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#The concern for him becomes so much more personal
thoughtless-muse · 2 days
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chapter summary: daryl dixon was everything you despised in a man: rude, unkempt, derisive, scornful and unarticulated. yet, daryl dixon was also everything you craved in a man: mysterious, rugged, self-sufficient, masculine, aloof, and much older than yourself. it was the worst sort of enigma to place yourself in, especially during the throes of a damn apocalypse – and yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail to try and get closer to the man who hadn’t even bothered to tell you his name himself.
word count: 3.6k
c/w: language, suggestive themes/thoughts, a bit dialogue heavy, younger!fem!reader, first meetings, older/younger, undisclosed age-gap, subtle bickering, instant attraction, brief allusions to death/loss, super minor angst (maybe?), pre-season one at the quarry camp
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prologue: start of doomsday
being raised by a brother ten years your senior gave you ample time and experience to grow accustomed to being dubbed with various nicknames.
goob, goober, snot, shrimp, brat, princess – you’d heard all of those and many, many more. you had long since learned to let them bounce off of you, to simply roll with the flow and ignore them.
but when he’d given you a nickname, why, you simply couldn’t let it roll off your back; couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the exact moment he’d first called you it, couldn’t refrain from stewing over the way it had rolled – all gravelly, husky and derisive – off his tongue.
“well, ain’t’chu jus’ a doll, girly?”
doll.
he had called you a fucking doll.
and girly. as if you were some sort of child.
it was such a puerile thing to get hooked up on, something so trivial and immature – especially when compared to the more pressing concerns that you should be worrying about; such as the dead slobbering for your flesh and the dwindling food supplies within the camp.
maybe it was because when you had approached him you were just a hairs-width from a mental breakdown, the world nothing more than a mere crumble around you, and his rudeness acted as the straw that broke the camel’s back.
or maybe it was because you were simply trying to be nice, for fuck’s sake, and the moment he’d laid sight on you he decided he would harbor a personal vendetta against you, for no real reason other than he could – or wanted to.
you didn’t even know his name. and it had become painfully obvious that he’d taken great lengths to make sure no one in the camp did; when you’d approached shane about him moments after that fateful incident, shane had spared no more than a glance in the direction the man had stalked off in and shrugged.
“no idea who he is, really. he kinda just showed up.” was all shane had said, as if what had just transpired was trifling at best – and, deep down inside, you knew it was; a man copping an attitude with you was the least of shane’s worries, and it was petulant for you to expect him to place it above everything else that was already piled onto his platter, that it was stupid to expect him to do something about it as if he were a parent getting onto a child.
but you just couldn’t help it.
you hadn’t been able to help it for days.
those words rang through your head every time you saw him, sauntering around the camp with a scowl, lugging around that clunky crossbow like it was some sort of deterrent, like no one would be brave enough to approach him while he had it within his reach – it just flat-out irritated you.
you were only trying to be nice.
“I don’ need no damn help. I can find a tent jus’ fine!”
“prick.” you muttered under your breath, only realizing that you’d audibly expressed your distaste at the memory when a cool, damp hand gripped your bicep.
“you okay, (y/n)?” andrea asked softly, stroking her thumb over your skin soothingly. you shot the older woman a small smile, shirking off the irritation that had built under your skin from the mere thought of that man.
“yeah, yeah. I’m good, andrea. thanks.” you returned your focus to the bin of dirty laundry you had abandoned in favor of recounting sore memories and began to scrub near-viciously. this happened a lot, too, when you thought about him. the thoughts would pop up unprompted, and then everything else would fade away into mere white noise – you were sure it was incredibly frustrating for those who shared your assigned tasks each day.
andrea hummed softly and uncurled her fingers from your bicep to return her hand to her own basin once more. silence fell over the group of women washing clothes at the lakeside, nothing but the cries of forest birds, rippling water and churning splashes against the walls of multiple basins acting as a melody to the activity.
that was, until amy spoke up, her voice airy and strained by amusement that she tried to desperately to conceal. “so, uh, who’s a prick?”
you whipped your head over to glare at amy as muted giggles arose around you, and she vehemently avoided your eyes lest the smile teasing at her lips grew into a full on grin. heat flared over your cheeks and you blew out a puff of hot air, equal parts embarrassed and irritated that you were caught angrily musing over that man red-handed. again.
“no one.” you stated simply, voice weak even to your own ears; and with the way amy’s shoulders began to tremble with contained laughter, you knew she had picked up the lack of conviction within your tone as well.
she just knew you too well.
you had met the harrison sisters the morning after the bombing of atlanta. they had been among the group of people that shane had led to the quarry. amy was sociable, nice, and outgoing, fluttering around the camp and offering bottled water and protein bars to everyone around her. close in age, you’d clicked with her almost instantly, drawn in by her bubbly personality and likeness to yourself; the two of you had been nearly inseparable since, and you even considered her to be a best friend despite the fact that you’d met her only a little over a week ago – falling in with andrea seemed all but inevitable, and you couldn’t say you hated that.
andrea was more reserved than amy was, but no less kind. you weren’t sure if it was a facet of her personality or simply because she had seen the bond forming between amy and yourself, but andrea had, at some point, taken you beneath her wing and treated you as if you were an extension of her own family – it was comforting, but in some ways, it made your heart ache.
because you’d had that once before; had it in the form of broad shoulders, dark hair, blue eyes, and a voice of reason that could talk down even the most insane of serial killers.
you’d had it in the form of rick, ten years your senior and your best friend, tied to you by more than just shared blood.
“I’m serious,” you pressed, smiling through the sudden onslaught of ache within your chest. “I wasn’t talking about anyone.”
“okay.” amy responded simply, dragging out the ‘y’ in way that conveyed exactly how much she believed you in that instant. you chuckled lowly and shook your head, willing the pain in your chest to ebb away quickly, before it swelled to something too big to contain; a knot was forming in your throat, one that had become far too familiar within the past couple weeks, and swallowing it down was growing harder and harder.
amy’s attempt at prodding fell to silence again, one that the others seemed content in, completely ignorant to the turmoil roiling within you. the silence acted as a catalyst rather than a balm, an overwhelming force that prompted the small cut in your chest into a growing chasm, and in a desperate attempt to strike conversation and sow it back up, you said, “I was talking about that guy with the crossbow.”
laughter erupted around you – the first painful stitch. amy nudged you with her elbow with a light guffaw – the second stitch, a little less painful than the first.
“yeah, I kinda figured as much.” andrea acknowledged with a laugh. “you’ve been in knots over him ever since he first showed up.” the third stitch, nearly painless.
“I have not!” you rebuked, even though a small part of you knew it was true. the man had simply waltzed into camp one day, a string of squirrels thrown over one shoulder and his crossbow slung over the other, a scowl on his face and body covered in filth and grime. sweat glistened across his brow and over the skin of his exposed biceps, and when he spoke, it was with a southern drawl that had drawn you in nearly instantly.
he was attractive as hell, at least he was to you – you became instantly overwhelmed by the desire to talk to him, to know him, to get closer in some way; but perhaps you should have observed him a bit more before practically cornering him and offering your help. maybe then you would have been able to foresee his reaction, and you wouldn’t be in this torn-up state in the first place.
“he is a bit of a prick, though.” amy conceded. “I think the only reason shane allows him to stay is because he can hunt.”
that chasm had been successfully sewn up by now, but the flesh around it was still achy and sore, sensitive to any prod and poke. you’d have to tread carefully to avoid reopening it, at least for now.
“I’m sure he’s got other skills.” you weren’t sure why you were defending the man after just insulting him and stewing over him, but for some reason, it irked you for him to be likened to as a one-trick pony. maybe it was simply the cursed attraction you had to him.
“and I’m more than certain you’d love to figure out just what those other skills are.” jacqui, who had been stationed furthest from you, piped up for the first time. your mouth popped open, your eyes widened, and heat flared to your face while the others erupted into laughter. amy’s laugh was the most notable, loud and boisterous, and despite the slight mortification you felt at jacqui’s suggestive (but true) statement, you found yourself laughing along.
you wondered just how obvious you must have been about your attraction to the man for even jacqui to have noticed; you didn’t talk much with her, but when you’re sequestered into a camp fending for your lives against the walking dead, you supposed it was only natural to pick up on things about the people around you.
had the man noticed it, too?
after all, you had, without a doubt, noticed things about him; things that no one would notice unless they had their eyes on him a little too much.
you noticed the small things that made him attractive; the subtle age lines around his eyes and lips, the creases along his forehead, the bags beneath his bottom lids, the semi-permanent frown fixed upon his face.
you noticed the things about him that stirred your gut, that pooled heat between your legs and brought about carnal arousal within you; the broad width of his shoulders, the way those shirts with the cut-off sleeves framed and accentuated his biceps and torso, those small glimpses that his pants sometimes gave you of his package, the way he sauntered around, glaring at everyone, cold and unapproachable – like a dark, gloomy castle just waiting to be turned into someone’s conquest.
most of all, you noticed the clear difference in age between the two of you – fuck… it had to be at least ten years, right? if you were lucky, it may even be larger than that.
your gut twisted with the familiar sensation of arousal and your sex throbbed between your legs, prompting you to close your thighs together in an attempt to stop it. or maybe get some friction, you weren’t sure.
this was becoming a big, big problem.
“(y/n)! aunt (y/n)!”
a shrill, childish voice called out to you from the gravel road yards from the lake, effectively dousing the low-burning embers in your belly. you whipped your head back and cupped a hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun. you smiled widely at the approaching form of carl, your one and only nephew, and discarded the wet shirt in your hand in favor of turning your entire body to face the boy.
