be too soon," you retorted, your voice sharp as a blade, ending the call before he could respond.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. The man had absolutely no boundaries. None. Zero. He crossed every line, and invaded every part of your life. This wasn’t just about money. It was about control. And the worst part was, it wasn’t even malicious. Elijah thought he was helping. But that only made it worse. He didn’t see you. Not really. To him, you were just another problem to fix, another line in a ledger he could balance with enough zeroes.

You paced around the room, your mind racing. He had paid off your rent, and your credit card, all of your student loans and the sheer audacity of his actions infuriated you. He didn't even bother asking, just went ahead and did it. For a brief moment, you felt the weight lift, the endless pressure of rent and bills vanishing. But that moment was fleeting... It was a dream come true, but it was a gift wrapped up in thorns.

And that damn kiss. You couldn't forget how it felt, the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours, the way his body felt pressed against you. Fucking asshole. You were so pissed off, and you could feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You tried to distract yourself with chores, cleaning the apartment, washing dishes, washing the floors. You were in the middle of stripping your bed sheets when the intercom buzzed.

You ignored it, knowing exactly who was calling. He kept pressing it, and you could hear his voice through the speaker.

"I brought coffee and an apology," he said, his tone light.

You glared at the speaker, tempted to press the talk button, and just scream at him.

"Cappuccino," he continued. "Extra foam, and a chocolate chip muffin."

You sighed, relenting, and hit the talk button.

"Go the fuck away," you growled, not caring that the neighbors could hear. "It's creepy that you know my coffee order,"

"Well after I wore it on my suit, it wasn't hard to guess," he replied, sounding amused.

"I don't want your coffee, or your apology," you said, crossing your arms.

"That's a shame, because I'm coming up," he said, the intercom beeping as the line disconnected.

"Shit," you muttered, pacing nervously.

You didn't want him in your apartment, and you were tempted to hide. It was childish, but he was just so frustrating and irritating and hot and...

A knock sounded on the door, and you tensed, hoping he would go away. He knocked again, and called out your name.

You cursed under your breath, and walked over, pulling the door open, scowling.

"Get in before the neighbors complain," you grumbled, stepping aside.

He walked into the apartment, his gaze drifting around the room. "You really should get better security for the door, it's a simple fix," he said, setting the bag of food on the counter.

"Yeah, it's terrible, any creep can walk right in," you retorted, closing the door.

"You have a lovely home," he said, his gaze returning to you.

"Uh huh. What do you want?" you asked, glaring at him.

"For you to listen," he replied, taking a step towards you.

“No, I’ve heard enough.” You moved toward the couch, putting space between you. He followed, pulling out the coffee and muffin, setting them in front of you like a peace offering.

“Please, sit,” he said, his voice quieter now. There was no edge to it, no smirk. Reluctantly, you sat down, if only to glare at him from closer range.

“Hurry up, I have a busy day ahead of me,” you lied, snatching the coffee and taking a sip.

“I think you’re a remarkable woman,” he began, his tone unusually earnest. “Strong, driven, resilient. You’ve been fighting so hard for so long, and I…” He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. For once, he looked unsure. “I saw something of myself in you.”

You blinked, the admission catching you off guard. “What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“I grew up with nothing,” he said, his voice soft. “No safety, no security, no comfort. My siblings and I… we had to fend for ourselves. And we made it out, but with lasting wounds. Wounds I carry still.. and occasionally project on to others,"

He paused, his gaze dropping to his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap. “I know what it’s like to feel the world is stacked against you. To feel like you’re one wrong step away from losing everything. When I see you struggling, I just… I want to help. Because I’ve been there.”

The vulnerability in his voice was staggering. For the first time, he wasn’t the smug, untouchable Elijah Mikaelson. He was human. Flawed. Relatable.

You wanted to stay angry, but his words tugged at something inside you. “You thought throwing money at me was the answer?” you asked, your tone softer now, though still edged with frustration. "You could have just apologized for being an asshole."

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t just about the money. It was about... wanting to ease your burden. To show you that you don’t have to fight alone.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling. Anger, confusion, and something else; something warmer.