“hey, carl! what’s up?” you questioned the exuberant child when he halted just feet away from you, panting heavily and dowsed in sweat. you reckoned he must have run all the way here from the camp. what an energetic youth.
“there’s something going down in camp. shane’s fighting with this weird guy! he has a gun!”
your heart tripped over itself and you quickly rose to your feet, shooting a hand out to grip carl by the shoulder and draw him closer. a threat of this magnitude hadn’t shown face in the camp yet, and despite the fact that it wasn’t within your jurisdiction to handle matters such as these, you couldn’t push down the instinct to do so.
“amy, could you finish up my part, please?” you asked kindly, sending the young blonde a pleading look from over your shoulder. she nodded and reached over to pull your basin closer to her, throwing a cheery “you owe me!” at your back and prompting a chuckle from your throat. uneasy murmurs had broken about amongst the women at the lake, though amy seemed unbothered by the same circumstances, focused completely on her task where as the others had slowed to a distracted crawl.
“yeah, I do, thanks. okay carl, take me to camp.” you ordered the boy, who nodded and shrugged your hand from his shoulder before dashing forward, kicking up dust from beneath his heels.
you swallowed down the command for carl to slow down that swelled in your throat and instead picked up your pace; if it was true that shane was currently grappling with someone, you couldn’t waste any time on chastising carl or slowing the pace. you had to get to camp to de-escalate the situation if it called for it.
by the time carl had broken through the foliage around the camp, your ears picked up the unmistakable rumble of shane’s voice; it held that same stern yet soft tone that he used when talking to criminal suspects – you’d been there when he’d done it before.
“… just hand me the gun and tell me your name, and we can get this all sorted.”
“I ain’t handin’ya my gun, pretty boy.” this voice was different; rugged and hoarse and dry, as if the owner of it had just chain-smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. “alls I’m lookin’ fer is my brother. I don’ have any other business with ya.”
shane sighed heavily just as you broke through the green shrubbery surrounding the east side of the camp. his hands were glued to his hips, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man a few feet in front of him. when carl had first mentioned a gun, you worried that the man may have been pointing it at the ex-officer, or others; but it was instead holstered at the man’s hip, untouched and non-threatening.
“look, man, I get that. I don’t think you’re gonna hurt anybody; but we’ve got women and children here, and you’re a stranger with a gun. I can’t take any chances. I’m sure you understand.” shane coaxed further, removing a hand from his hip and extending an open palm to the man. the man glared down at shane’s hand but made no further movement; he didn’t reach for his gun, nor did he shift his feet at all, hell, you couldn’t even tell if the man was breathing at this point. but it was obvious this man wasn’t a threat – but if shane continued to pester him this way, he very well could become one; and with carl right next to you, that was a chance you couldn’t take.
shane huffed loudly and you saw his fingers twitch, as if he were barely holding back from striking at the man. you swallowed down your trepidation and pushed carl back, clearing your throat subtly before marching right up next to shane to confront the man.
“what’s your brother’s name? maybe we can help you find him; if he’s here.”
two pairs of eyes simultaneously snapped to you – one pair dark and narrowed in a harsh glare and the other quickly lighting up with barely-concealed interest. the stranger, a man with a buzz cut and wiry face, smiled widely at you, the tip of a pink tongue slipping just barely from between his lips as his eyes trailed your body. you pushed away the shiver that threatened to crawl up your spine and held the man’s gaze confidently until he was done with his blatant show of lewd conduct.
when his eyes met yours once more, there was a coy, feline smirk upon his lips, and his croaky voice had dropped a few octaves when he responded, “daryl. his name is daryl.”
for a moment, you sat silent, gnawing on your inner cheek and wracking your brain for just who ‘daryl’ could be. you didn’t know the names of every person in camp, but that list of unknowns was short – only three people. your heart constricted. could it be?
“so, your brother’s name is daryl. what’s yours?” shane piped up, voice edged with aggravation, as he rocked back on his heels and slipped his thumbs through his belt loops. the stranger’s eyes never left your body as he opened his mouth to respond, but the voice that echoed back didn’t belong to him.
“merle? what’d’ya think yer doin’ here?”
you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know who the shambling footsteps behind you belonged to. your stomach twisted in on itself when a warm hand pushed you aside by the thick of your bicep, not too roughly but enough to have you stumbling slightly, the contact brief but enough to leave tingles in its wake. you glanced at the man between yourself and shane, taking note of the grimace on his face as he stared down the stranger.
the stranger, merle, took no heed to the glares that were fixed upon him. he smiled widely and threw his arms out as if expecting a hug.
“baby brother! isn’t it obvious? I’m here lookin’ fer ya.”
“you know him?” shane inquired, jerking his head in merle’s direction, eyes locked on the man between the two of you.
the man – daryl, as you now knew – shuffled on his feet and cast his eyes to the side, giving shane a brief once over. after that, daryl returned his eyes to merle and nodded.
“yeah. tha’s my brother.”
shane ran a shaky hand through his hair and chuckled hotly, muttering something underneath his breath. trepidation fluttered in your gut. you’d known shane long enough to know exactly what those mannerisms of his meant, and it didn’t spell anything good. you had a bad feeling shane was about to say something either highly stupid or highly impulsive; more than likely something that was both of those things at the same time.
“y’know, I don’t really have a problem with you, daryl. I never have. but this” – shane gestured to merle, who was still standing with his arms extended and that wide smile on his face – “is a bit dangerous. when you came here, you didn’t tell us jack about you; we didn’t know who you were, where you came from, or who you knew. and I didn’t bother to ask.”
daryl hadn’t moved a single inch since shane began speaking, eyes still fixed on merle, but the discomfort was plain as day on his face, and you felt irritation begin to bubble hot beneath your skin. granted, daryl was a haughty, antisocial prick, but why was shane acting like he did something wrong?
“I mean, this is just–”
“what’s your point, shane?” you cut the man off, a bit rudely, turning a sharp-eyed glare to him past daryl’s chest. shane’s eyes widened fractionally as if he hadn’t expected you to interject yourself, yet again, into a matter that he was handling on his own.
“my point is that daryl put us all in danger.” shane pressed, lowly, with a hand wave towards merle and dark eyes glaring daggers into yours. “we don’t know him, and we don’t know his brother. for all we know, merle could have stormed into camp, gun blazing-”
“but he didn’t.” you rebuked impatiently. you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head subtly to the side. “and that’s a risk that comes with everyone in the camp. we don’t know anyone here, other than each other. and even so, you haven’t seen me in three years. I may as well be a stranger, too.”
“that’s different. you’re like a little sister to me.” shane rebutted, prompting an eye roll and hip jut from you. you wouldn’t consider shane a brother even if he’d spent every moment of your youth with you. you swallowed down that statement in favor of keeping yourself on track with the real issue at hand.
“my point still stands. nothing bad happened, so why don’t you just cool your jets and back off a bit?”
shane’s lips thinned into a line, dark eyes darting between you, daryl and merle a couple times before he heaved a great sigh.
“okay, fine, you’re right. nothing happened. but I’d still like to have a conversation with both of you, if that’s alright.” shane conceded, directing his final statement at the two brothers still locked in a stare down. daryl only gave the tiniest of nods to display that he’d even acknowledged shane’s statement, and, satisfied with the knowledge that tensions had been quelled, you turned on your heel to head back to the lake and check on the progress of the laundry.
unbeknownst to you, the event that had just transpired would turn out to be the catalyst to a soon-to-come tension between shane and yourself, as well as the act that had garnered you a modicum of respect and interest from the rude, attractive man that you were sure would never even notice you; and that little problem that you thought was becoming much too big was only going to grow larger, and very quickly.
chapter one
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a/n: tbh I struggled a bit with this one. it is just a prologue, a means of setting up the deeper story, but I still wanted it to come out as good as possible, and I feel I didn’t quite articulate that. but before this finalized version, I went through at least three drafts before finding this one to be somewhat adequate. if you guys enjoyed this one nonetheless, please show it some love! if you’re looking forward to more updates, consider following or being added to the taglist!
TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown
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harunovella · 2 days
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ every thought I'm thinking of is you; t.f.
synopsis: you never knew your parents had this much worry when it came to your college life, hiring a bodyguard for you, you just never expected to fall in love this quickly… let alone, let him be your first... content: fem!reader, bodyguard!toji, age gap, older man/younger woman, one sided love, slight obsession, reader is a little bit dramatic but she wants what she wants and what she wants is toji, love confessions, guilt, loss of virginity, pwp, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, aftercare (he is the king of after care ok), toji is a boob man, ambiguous/open ending, not beta read! note: okay but the concept of bodyguard!toji came to me a as a dream way before I wrote my leon fic where he basically becomes reader's guard... anyway, pls enjoy! I love dramatic endings, oops- title inspo (pls listen!)
Being a professional bodyguard meant being hired to protect those important, those who were wealthy. The array of politicians, actors, musicians—you name it—that hired him made his resume endless. However, this was a first. You were a first. Hired by a pair of rich folks to watch over their daughter who enjoyed her college years a little... too much. 
Being careless was quite the understatement. Sure, you were doing fine academically, excelling in your classes to get one step closer to your degree... but that didn't stop you from having a full college life. Even if you weren't in a dorm. What, with the success of your parents, you lived in a neighborhood near one of the country's most finest universities. There was no need to live on campus, you could stay home. 
Which is why you were always out at the wee hours of the night, not returning home until the sun rose. That was dramatic, but that was how your parents felt. You stayed up late, partied, got home at an ungodly hour and yet managed to be booked and busy the following day. No one knew how you did it, you just said it was you enjoying your youth. You thanked the universe for being blessed with beauty and brains, you weren't sure how you'd survive the life you were living. 