“You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, grabbing the muffin. “And you use way too much gel. Your hair looks like a helmet.”

He blinked, startled, before a low chuckle escaped him. “Is that so?”

You reached up without thinking, running your fingers through his perfectly styled hair and messing it up. “Yes, so stop trying so hard to look perfect.”

He grinned, his hair falling into his eyes, and damn it if it wasn't the most adorable thing you'd ever seen. "Duly noted," he said, his smile widening as you smoothed his hair back.

"Same goes for your ties, they are so damn tight," you mumbled, loosening his tie and unfastening the top button of his shirt. "Are they restricting the blood to your brain? that would explain a lot,"

He chuckled again, his gaze warming. "You're beautiful when you're angry," he murmured, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath caught at his touch, and heat pooled between your legs. "Shut up," you said, unable to keep the smile from your lips.

His gaze flicked to your lips, his smirk softening. “Make me,” he said, and the challenge sent a jolt through you.

You didn’t think, didn’t plan, you climbed into his lap, your hands gripping his shoulders, and kissed him. It was different this time. No anger, no heat, no battle. It was slow and languid, and his hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

You felt the tension in his muscles slowly relax, and the kiss grew deeper, more intense. He nipped at your bottom lip, drawing a low moan from you.

Your hands roamed his chest, tugging on the buttons of his shirt, your nails scratching down his chest as you went. He felt impossibly solid and warm beneath your fingers. He let you undo the shirt, and pulled it off, tossing it aside, and you could see the dark hair scattered across his chest.

You leaned back, and admired his toned physique. You ran your fingers down his torso, and felt his abs flex under your touch.

"Like what you see?" he asked, a note of amusement in his voice.

You flushed, and opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with another kiss and moved his hands up, slowly lifting your shirt. You didn't try to stop him, despite your earlier reservations, you wanted this, and more than that, you wanted him.

He pulled the shirt over your head, and tossed it aside, his gaze lingering on your body. You were suddenly very aware of your plain, cheap bra that was hanging on by a thread. You didn't exactly get dressed that morning expecting anyone to see it, and you flushed, self conscious.

"This garment has seen better days," he said, smirking, his fingertips grazing the fraying lace.

"How dare you, it's a Brioni," you replied, mock outrage in your tone.

His eyes flashed with desire, and his touch became bolder, as his lips left a trail of kisses down your throat.

"I like that sharp tongue of yours," he murmured, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts. "I wonder how long it will take me to turn those quick words into soft moans,"

You shivered, his words sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "Don't make promises you can't keep," you breathed, arching into his touch.

"Oh, I fully intend to keep them," he said, his smirk deepening. He leaned forward, pulling your bra down and capturing a nipple in his mouth.

You gasped, the heat of his mouth making you squirm, your fingers tangling in his hair. He teased and suckled, building the sensation until it was almost too much.

He released the hardened nub, and looked up at you. "Still got any complaints?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the flush of arousal on your cheeks. "No," you said, breathless. "But I have plenty of demands."

For a moment you both stopped, just looking at each other, drinking each other in. Your breathing was labored, and you were trying not to let your mind run away with you, because there was still that nagging thought, that little voice, telling you this was a mistake, that his affection wasn't genuine.

But then he smiled, it was a soft, gentle smile, and your heart lurched in your chest. No one had ever looked at you like that, like you were the only thing that mattered.

All the tension that had been building between you snapped, and your remaining clothes were shed in a frantic tangle of limbs, your hands fumbling with his belt, as he unhooked your bra. The moment you both were completely naked, he lifted you up, carrying you to your bed, and laying you down, his body covering yours.

He was strong, much stronger than you anticipated, and your hands traced over his arms, his biceps firm and muscular, as he propped himself up with his elbows on either side of your head. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and you couldn't help but glance down.

"My eyes are up here, darling," he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed, and you smiled at him. "Oh, hush," you said breathlessly.