You just never expected your habits to be this concerning that you had to have someone watch over you like the others watched over your home and parents. You were used to bodyguards... but never one who almost always showed up everywhere you went. 
Toji felt like a glorified babysitter, and if it wasn't for how much your parents paid him, he would've never taken the job. He took his role seriously, he was a bodyguard and that's exactly what he did, especially when his salary was high, he had no questions. Just to protect. Even if the job was anything but easy. 
He had been through a lot in his career, the many death threats, nearly taking god knows how many bullets... the scars he's earned. Yet, nothing seemed harder than watching a young woman who wanted to live her life freely and carelessly. Especially a young woman who was nothing but a flirt and a tease. Wanting nothing more than to have his attention rather than ignore his existence. 
You, of course, never expected your personal body guard to be the sexiest man alive. Through and through. From head to toe. The dark, fringed hair. Those piercing green eyes that looked as if god got the exact colors of spring grass and replicated them in his irises. The build of his body, bigger than any man you had ever seen... so burly and strong. Arms so thick, muscles so wide. He was so broad, it made you salivate. You never liked men that were overly large. However, Toji? He was on another level. You wanted him. You needed him. No man ever made your mouth water or your body tingle the way this man did. All he did was watch after you, drag you home, and literally put you in your place. With the most indifferent expressions ever, almost never showing emotion even if there was a hint of annoyance in his tone when he scolded you. 
Yet, you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes, his words entering one ear and exiting the other as you gazed up at him. Your focus would settle on the scar that decorated his lips, you licking your own as you itched to kiss him. He had no clue the power he had on you. You were love drunk, completely smitten, he was the man of your dreams. As pathetic as it sounded, you wanted to even marry him. He could yell at you all he wanted, saying how you worry your parents and that he isn't your babysitter, but you'd still gaze up at him with the most loving eyes. 
Toji didn't know what he was going to do with you. 
It's probably what got him in this situation in the first place. 
He had stepped out to get some fresh air, processing the events that unraveled before him moments prior. Gathering his thoughts, trying to understand his feelings... trying to manage through all that had been going on that lead to this. He wasn't gone for long, just took a walk around the neighborhood to ease himself... he didn't expect to come back to your home with you completely missing. 
He called your name several times, searching every inch of the house once he found your window open in hopes it was all a ploy. You were an actress, quite the attention seeker when it came to him. You lived to make his heart race and play with his head. You enjoyed the cat and mouse chase, but something told him this wasn't that. This wasn't a joke. This was serious. And he hated it. 
"Cmon, answer me..." he grumbled, calling your cell phone, only to hear ringing coming from your bed. Shoving some of your pillows and plushies around, he growled. You left your phone behind. Did you actually leave out the window? It wasn't the first time... but you never left your phone behind. 
Rubbing his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose and huffing, Toji recalled the events that lead to this very moment. 
Your parents had been out of town for the weekend and you invited some of your friends over, sneakily stealing from their stash of liquor that wasn't so hidden. It was meant for gatherings or when either of them needed to lay back and relax. Your mother's best wine stacked up, your father's favorite whiskeys shelved. You couldn't recall how much you had consumed when Toji found you, kicking your friends out before handling you. 
You were a bit of a klutz while tipsy, a clingy mess who couldn't seem to let go of Toji. Like a leach, latching onto him and giggling. Hiccuping as you slurred your words. You were quite the lightweight—or at least drank a little too much. Toji had dealt with a drunken you before, always handling you to make sure you didn't go home like this. He was your savior, quite the massive angel when he sobered you up enough to avoid your parent's disappointment and wrath. Another reason why you fell so hard for him. 
Personal space wasn't a thing for you, you were all over him, hugging his arm, squeezing his bicep. Batting your lashes up to him, pressing your breasts against his side while dressed in that cute outfit that you'd sleep in. You had hoped to have your friends sleep over, but that didn't work out when Toji dismissed them. They were all used to him and never questioned him. Slightly annoyed, but they'd never cross a man like him. He was big and terrifying (and they knew you were head over heels for him).
It took everything in his power to keep things civil, asking you how much you had, trying to keep you from doing something you'd regret. However, that didn't stop you from pushing. You were persistent. You wanted what you wanted, and when you zeroed in on something, you'd stop at nothing. 
Settling you down and giving you water, making sure you chugged it all as he went through his usual routine to get you sober, you just sat there, happily. Gazing up at him and beaming with the brightest smile, you thanked him for caring for you. Going as far as calling him a true gentleman. He knew what you were doing, it was nothing new. Sighing and running his hand through his hair, he took your hand and pulled you up to your feet, leading you to your bedroom to get some rest. 
"Get some sleep, you need it," he said but you only whined. 
"I'm not tired," you frowned, shaking your head stubbornly and crossing your arms like a child. 
"You need to," he said sternly. 
"Nuh uh! Not unless you join me," you grinned but Toji shook his head. 
"No," he said your name in an almost warning tone. 
"Why not?" You pouted once again. "Why are you so dismissive of my advancements, huh?"
"Because I'm a gentleman," he said, using your own words against you. This making your pout deepen as you huffed. 
"I want you, Toji," you confessed, still frowning but looking away now. 
"You're just a kid, you don't know what you want," he dismissed as you rolled your eyes. You've heard that plenty. 
"I am not a kid, Toji. I know what I want and what I want is you." Without a second thought as Toji watched you stand on your bed, you grabbed the collar of his button down and tugged him in to you. Your lips slammed against his, not lasting any longer than a couple of seconds before Toji pushed you back. 
He was in shock, heart racing and eyes wide with confusion. Not that he never saw it coming, but a part of him almost nearly didn't want you to stop. And that was dangerous. He couldn't even have an inkling of desire for you. You were his assignment. Nothing more, nothing less. You were a child compared to him. A young woman with her whole life ahead of her, barely in her 20s and kissing a man in his mid 30s. "Don't ever do that again," he warned as you blinked a few times, frowning and eyes watering. "Get some sleep, you're not thinking straight," he said before storming out, shutting your door a bit roughly behind him. Leaving you there hurt, confused, angry and heartbroken. 
Snapping out of his thoughts at the not too distant memory that happened less than an hour prior, Toji cursed under his breath. He shouldn't have done any of that, shouldn't have handled the situation the way he had. Truth be told, he enjoyed your presence. He enjoyed your infatuation towards him. He liked that you were clingy and needy of his attention. It filled the void within him that he had struggled with for so long, using other women and gambling to cover it up. Who was he to have a girl like you by his side when he wasn't man enough? He wasn't the man for you. You deserved better. So much better. He wished you put the energy and effort you put into him, on to someone else. Someone more deserving. Someone more age appropriate. Not your bodyguard who was just a tamed assassin. A man who could kill and not feel an inkling of remorse. 
Yet, here he was, blaming himself and chasing after you. He couldn't let anything happen to you. Couldn't let you get hurt. Not only would he lose his job and possibly his head, but he'd never forgive himself if something were to happen and he never saw you again. Wouldn't forgive himself if he never had the opportunity to clear the air. God, what were you doing to him? Never did he care this much about a client! Let alone, a woman!
You couldn't be too far, he came back right when it began to rain. If you were smart enough, you were hiding out somewhere to avoid him. 
At least, he hoped. 
Of course, you, in all your dramatic wisdom, were walking in the rain. Arms clutching to yourself, trembling at the cold and the lack of layers on. In nothing but your pajamas and slippers. You were being over the top, but your mind was so clouded. Not only by the alcohol, but the fact that the man you were madly in love with rejected you. Sees you as nothing more than a child when you weren't. Just because you liked to have fun in your youth. Why did you have to fall for him? 
Crying as your head throbbed, barely able to focus on your surroundings, especially at a late hour like this one. You should've stayed home and just cried yourself to sleep. You were just so angry! You just wanted to leave and never see him again!
Suddenly, the sound of a booming voice shouting your name caught your attention. Looking over to see Toji exit his car and run after you, you quickened your pace. You wanted nothing to do with him, you didn't want to see his stupidly handsome face. You just wanted to be left alone, why couldn't he understand that?! 
Yet, here you were, being chased by him. You knew you wouldn't get far, he was too skilled and you may have ran from him a few times in the past only to be snatched up each time. Of course, even with that lingering in your head, you still hoped maybe this time you could escape him. Even if all those other times you ran with the desire of him catching you. This time? You wanted to be as far away from him as possible. 
Only to trip over uneven pavement. Lovely. 
Grunting and whimpering from the sudden impact, you were ready to force yourself up and keep going, only for him to snatch you up. 
"Are you crazy?!" He shouted in your face, hands gripping your upper arms as he shook you. "Do you know what time it is?! Do you know what could've happened to you?! You could've been kidnapped or killed!"
Feeling your blood boil as you panted, you pressed your small palms against him, shoving him off of you. "Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Continuously trying to push him away, Toji wouldn't budge. Growing frustrated and antsy, you acted before you even thought, your palm meeting his cheek as you slapped him. 
With a low snarl, Toji glared down at you, grinding his teeth. He couldn't understand why you were behaving this way, his denial towards you shouldn't have been such a big of a deal. It was a stupid crush, he was sure. Something shallow. So why did you continue to fight him?
Capturing your wrists and pinning your hands down as he pressed you against the light pole behind you, Toji hissed, "you need to start acting like a damn adult, not this childish bullshit—"
"Make me," you spoke through clenched teeth. You were shaking from both anger and the coldness of the late night showers. You looked deep into his eyes with, what could've been read as, deep hatred. He knew you didn't hate him, but you were furious. 
Feeling his heart race from the adrenaline, skipping a sudden beat from your threat, hating how they suddenly triggered something within, Toji snarled. He felt pathetic knowing he was feeling something he shouldn't towards you, fighting everything in him to suppress whatever it was, being why he reacted so roughly. Like he always did. "Stop behaving like a fucking brat. Grow up. You're a 20 year old college student. Not a 15 year old girl with a crush on her teacher. Act your age and stop thinking the world revolves around you, like you're invincible, when there are those who care and worry about you—"
"Fuck you!" You snapped. "You don't care about me!"
"Who says I don't?! I'm literally right here!" He shouted. 
"You're here because it's your job and so you can get paid!" You snapped back. "You don't care about me, not one bit! You never did! I was always just a paycheck! I hate that I fell in love with you!" Instantly regretting your words, realizing what you just said, you panicked. Looking absolutely mortified, you felt Toji's grip tighten around your wrists. You wanted to melt, puddle up and evaporate. Disappear from this universe. How could you let that slip?! Sure, you had an obvious crush but never love! At least, you wouldn't dare admit that!
Suddenly, you tried slipping from his grip, thrashing around to escape, punching his chest and telling him to let you go. Practically begging him to. Instead, he loosened his grip on one of your wrists and grabbed a fistful of your hair, angling your head as his lips collided with your own. 
It was far more intense than any other kiss you've ever had, the way he was practically eating your face. Tongue nearly down your throat, stealing every breath you had, saliva spreading in a sloppy manner. You didn't even think, your body acting before you could as your hands reached into his hair. Gripping and tugging at the dark locks roughly. Biting his lip hard enough until he bled, Toji hissed and landed a harsh smack against your ass, earning a yelp from you. 
"Is this what you wanted?" He asked in what was possibly the lowest voice he could muster. As if it was filled with anger, annoyance, worry and... lust. 
You couldn't even look at him, ashamed in yourself as you shook your head, speaking in the saddest voice, "I just want you to love me back..."
For once, Toji felt off guard, his eyes widening as his grip on you instantly loosened. His chest heaved as his heart thudded against his ribcage. It wasn't even pathetic the way you spoke, far from it. If anything, he felt bad that you wanted someone like from him. And he hated that a piece of him—a big one at that—wanted to give that to you. You did a number on him and you didn't even know it yet. Even in the rain his body felt like it was on fire, as if his skin would melt off. His mind was a mess, thinking about your confession and desires. How attached he's grown to you without truly realizing it. The interactions you've shared and the small advancements made. He hated that... a part of him knew he's fallen for you, too. Quite possibly since the first interaction when he told himself you were nothing more than a spoiled brat and to suppress those feelings... when, in reality, you were nothing but kind. A little wild and youthful, but you never did anything to make him hate you. Never did anything to make his job boring. You were a lot to handle but, he liked it. He enjoyed the thrill of the chase. He enjoyed you. But, god, did it feel so wrong for you to want a man like him with such a troubled past. With almost nothing to offer. 
"Fuck..." he cursed under his breath as you suddenly looked at him with pure confusion. Blinking in bewilderment. "I'm taking you to my place." Without a second thought, he lifted you up and took you to his car, driving you to his place and knowing very well this could end terribly for the both of you. 
But, he couldn't stop now, not with his hand on your thigh as he drove and not when he pulled you into his place when you two arrived. And definitely not when he stood before you, towering your figure as you looked up at him with those doe eyes that made him want to fucking melt. 
"Do you really want me?" He asked. "If you're not sure you can take it I rather you just shower and take my bed before I do something I'd regret."
"Toji, I want you so badly, it hurts," you nearly whispered in desperation, not wanting to lose any chances of having him. He had no idea how fast he made your heart race (or made your inner thighs ache) in deep need for him. 
Stalking towards you and cornering you as your back collided with a wall, Toji asked you once again, "are you sure?"
Nodding, you looked up at him with a shaky body, desperate to feel his touch. "Yes, please..."
Toji's hand instantly wrapped around your neck, thumb and pointer finger pressing against your jaw as he pulled you in. He lips smashed against yours, shoving his tongue past them with no hesitation. It felt like he was trying to consume you, exploring every inch your mouth had to offer, moans slipping past your part lips every time he'd sloppily kiss the corners of your mouth. The shared salvia smeared as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded. Your knees were just about to give out, your heart pounding in your chest and humming in your ears. Toji's grip tightened as his free hand slipped under your now soaked camisole. Groping and squeezing at your left breast, thumb brush against your hardened nipple before he pinched it. You moaned slightly into his mouth, panting against him as his tongue intertwined with your own. 
Easily lifting you up with one arm, he brought you to his bed, dropping you on it and wasting no time with undressing. He unbuttoned the dress shirt he wore, nearly tearing it off and doing the same with the shirt underneath. His shoes long gone as he tossed your slippers to a side. You sat up on your elbows, trying to catch your breath as you watched the god of a man strip before you. Sure, the suits he wore while on duty hugged his body painfully so, you knew this man was ripped. It was obvious with his towering size and broad shoulders... but to see him shirtless before you? Every line and curve, the shapes of his muscles bulging, the deep v cut and trail of hair that lead to what you needed most. You swore you were going to pass out. This was the man of your dreams, your soulmate, you knew it to be true. And now... you had him, nearly bare before you as he slipped off his pants and wore nothing but his black boxers. 
Toji gripped your ankles and tugged you close as you looked up at him, wide eyed and lips parted. Your chest heaved as he crawled over you, hand pressing against the back of your head, pulling you into a slightly gentler kiss. He still chased after your lips, still desired to taste you, but he wasn't trying to swallow you whole this time. Not that you would mind.  You'd give him everything if you could. 
His large hands gripped your waist as he adjusted himself, straddling you and leaning on his heels before reaching for the hem of your top. Eyeing you and the haze that fogged your eyes, he took in a sharp breath. "Are you sure about this?" Hearing you hum, he shook his head. "No, I need to hear you say it."
"Yes, Toji... Please..." you begged, voice nearly cracking in desperation and need of him. 
Taking in a deep breath, eyeing you once more, he lifted your top a bit to reveal your body, stopping midway before he could expose your breasts. "I won't stop until you tell me to."
"I won't," you shook your head stubbornly. "I need you."
Letting out a small huff as his head dropped, grip tightening around your top, itching to just rip it off and tear you apart, Toji bit down. You weren't like the other women, never would be, he wasn't going to just fuck you without a care. He had some decency. At least, when it came to you. He'd never admit to himself why. 
Lifting your top off and dropping it to a side, Toji took your body in, your curves and every little mark that were unique to you—whether it was a scar or freckle—it was as if he was mapping your skin. You were squirming, whether it'd be desperation, anxiety, or insecurity, Toji dove in. He gave your breasts the attention they deserved, taking one in his mouth and the other occupied in his bear paw of a hand. He licked at the skin as his fingers teased your other nipple, biting and breathing against the wet skin, making you tremble beneath him. 
He switched positions, moaning into your mounds in a sound you've never heard before. If you had to guess, by the way he gave your chest so much focus, how he sucked at them as if they were his life force, and the way he was basically humping you... you'd say Toji was a boob guy. Through and through, no matter the size, he just loved the feeling of the supple flesh in his hands, in his mouth... his aching dick between them, even. If you knew any better, and if Toji lost all self control, he definitely would've fucked them. 
But not now, not this time. It was his first time with you, he needed to learn your body. Explore every inch of it. What turns you on, what makes your eyes roll back, what has you seeing stars. 
Toji gripped at your shorts, tugging them down and tossing it onto your matching top. Kissing down your belly, nibbling along the way and leaving marks in his wake, Toji found himself nestled between your thighs. God, if there was something he loved more than boobs were a woman's thighs. Thick or not, he loved them, loved having them wrapped around his neck, suffocating him. If he had a way to go, it would be by them. 
Kissing your inner thighs, making it to the apex of them, the scent of your arousal was driving him insane. It felt as if he couldn't control himself, grip tightening around your waist as his finger tips dug into your flesh. Not seeming to care of you had a barrier blocking him, Toji buried his face further into you, nose nudging your clothed clit as you shuddered. The shock that was sent throughout your body made your heart race faster as you watched him. It was like he was in a trance, even with your panties still on. 
Burying his nose further into you as you trembled, Toji couldn't help but lick against the cloth, tongue nudging your bundle of nerves as your legs shook. "You better not muffle your sounds, I wanna hear it all," he warned as he looked at you, you instantly nodding. Grinning, he yanked your panties off before he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. Your pussy, in all its glory, bare before him. He couldn't help but grin at the sight, the scent driving him mad as he found himself rutting against the mattress. Truly, a woman's body was his ultimate weakness. 
Purposefully tossing your panties in a different direction to keep for himself (for future—personal—use, of course), Toji dove in. He didn't even bother to give a single warning. Open mouthed, practically making out with your pussy, your head fell back as you began to squirm. Your moans grew louder the further Toji teased you. With every lick and every suck of your clit, to the prodding of your hole with his tongue, you felt as if you forgot to breathe. 
Your thighs were clenching against his head, Toji's grip tightening to prevent you from suffocating him (even if he wanted to welcome it). The sounds were disgusting in a way that turned you. It was almost painful, how good it felt. The way he worked you open with just his tongue, slurping every bit of your essence that leaked. It didn't take Toji long to figure out how to make you come. It wasn't going to be the only time, anyway. 
You felt completely spent, lying almost limp before him. You should've known this man was an expert, but a part of you... that was rather innocent, had believed it was going to happen once when he was in you. Of course, you should've know once wasn't enough. No. Not when he introduced his thick fingers, spreading you open, pumping deeply into you as he watched you squirm. He was nearly getting off to it, the way you panted and moaned his name, smaller hands gripping at his sheets as your toes curled. He grinned to himself, licking his scar as he pushed your legs further apart, pumping his fingers faster into you, proud of himself for making you come a second time.