He lowered his head, his lips ghosting over yours, the light touch making your heart race. Your body was on fire, and every nerve ending was electrified, aching for more. He moved down, trailing kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach, and then lower, kissing the inside of your thighs.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, and licked a slow stripe up your slit, the sensation making you gasp and buck your hips. He gripped your hips, pinning them in place.

"Elijah," you moaned, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

He glanced up at you, and you could see the wicked gleam in his eyes, still arrogant, still smug. "Use that sharp tongue and beg for it," he taunted, dipping down and flicking his tongue over your clit.

You whimpered, your whole body feeling like it was melting into a puddle beneath him, everything around you vanished except his lips and tongue, working magic on your cunt.

"Pl- Please," you stuttered out, your hands clutching at his hair, your eyes closing.

He hummed in response, the sound sending jolts of pleasure through your already sensitive body. His movements quickened, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm until your entire body tensed, the release building higher, higher. Until it finally shattered.

You cried out his name, your body arching off the bed as the climax ripped through you, every nerve alight with sensation. His grip on your hips softened as he eased you through it, his mouth slowing but not stopping until you were trembling and spent beneath him.

Elijah pulled back, pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and yet somehow, the sight of him between your legs, his lips glistening with the evidence of your pleasure, sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

You tugged him towards you, pulling him into a desperate, needy kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. It was your turn now, and you were determined to make him writhe beneath you.

You broke the kiss, and pushed him down on the bed, a surprised noise escaping him. You straddled him, and kissed him again, this time harder, more insistent. His hands roamed over your body, pulling your hips down and grinding his cock against you. He felt so thick, and you felt a twinge of nerves, a little voice of doubt creeping in.

He sensed your hesitation, and paused, his eyes searching your face, his gaze filled with concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his tone gentle and reassuring. "Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head, a little embarrassed, "No, it's just... never mind,"

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your jaw, his hands gently rubbing your thighs, his gesture so tender and intimate that it made you ache.

"You can tell me, what is it?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

You took a deep breath, pushing away the insecurity. "It's... it's just been a while, and... you're bigger than average and it's intimidating, ok? Now, please, shut up and don't say anything," you blurted out, and then closed your eyes, feeling like a complete idiot.

You didn't see him grin, or the way his gaze softened with affection, but you heard him laugh, low and soft. It made your heart clench in your chest, and your eyes opened, meeting his again.

He leaned in and kissed you, all tender and gentle and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him, kissing him back with everything you had.

"We'll go slow," he said softly, breaking the kiss. "You just say the word, and we can stop," he reassured you, and you nodded, a small smile on your lips.

"I'll hold you to that," you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"I expect nothing less," he smirked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You kissed him again, letting yourself melt into him, into the moment. All thoughts, all doubts, were banished, and the only thing that mattered was him, his skin against yours, his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of you. You lowered yourself down onto his cock, taking him slowly, savoring the feeling of him stretching and filling you. He let you take the lead, his touch gentle, his lips soft.

You began to move, setting a slow, steady pace, your hands on his chest, the muscles firm beneath your fingertips. His hair fell across his forehead, and his lips curved into a small, tender smile as he looked up at you. His eyes were dark with lust, but his smile was warm, and your heart beat wildly in your chest, because there it was again, that same emotion in his eyes that you were so afraid of.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, your voice soft and breathless.

His brow furrowed, confused. "Why not?"

"Because..." you began, and then let out a gasp, as he guided your hips, rolling them in just the right way, the movement hitting a sweet spot inside you.

He smirked, his gaze locked on yours as he repeated the motion, coaxing another soft gasp from your lips, your nails digging into his chest.

"Because what?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"Because, you're making it impossible for me to hate you," you admitted, the words slipping out.

"Oh darling, you never hated me," he replied, a soft grin on his lips. "You like me, just like I like you."

You blushed, the warmth spreading across your cheeks, and buried your face in the crook of his neck, hiding the flush.

"Shut up," you muttered, your voice muffled against his skin.

He laughed again, and the sound made you melt, the warmth in your chest growing. His hands squeezed your ass, lifting you up and then lowering you back down, thrusting up to meet you. You moaned, the pleasure building again, the friction, the pressure, the intensity sending you over the edge, the heat coiling in your belly and then snapping, sending you spiraling into a second climax, Elijah following you soon after.