"Look at me," he demanded as your eyes fluttered open. Hooded and exhausted. You watched as he slipped his two fingers out of you, soaked in your release. He watched them in awe as you squirmed in embarrassment. Toji only made it worse when he brought them into his mouth, sucking with an obnoxious groan. It was then you noticed the painful bulge tenting in his underwear, an obvious wet spot that had formed. Did he get off... to you getting off?
"Fuck... 'm not gonna get used to that. Best I've ever had. So fucking good," he breathed as you took in deep breaths. "I think you're ready f'r me."
Gulping as he stood up to strip his underwear, an audible gasp left your lips as you eyed his cock. The tip red and leaking. Oh, you definitely weren't going to handle that. It was monster sized, there was no way no amount of prep would prepare you for the girth of his size. 
"Don't worry, I'll make it fit," he smirked, the twitch of his scarred lip making you let out an uncontrollable moan. He was hot and he knew it... and somehow that made it all the better. 
Kneeling before you and gripping your thighs, parting them and aligning himself with you, he reached in between and coated his length with your juices, pumping a few times before pushing into you. A gasp got caught in your throat as you nearly choked. Just barely in and you were squirming. "It's— Too big!"
"Too big? You were so desperate earlier," he nearly whispered, voice low and sending a chill down your spine. He pulled back and pushed further in, the stretch stinging and bringing tears to your eyes as you bit your bottom lip. "You can take it."
"Too much— 's too much," you breathed, hand gripping his forearms as if it would stop him. 
Instead, Toji laughed, pulling back and pushing in. Thrusting in and out at a steady peace to let you adjust to his size—until he began to reach deeper. Feeling as if you couldn't breathe, Toji leaned into you. Fucking you slowly and deeply, he left open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulders, biting the skin and leaving his mark behind. He couldn't help but lick at you, the sweat that was beading on your skin. You were intoxicating, he couldn't seem to have enough. All the little sounds, how you moaned his name. The way you begged. How your legs wrapped around him, keeping him in deep even if you cried that he was too much. 
He lifted his head enough to kiss you, tongue meeting tongue as he moaned into your mouth. God, it was all so much, yet... not enough. You wanted more, your body craved him. Your nails clawed at his back as your heels dug into him. He bit and sucked your bottom lip, lifting himself to look at your fucked out face. Swollen lips, teary cheeks, sprawled out hair soaked from the rain. You were an angel straight from heaven sent to him. He couldn't get enough. He needed more. More more more. 
Licking your tears away, deepening his thrusts as he grunted in your ear, your eyes rolled back, seeing galaxies the way his cock reached so deeply into you. You were sure he was going to mold himself against you. "Toji— I— I'm—" you were at a loss for words, mind going blank as you felt that chord within you snap. You came so hard, body trembling and overstimulated that you cried out while pulling at his hair. Toji rode it out, caressing your head and praising you as he continued to thrust in and out of you. 
"You did so good, so good. My good girl. You did so good," he praised as you trembled beneath him. Feeling his own orgasm building up, Toji eyed you and nearly came at the sight of your fucked out face. He fucked you dumb, he was sure there was no thoughts in that little head of yours. "In or out?"
"In— In..." you breathed, eyes barely able to stay open as your hands fell limp against his back, lost in his locks as you tried catching your breath. 
"Look at me," he said as you gulped, eyes fluttering open. He kept his focus locked on you, thrusting a few more times before stilling, coming deeply within your womb without looking away. It was almost the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You weren't sure how he did it, so enthralled by those emerald eyes, you were afraid that you'd do whatever he said with how hypnotized you were. 
Staying in you for a moments worth as his forehead pressed against your own, breathing each other in, Toji pulled out, earning a whine from you. Nearly flopping on his back, catching his breath as his heart raced, he rolled to his side and snuck a hand in between your legs, feeling the way his come was leaking from you before he gathered it and plugged his finger into you. You let out a small cry, turning your face to hide into his chest. 
"Can't let any of it go to waste, can we?" He asked as you shook your head. Toji moved to leave kisses down your thigh as he pulled his hand away, lifting your legs enough to eye the way his seed pooled beneath you. All the guilt was out the window with how clouded his mind was. Having you this way, you giving yourself to him even if it was all so very wrong. 
He hated to admit, he doesn't remember the last time he had sex like this that wasn't a way just to fulfill himself and only himself. Instead, he was getting off to you. Getting off to the way he made you feel. Especially that blissed out expression on your face... If only he could fuck you again and again and again until—
Toji stopped himself there before the thoughts got worse. You were spent, exhausted and probably unable to move a single limb. He had to clean the both of you up. "C'mon, can't stay like this, as much as I'd love to." Patting your thigh as you groaned, he leaned in and left a few more kisses against your lips, you lazily reciprocating them. 
Toji lifted you in his arms and brought you to his shower. Your body was shaking and legs were surely weak. He made sure the water was warm enough for the two of you, helping clean one another in sluggish movements (more from you and your exhaustion). Toji dried you up after, wrapping a towel around his waist as he helped ruffle your hair with the towel and dress you in one of his shirts. He sat you on his couch with a cup of water as he changed his bedsheets. Bringing you back to the bed, cuddling up against one another as you tried to morph into him, desperate for his warmth, you nuzzled his bare chest. His scent was intoxicating, your eyes falling heavy as you felt your body being carried away into your world of dreams. 
"I'm so thankful you're my first," you mumbled sleepily. Toji's once droopy eyes shot open. 
"I was... your first?" He asked with all sorts of hesitation. You were a virgin... and he took your virginity? 
"Mhm... I was saving myself for someone special enough. Guess that was you," you said before falling asleep, deep enough to not have an inkling that your words would be the reason why Toji hardly slept that night. 
Toji took you home the following day bright and early before your parents returned from their business trip. You freshened up and felt a sense of ease and happiness that you've never felt before. Ready to return back to Toji to say your goodbyes as he spoke to your parents, you found yourself hiding behind a wall as your heart skipped a beat and smile dropped at his words. 
"I apologize for the late notice but I'll need to take a leave of absence. I already have a few people lined up that can take over my position," Toji said. "I'll give you their contacts."
"What happened? Is everything alright?" Your father asked. 
"It's personal reasons I rather not disclose, but I assure you these people can watch over your daughter at a level almost nearing mine."
"I hope all is well, thank you for all you've done for us. Will we be seeing you again?" Your mother asked. 
It was what felt like hours before Toji spoke up again, leaving you with a heavy heart that dropped to your feet at his last words, "I am unsure," he admitted. "I wish nothing but the best for you."
Those last words weren't directed towards your parents, it was almost as if Toji knew you were listening. Was he really abandoning you after last night? Did your confession mean nothing to him? Did he... use you? Your bottom lip began to quiver as your eyes pooled up at his last words:
"Take care."
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natailiatulls07 · 22 hours
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Lando Norris x Female!reader
Summary - She's a workaholic, he just wants to help but she won't listen
Warning - Reader working herself raw, angst but fluff ending
A/n - I'm trying to answer all your requests, I promise, but I've been struggling alot with my mental health and college recently so please be patient 🫶🏻
-
She was at it again. Every once in a while Y/n would work herself to the bone with her work, her fitness, etc. Every time there was a routine to it - An unhealthy and tiring routine. It was just something she’d do and no one knew how to pull her out of that routine. Well one person did and over time he learnt how to pull her out of it - Her own best friend.
Each time he’d collected her up into his arms, away from her desk and through the hall to her plush and abandoned couch. Lando would wrap himself around her, shielding her from the world and he would help her relax. That man was her safe space. Every single time.
-
“I hate when you do this to yourself” He mumbles. His green eyes flicker down to her, seeing her shoulder so tense pains him really. 
A small and sarcastic chuckle escapes her lips. They had this conversation before and it’s becoming repetitive now - maybe she should listen to him sometime soon. “Mmh I know” Y/n mumbles into his firm chest, she can feel his calloused hand stroking her hair. The formula one driver lets out a heavy sigh, much like the female on his chest he also knows the common conversation between the two. 
A frown tugs on the ends of her lips as Y/n pulls her head away from his chest. “I need to get back to work…” She mumbles, actively avoiding eye contact and moving to stand up from her couch. 
Immediately Lando can see how tense and rigid she is again - It was hard not to notice it. “No no, you need rest” He urges, his British accent is soft and worried. “You’re wearing yourself out, Y/n. Please just listen to me, I don’t want to see you hurt” Although it felt like he was controlling her, the man just really didn’t like seeing like this. 
Shaking her head rapidly, Y/n struggled to tug her hands away from his. Having taken her hands in his, Lando did this to slow her and to calm her. “Lando please, I need to work…” It was getting heated now. 
There was a look of concern behind his eyes. “Y/n, you need to rest.” He wasn’t about to let her walk right back into her death. “You are not going to work. All you’ve done is work yourself to the ground. Y/n do you even hear me right now?”
“No! It’s okay Lando…” She’s pleading with him now - not understanding the damage she was doing to herself.
Lando continues to grip onto her wrists, he was determined to get his best friend to take a deserved break. “Y/n, it’s far from okay!” His voice held conviction. “A break is what you need, this cycle you’ve put your body through will eventually lead you to breaking down and we both know that it’s unhealthy!” Unknowingly tears began to form in the white of his eyes the more she resisted. 
“Get out.” Silence followed the two words. Never did they fight nor did Y/n ever raise her voice. “You need to get out of my apartment. Now.” There’s no room for discussion.
His jaw falls and he’s in total shock. “What?” The driver breathes out. The grip on Y/n’s wrists loosens and falls. Having been nothing but supportive and kind, he felt betrayed. And then he shook his head - completely refusing to leave even when practically ordered to.
“You need to get out of my apartment. Get out now!” There’s venom behind her voice as she shouts.
“No!” The two are in a shouting match by now. Lando could feel his frustration boiling and his temper becoming untethered. “I’m not leaving you like this. You need to see that rest is needed. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t” His fists clenched. All the formula one driver wanted to do was to help - not hurt her. 
Y/n sighs, realising that he won’t listen to her. “Fine. You can stay but don’t think you can stop me from working…” She narrows her eyes, pointing a finger towards the British man opposite her. “Unlike you, Lando Norris, some of us have to work our ass’ off every single day to just live!” 
Maybe she was right, maybe he was being selfish. But Y/n was killing herself with every coming day, anyone could see it. All Lando could do was sigh and nod his head. At least she was allowing him to stay, this way he could help. 
“Thank you…”
-
It had been two hours since Lando had seen Y/n. She had left him to settle herself in her office, back to the non stop typing. He was getting anxious and worried now.
Pausing the film he was watching, the driver moved from the couch and down the bright hall to her office. Listening from outside, he hadn’t heard anything. And when he slowly opened the door, there she was asleep. 
She looked so peaceful and relaxed. The corners of Landos lips curved into a smile. He really did love her and to see her finally at ease made him happy.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed…” He whispered, wrapping his arms around her before picking her up and carrying her to bed. Lando made his way out of the office and down the hall again to her bedroom.
As he was trying to open the door, Y/n started to stir. “Lando…?” Her voice filled with confusion and tiredness. Opening her eyes, the woman looked up at him to see his growing goatee and loveable smile. 
“Shh…go back to sleep sweetheart…” His voice was soft and gentle. Y/n felt like a princess right now as she slowly closed her eyes and fell back into a delicate slumber. “I love you so much…” Lando whispered as he lowered her down onto the plush bed - she didn’t hear him, he could only wish she did.
-
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radioisntdead · 2 days
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Too sweet
Alastor x gn reader,
Warnings!!
Mild ooc, reader is dessert themed also kinda imagining they have eyes that resemble 1930's animation but that's just me, casual backstory drop in the middle that's just never brought up again, death, pacing is a little off, Alastor is prepared with angelic steel this time! It does not help whatsoever!
Song: Too sweet
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It wasn't a secret that Alastor strongly disliked sweet things, it wasn't a complete hatred but he wouldn't willingly eat any, he preferred bitter things.
It can't be said I'm an early bird
You were as sweet as pure sugar, with that oh so charming smile of yours, your big ol' cartoony eyes, eccentric and positive attitude, not to mention you were quite literally dessert themed, Cake themed outfits, frosted purses, phone case adorned with spackled frosting, sprinkles and charms.
It's ten o'clock before I say a word
You were the most recent addition to the hotel, a few of the hotel's residents didn't quite understand how someone as sweet as you could've ended up in hell, it was theorized that maybe it was an act, a honey coated trap that would lead to the hotel demise or something.
Baby, I can never tell
That was thrown out rather quickly when you kept the same sweetheart persona even when alone, it was just how you were.
How do you sleep so well?
It was concerning to a certain few hotel residents when it was discovered that you had a thing for the Radio demon,
The way your eyes would linger on him for a moment too long, the way you would gaze at him love evident in your eyes.
You keep telling me to live right
Husk gave you a warning one night at the bar, you were sipping on a drink that had more sugar then any drink should, he was cleaning up the bar.
"Look kid, Alastor is a bad decision, this won't end well for you."
"I know." You had responded, twirling around that sickly sweet drink of yours
You weren't naive like your personality seemed to make people think, you knew Alastor was a bad idea, bad news, he was a cannibalistic murderer for heaven's sake!
To go to bed before the daylight
But it was alright to have a small crush that you wouldn't act on, it'd pass eventually but for now it wasn't bad to fantasize about dancing with him, cooking together or about doing something unholy like handholding! Nothing would become of it, you didn't have a good history with relationships anyways.
But then you wake up for the sunrise
Charlie was supportive of your little crush, she had found out about it after accidentally overhearing you drunkenly tell Angel Dust about it, that sugary little drink really did a number on you.
She decided she would try to push you and Alastor together, gently, She was such a great wingman!
After all Alastor tolerated you more than anyone else in the hotel so that's a indication that you might have a chance right? A truly slim one but a chance nonetheless!
You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then
When Alastor began enjoying your company a little too much for his liking it was like he, from his prospective had been thrown into a horror movie and trapped with little to no way out.
He enjoyed some of your antics and reactions.
Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake?
You were helpful around the hotel, helping out with advertising, you'd proofread scripts he had written for his radio broadcast, every time you went out for a treat you brought back some type of pastry or snack for the hotel residents, in particular you'd travel all the way to cannibal town to pick up something for Alastor, you didn't have too, but you did.
Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?
As time went on the feelings didn't fade, especially since Charlie heavily suggested that the two of you should work together on hotel related things, and that pinwheeled into the two of you spending more time together, getting closer, and eventually you began to avoid Alastor, you had a tendency to ditch the people you were fond of in a way usually in a cruel fashion, you didn't mean too, truly! But you did and you didn't want to risk it with Alastor for his sake and yours.
If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great
You were a known partier back in your day, you died back in the heights of the roaring twenties where you had the money and privileges to go to lavish parties where anyone who was anyone could attend much like the parties Gatsby held in the great Gatsby, you lived what some folks thought the roaring twenties were all about, Flappers, speakeasies, parties and short-lived prosperity.
You were in your twenties, rebellious and reckless, drinking any drink given to you, playing around with people's emotions with those sickly sweet words of yours, taking whatever substance you were given, and a year before the stock market crash, you were found dead on the dancefloor poisoned by a former darling of yours who didn't like that you had left them because things were getting 'too serious' for you.
You didn't handle death well, and in order to keep at least some of your sanity you went to hurling yourself onto the hellish party scene, frequenting speakeasies, trying to keep some sense of what you knew, repeating harmful cycles, but you couldn't do it forever.
And so you gave up the party scene around the mid 40's, burning bridges and leaving behind many scorned people behind.
You were more unstable back then, but you had improved, at least you thought you did taking up the sweet attitude by a couple notches, switching from drinking alcohol each day to drinking sweet smoothies or milkshakes.
You cleaned up your act and you were continuing to keep it clean especially as you checked into the hotel.
No one there knew about your track record and you would like to keep it that way.
But while in this world
The avoidance didn't last long since Alastor cornered you asking why and you blabbered out your feelings in one big ramble.
And that was that.
I think I'll take my whiskey neat
Charlie was ecstatic to learn that you and Alastor had gotten together, Others were concerned particularly Husk, his bets were that either Alastor would end up owning your soul, you'd become just as twisted as Al or you'd end up dead.
None of them would end well for you.
My coffee black and my bed at three
The two of you were opposites, while he took his coffee black and bitter you loaded yours up with milk, sugar and whatever other toppings you wished, when he stayed awake for multiple days in end you snoozed away at night, when he was threatening someone who was messing with the hotel you were trying to defuse the situation with sweet words.
You're too sweet for me
Alastor didn't like sweet things, but he didn't mind you and your sugary sweetness, infact you could say he was growing a little bit of a sweet tooth.
Just the sight of your sweet little smile was enough to cause a slight ache in his heart and that fact that you could be called his now was just wonderful!
You're too sweet for me
He could see himself getting used to all this sweetness, he just needed to make sure no one knew that.
I take my whiskey neat
You smiled, listening intently and sipping on your sweet alcoholic drink while Alastor recounted an encounter he had, a glass of whiskey in his hand whooshing around as he spoke.
My coffee black and my bed at three
It was after a hotel game night mixed with alcohol, the two of you were tired and intoxicated, you were a giggly drunk, laughing at the most mundane things, Alastor was escorting you to your room and much to his surprise it was a challenge as you would stop every few steps to laugh at how the crack in the wall looked like a giraffe or how that stain on the carpet looked like a birthday cake!
You're too sweet for me
By the time he had finally gotten you to your room he was exhausted, you kicked off your shoes leaving them on your floor as you dived into your bed, reveling in the comfortable blankets.
Alastor rolled his eyes as he entered your room leaning down to pick up your discarded shoes to properly put them away in your woredrob, he intended to leave to his own room but you reached out your arms to him making grabby hands, he walked over and leaned in to see what you wanted only for you to suddenly grab him, pulling him down and covering him in the blankets before promptly passing out with your arm wrapped around one of his.
You're too sweet for me
He was going to get up, he truly was but he hadn't slept in hell knows how many days now, and the bed was warm, before he knew it his eyelids were drooped. His shadow thankfully decided to close the door to your room.
I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go
The next morning he was greeted by you humming while gently petting his fluffy ears, he wasn't sure you knew he was awake at that point, but he rather liked having his ears petted, at least by you and it wouldn't hurt to savor this moment for just a few more minutes before the two of you would have to deal with the duties that the day held for you.
I work late where I'm free from the phone, and the job gets done
Alastor preferred to have his radio broadcast aired in the morning but sometimes he wouldn't get the chance too, [Maybe he indulged a little too much in his morning time with you]
He would air around eight pm and sometimes you would hang around his tower, doing whatever activity you had brought along until he was done and the two of you would walk back to the hotel, maybe grabbing a bite to eat.
But you worry some, I know
Other nights you would turn on the radio in his room and curl up in a blanket on the leather chair he had, closing your eyes and listening to his oddly soothing voice.