The two of you collapsed into the bed, breathless and sweaty, and yet, somehow, utterly content. You turned onto your side, curling up next to him and for the first time since you met, neither of you had anything to say, and so you laid there, quietly holding each other, enjoying the moment.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke, his hand brushing your hair back.

“Stay here," he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "I’m going to run us a bath,”

"You don’t have to-" you started, but he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he climbed out of bed.

You watched as he walked naked to the bathroom, your eyes tracing the smooth lines of his back and the strength in his movements. His ass was distractingly perfect, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, a soft giggle escaping as you buried your face in the pillow. It still felt surreal that only moments ago, that incredible body had been entwined with yours.

A minute later, Elijah appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His smile was soft, almost shy, and it sent a flicker of warmth through your chest.

"Join me?" he asked, holding his hand out to you.

You stood and took his hand as he led you into the bathroom, the warm, fragrant water drawing you in. You sunk into the tub, the hot water feeling amazing against your skin.

Elijah sat behind you, his legs on either side of yours, and you relaxed back against his chest, sighing contently.

“This is nice," you murmured, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer. "Although this tub is much too small."

You laughed softly, the sound warm in the steamy air. "Not everything has to be extravagant, you know. Sometimes simple is... enough."

He was quiet for a moment, his chin brushing against your temple as he exhaled slowly. "You may be right," he admitted. "Though I can’t say I’m used to the concept."

You turned slightly, glancing back at him with a teasing smile. "Elijah Mikaelson, admitting he doesn’t need everything to be perfect? I should document this moment."

He chuckled, low and rich, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your arm. “I confess when I sent you that invoice for my suit, I knew I was being... unreasonable." He let out a low sigh, his voice softening. "It wasn’t about the suit. It wasn’t even about the money. It was... control. A petty attempt to assert dominance over a situation that, frankly, didn’t warrant it.”

You turned fully now, your gaze meeting his, the steam curling lazily around the both of you. "That’s… surprisingly self-aware of you," you said, a teasing lilt to your voice, though your heart softened at his honesty.

"I am capable of introspection, occasionally," he replied, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before adding, "I’d endure a thousand ruined suits if it meant having you here, like this."

You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, feeling more content than you had in a long time. "You have me," you murmured, smiling softly.

For a moment, Elijah didn’t respond. He simply held you, his eyes searching yours as though he couldn’t quite believe your words. Then he smiled, wide, genuine, and entirely disarming.

"Good," he said quietly. "Because I don’t intend to let you go."

You laughed softly, settling back against his chest. His arms tightened around you, holding you close as the water lapped gently against your skin. The moment felt suspended in time, the world outside the bathroom fading into a distant memory.

"I think I like you better like this," you teased, tilting your head to glance back at him. "A little less... perfect. A little more human."

He chuckled, the sound warm and low. "You make it sound like I’ve been unapproachable," he said, though his tone carried no real offense.

"You were," you replied with a smirk. "I mean, who sends someone an invoice for a coffee stain? That’s peak villain behavior."

"I'm a bit attached to my clothing, it's something of a personal weakness," he admitted, a wry smile playing on his lips. "But I can admit when I've made a poor decision."

You smiled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. "Well, for the record, I like the softer, more vulnerable side of you," you murmured.

He tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his lips brushed against yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

"I like you when there is fire in your eyes, and venom on your tongue," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "Although, you are allowed to let people take care of you, once in a while,"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, that's not really my style."

"It could be," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, I guess I could try," you said with a playful shrug. "But I'm not letting you pay for everything."

"We'll discuss the terms," he said, his tone light and teasing.

The two of you stayed there, wrapped up in each other, the steam rising around you. The moment felt both achingly tender and deliciously intimate. You never imagined that the man who had been such a thorn in your side would become so central to your happiness, but here, in his arms, you realized that perhaps it was fate that had brought you together.

And that sometimes, the best things in life are the ones you never planned for.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}

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