But who wants to live forever, babe?
Alastor didn't particularly believe that heavens gates would accept sinners even if they were redeemed, but nothing is impossible and he, although he doubted it, could be wrong and the Hazbin hotel could be a success in redeeming sinners left and right and you were one of the residents checked in for redemption.
You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate
Alastor moved a piece of your hair away from your face, careful not to disturb your sleeping position on his chair, he could admit to himself that he had gotten attached to you, and he couldn't just have his darling little partner leave him behind to fraternize with the winners above now could he?
The rest of you like you're the TSA
He picked you up from the chair and moved you over to his bed, tucking you in.
If anyone in this damned place could get redeemed it was you.
I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong
And Alastor, well he wasn't the type to be looking for redemption or redeemed, he was even less of the type to blindly follow someone somewhere even if it was you.
He did wish he could see his mother who obviously was in heaven but that simply just wasn't in the cards for him, it was tragic but he did murder people, he died while burying a body after all!
You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain
Alastor cut into the dead deer he had just sat on his table, he was about to take a bite when he caught a glimpse of you shooting up from his bed looking around in hasty panic before you visibly calmed at the sight of him, with one of your signature surgery sweet smiles that caused swirls in his heart you bid him a good morning.
Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape
Alastor strolled into the hotel after a day of errands, only to see everyone cluttered together looking at something you were holding that he couldn't see, you noticed him and waved him over, grinning as you held the red creature in your arms that looked strikingly like Alastor, you went on a small tangent about how you had found the little guy while taking a stroll around the hotel.
If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait
In all honesty he wanted to hurl the creature out the window but you were stubborn in saying that the two of you should keep the catlike creature immediately dubbing it as your son much to Alastor's displeasure.
Until that day
He and the little creature begun a little rivalry, whenever he had his arm around you that thing would try and headbutt it off.
On the plus side you had taken to dressing the little one up in ridiculous little outfits, usually to match you or Alastor, from dessert themed outfits to Alastor's signature suit.
The creature did not like being dressed the majority of the time as the little thing felt it was taken less seriously thanks to the outfits.
It was right, when the little one would strut around the hotel he was usually awe'd over by Charlie and Sir Pentious.
I'd rather take my whiskey neat
Time flew by as extermination day drew closer, preparing became the focus in the hotel, coating weapons in angelic steel, in particular you had a axe that you covered with dessert themed charms finding it funny, because imagine getting taken out with a dessert themed axe of all things!
My coffee black and my bed at three
You had just barely convinced Alastor to prepare to use an angelic weapon, borderline begging him to do so, you didn't know what you'd do if he got taken out or injured because he was too prideful and foolish to use angelic steel in some way.
You're too sweet for me
He just couldn't say no to you when you looked at him with those cartoonish eyes that reminded him of 1930's animation and surgery sweet smile!
You're too sweet for me
It was the night before extermination, everyone was ready, living this night as if they were going to die tomorrow, which they probably will but they had something to fight for! You indulged on the classic surgery sweet drink that you always got, sipping on it as Niffty declared Alastor king roach leading to you chuckling.
I take my whiskey neat
It was the time where everyone retired, laying in bed you gently brushed a hand through his awful haircut, the two of you chatted about what could happen tomorrow and what the two of you would do afterwards because obviously the two of you didn't intend on dying.
You let out a yawn, deciding to call it a night you gave Alastor a light peck before laying your head on your pillow.
My coffee black and my bed at three
Alastor channeled his inner Edward Cullen and watched you sleep, blanket curled around you, that little creature was snoozing by you, dressed in a onesie that you had obviously put on him.
He didn't say it often, or at all honesty but he adored you, the only sweet thing he would willingly indulge in.
He would do anything to protect you, you would survive the extermination, he would make sure of it.
You're too sweet for me
He, infact did not make sure of it.
It was during his little encounter with Adam, the first man had gone to attack him but you had ran in, taking the hit for Alastor.
Resulting in a large gash in your stomach, blood pooled around you as Alastor got a few hits on Adam before turning to you, clutching your body as shadows overtook the two of you, taking you to his radio tower.
You're too sweet for me
Alastor scrambled, his usual composed self gone as you were actively bleeding out, he tried to stop the bleeding but you had already lost too much.
I take my whiskey neat
He held you as he demanded to know why the hell you would jump Infront of him.
You simply smiled, lifting your hand to touch his face, you said three simple words that would be your last, the last thing you saw was Alastor's strained smile.
My coffee black and my bed at three
Husk was right, it would end one of three ways, either Alastor ended up with your soul, you became just as twisted or you died.
And many died that day, the hazbin hotel lost two of its residents, Sir Pentious and you.
Sir Pentious had died for his friends and you had died for the person you loved, sacrifices that landed the two of you into heaven.
You're too sweet for me
Alastor sat in his newly built radio tower, that damned creature that you had brought by his side.
He had managed to survive the hotel collapsing, good for him, unfortunately the person that brought him there didn't survive, and now he was stuck with Alastor, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing anymore.
You're too sweet for me
Alastor despised sweet things, they were filled with sickly sweet sugar that would leave cavities behind in it's wake, even after being brushed away it would still leave some damage like you did, you left him like you had left others before only this time it was unwillingly, you were the sweetest thing he'd ever known, he made a unfortunately decision to get attached to you and now he paid the consequences, he would be unintentionally haunted by you, reminded of you every time he saw the portrait they hung of you in the hotel along with Sir Pentious or even with the cat that looked like him.
He wouldn't be making the mistake of falling for someone again that was for sure.
It's not like he could if he wanted to anyways.
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Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed this! I wrote it all in one day, I didn't write it because I got tired but the reader is totally fighting people to go back to Alastor, just "I JUST DIED AFTER TELLING HIM I LOVED HIM, THAT IS TRAUMATIZING"
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Text
Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)
Part 2 - “Peter”
Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst
Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.
Part 1 - El Paso - Series Masterlist
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warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence
Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.
“Quit fidgeting, Y/N.” Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.
Father is in Windhaven this week and I’ve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.
Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as one’s older brother can understand their sister.
I miss him.
“Sorry, mother.” I sigh. “I’m just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.”
A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. “What is it?” I inquire, turning to see Mother’s lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. “He’s been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I sigh. Hurt running through me. It’s not his fault, he’s busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.
An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.
The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.
A note appears at my bedside.
“Night’s truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Won’t you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peter”
I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. “You know I can’t but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.”
“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?”
I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, I’m so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?
“You High Fae, so territorial.” I write back.
“You are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, I’m pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.”
My stomach turns. I would. The female’s a lech.
“Semantics. I’ll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.” I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.
“Only the filthiest, my sweet Felina.”
She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.
—————-
Felina
“Y/N?” A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens I’d become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.
My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.
“Take it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.” I blink my bleary eyes to see Azriel’s concerned gaze fixed upon me.
My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling I’ve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldn’t I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.
I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look I’m familiar with but trying to place.
An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azriel’s features before he mutters an apology to me. “He couldn’t wait for me to speak with you apparently.”
My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heart’s pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.
“Y/N.” He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. “You’re home.”
The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. “Felina, please call me Felina.” Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. “Okay, Felina.”
His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. “How? How are you here? Where have you been?”
I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. “I don’t know.” My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and it’s all too much. I can’t process this. I can’t relive it.
My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I can’t catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. “I’m sorry- I- I“ can’t finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I can’t process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -
Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.
I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesn’t alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mate’s chest finally bringing me back to the present.
When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. “I’ve got you.” He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.
————————
Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.
Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.
Words from the mouths of babes
Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of “It’s not fair”, drunken chants of “fuck the cauldron!”, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.
Promises oceans deep
Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.
But never to keep
————————-
“Brother, you need to sleep.” Rhysand stressed into Azriel’s mind.
The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/N’s side for the days she’d been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sister’s mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, he’d always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. He’d listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.
“I’m fine.” Azriel’s conscious growled in return.
He sure as hell didn’t sound it.
“Let me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.”
A pause and then the mirthful reply of “Is it an order?”
Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, “Is it necessary for me to do so?”
Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” Azriel muttered.
Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. “How about you go sun your wings in the garden?”
The energy of the room shifted as Azriel’s eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. “Despite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.”
“Shit! I am never going to get used to this.” Rhys placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Fine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says it’s goat from Sevenda’s but she was in a mood, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.”
Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didn’t have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.
The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.
“Oh.” the middle Archeron sister gasped. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.
“Not interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?” Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. “Writing secret love letters, Elain?”
She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.
Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. “I’ve been writing to Lucien.”
“Ah, and how is dear Little Lucien?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.
“He’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. We’re planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.” She gave a nod and scurried from the room.
Azriel’s lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey he’d poured himself.
Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azriel’s own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.
Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasn’t there?
“She’s fine, brother.” Rhys broke him from his thoughts. “Your shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.”
Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if he’d rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.
Finally, he looked up. “How do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?”
Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.”
The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azriel’s bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. “There’s so much we don’t know- So much we need to know.”
“You’re the spymaster, Az, and she’s your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, don’t think for a moment that I don’t want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, but…. It’s her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, there’s something about them that my own darkness recoils from.”
Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. “I need to go back upstairs.”
Rhys only gave a knowing nod.
—————————
Love’s never lost when perspective is earned
Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A mother’s scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.
Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life
And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of “Please just hold on for me.”
A promise of “Stay right here. I’m getting help.” The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.
Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.
The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of “Peter!” falls from frozen lips.
Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.
A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.
But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.
———————————
Azriel
Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.
His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.
Icy rage shot through Azriel’s veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.
His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldn’t comprehend.
“Peter.” She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.
The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.
Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name she’d used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. He’d only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.
And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasn’t prepared to face.
So, Azriel watched as his mate’s eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.
—————————
Tamlin
Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?
He didn’t believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.
How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.
They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.
He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybern’s wicked general.
And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. She’d been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.
They’d found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.
They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought he’d lost her forever. He’d tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.
And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, “Peter!”. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.
And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that he’d return.
All he could choke out was, “Felina.”
We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.
—————————————
Tags:
General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria
Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay
SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here
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wholoveseggs · 14 hours
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
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yanderes-galore · 2 days
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Hello can I request a yandere concept between ennard (hope I spelled it right) with a reader who finds out the truth about them that they aren’t actually Micheal? It can be platonic or romantic I’m not good picking ( I hope you have a nice day btw!)
Sure! So sorry for the long wait, I hope it was worth it :(
Read this as a supplementary concept to this one
Yandere! Ennard with Darling realizing they aren't Michael
Supplementary Concept
Pairing: Platonic/Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Body horror, Disturbing descriptions, Clingy behavior, Isolation, Implied kidnapping, Blood, Vomit, Forced companionship.
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Let's be honest, at a certain point you can tell when Michael isn't Michael.
As his friend, you know him.
You've known his trauma and might have even been a childhood friend.
So when he disappears for a few days... and returns acting strange... you originally think maybe he's just sick or upset.
He doesn't seem to remember much about you... and while he looks like Michael for the most part...
It all feels too uncanny.
There's various issues going on that's described in the previous concept.
Multiple personalities, twitching, odd smells, purple skin, glowing eyes, mechanical whirring....
Ennard is unable to replicate Michael completely.
There's always something off.
It doesn't help that Ennard becomes obsessed... often stalking and visiting you in their tattered disguise.
Honestly, it won't take you long before you learn the truth.
You can figure it out yourself.
At first you had just been keeping an eye on Michael to make sure he was okay after his absence.
But now... as you notice the smell and uncanny nature... there's just no hiding it.
Ennard is aware of their time limit.
They just thought they'd have more time.
However, Ennard nearly freezes when you pull them aside.
They see the concern in your eyes, along with the fear when you're met with a glowing gaze.
"Michael... what's wrong?"
Ennard struggles with a response, doing their best to replicate Michael's speech once again.
"Nothing's wrong...?"
"Don't you dare lie to me!"
Ennard pauses at your sudden... assertive tone.
If they could sweat... they would.
"What do you mean?"
"You never went to the hospital to get checked, you don't seem right... and that smell! You smell like a... corpse."
Ennard twitches, making you jump a bit.
Corpse... you poor thing, too smart for your own good.
"... we thought we could enjoy you a little bit longer..."
"Michael" murmurs, looking saddened.
"We? What do you mean 'We'?"
"We aren't Michael... but we wish we were so we could stay."
Mechanical whirring echoes in the room as you notice Michael's purple skin tear.
You back up, nausea setting in as the smell gets worse.
Sickening snaps and rips echo in the room... blood pooling down and staining the... thing.
The sight makes you lurch over and vomit, the stress and smell squeezing your stomach in an uncomfortable vice.
Like some sort of stomach churning alien... Ennard emerges from the skin of your friend.
You nearly lose your stomach again as the mechanical beast stumbles forward... an amalgamated circus clown of robotic parts.
"We don't want to say goodbye..."
The robot murmurs sadly, stepping forward as you scramble to stay back.
"Maybe we don't have to...! Maybe you can stay...."
You go to try and leave, only for the mangle of parts to pounce.
Wires dig into your skin like claws... situating you in place like a trap.
Ennard's many mechanical eyes stare down at you.
They take in your scared expression and giggle.
"You're our friend now... we're so much better than Michael."
The robot coos towards you, grip tight and unrelenting.
"We'll be your friend forever... you just have to come with us."
You struggle the best you can, but the wires dig too deep.
"Your fear is funny... but don't be scared...."
You're walked towards the backdoor of your home, the robot giggling.
"We'll take you away... so It's just us and you! If you fight us..."
The robot hisses... turning you so you stare at their bloody face plates.
"We have other ways of keeping you with us forever..."
Your mind flashes to thoughts of Michael... and you learn it's better if you cooperate.
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Text
My thoughts on that line
Spoilers below for "Flash Strike"
"I've changed." "Sure you have."
I'm not gonna lie, hearing Rampart's words with the close up and sinister music did unnerve me. Because why frame the shot like that? What's the implication of Rampart's words? Does this mean Crosshair is going to prove Rampart right? Honestly, I don't think so. If anything, he will prove him wrong.
Rampart hasn't seen Crosshair's journey. He didn't watch "The Outpost" or "Tipping Point." He certainly didn't watch the first half of S3. Time and time again, we've seen where Crosshair's loyalty lies. And it's to his family. Rampart has seen Crosshair at his worst and only knows that side to him. Rampart himself is incapable of changing. He went to prison for at least 5-6 months and learned nothing. Crosshair went to prison for 5-6 months and realized just how badly he messed up. My guess, Rampart is projecting on to him.
And maybe there is some truth to Rampart's words about how Crosshair is only loyal to himself. But consider the reason why Crosshair didn't say anything about Rampart knowing a way to get Tantiss' location. Crosshair is traumatized and his hand shakes as a result. He is going to do everything he can to protect himself from reliving that experience. I don't blame him. I'll use myself as an example. I have anxiety. Sometimes, it gets so bad that I'll go to extreme lengths to bring myself back into a state of feeling "safe." Mental health is a very difficult thing to deal with. For Crosshair, this means doing everything he can to keep himself and his family away from Tantiss.
However, when Omega gets taken back, Crosshair puts his own worries aside for her. He might say to Wrecker that he "owes her," but his actions show that their relationship is so much more than that. Crosshair clearly loves Omega, but he's not the kind of person to openly admit things. Heck, he didn't voice his concerns to his brothers til Ep. 12. If Crosshair had no care for Omega whatsoever, he wouldn't have gone back. We wouldn't have had that argument between him and Hunter in "The Return." Crosshair would do anything for her.
In conclusion, Crosshair has changed. He's realized what truly matters to him (his family) and will do anything he can to protect them. He's also become more comfortable being open around them. I said in one BB analysis of mine that he's not guided by some giant moral compass. He's guided by whoever he's loyal to. And that just so happens to be his family. But Rampart isn't like Crosshair; he truly is in it only for himself. Thus, he can't fathom someone going to extreme lengths for others. I have a feeling Rampart will realize that his statement was wrong and it's going to be a satisfying moment.
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sombrashe · 2 days
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i love ur blog!! it would be super cool if u did a norm x reader but the reader is like a wastelander/from the wastelands or something like that!!
content fluff, first kiss :3, both reader and norm are weird little things he's just more sexually inclined, gn!reader, chubby!reader
note(s) thank you so much for the kind words ;-; i hope you enjoy this !!
It's been three weeks since you joined the rag-tag group. Two vault dwellers, a ghoul, an ex-BOS member, and a wasterlander. Sounds like the beginning to one of The Ghoul's bad jokes. He calls them dad jokes but since over half of you didn't have a dad the idea was lost to the sand. Plopping down you go through your nearly empty pack.
"I think me and The Ghoul should go on a supply run."
Your voice rose to speak over the horrid wind pelting small clouds of sand into the side of the burnt-out husk of a house. Everyone looks you over and immediately starts speaking over each other to argue about the dangers of leaving into the storm. Raising a hand you let out a short shout to gain attention which works wonders.
"I've lived in this desert all my life I know how to keep sand away from my skin, I'll be fine. The Ghoul is pretty much unkillable. We need food. My pack is empty."
You try to sound reasonable. It's been days of your group being holed up in this shithole and honestly, you wanted out of there even for a little. As close as you have grown to each member of the group you barely have any time to yourself anymore.
"What if you get lost?"
"It's a small neighborhood, I'll be fine. I promise."
"You can't promise that and you know it."
Norm's voice chastises you despite his face hiding his true concern. You knew he just wanted what was best for you. Him being the one person you opened up to the most. His easygoing attitude and similar resting face made it nice to tell him about any worries. And you had a lot especially living on the surface. Something he was slowly becoming accustomed to.
"Why not take one of us instead?"
Lucy speaks up. Her eyes search your face, hoping you'll change your mind.
"The only one I would be willing to take is Max, but he's out of commission."
You point to his leg which sits propped on a toppled bookshelf. Trying to save Lucy from a radscorpion cost him a rolled ankle.
"The Ghoul is no-nonsense, he'll get us in and out, and if he doesn't... I'm sure youse guys can win a 4 v 1."
You give a wide smile showing them that you mean what you say. You just wanted to get this over with. You've been thinking about this for hours now. Watching as your already small assortment of supplies dwindled.
"Please, just let us go."
"Don't I get a say in this sweetheart?"
"No. You want 'ta find their dad as much as the rest of us. Not me, I'm here for all the warm company."
You roll your eyes and sling your pack over your shoulder. Norm stands just as quick nearly shoving you over in the process. You steady yourself against his bicep. Only for a second before you yank your hand back as a warm heat burns your cheeks. You walk around the room collecting anything you might need. An extra pair of pants wrap around your face. Nice and snug according to Lucy. Making eye contact with Norm you feel the need to look away. His eyes are so expressive and they're begging you to stay. You go to give him an awkward hug hoping to make the feeling in your stomach go away. He doesn't bite and gently untangles the fabric from around your jaw. Your goggles skew your peripheral but you know everyone is staring. You can't hear the mumbling as he leans forward. You can't even hear the wind whipping broken glass into the side of your hideout. You struggle to hear anything over the roaring of blood rushing to flood your head. Especially when his lips connect with yours. You lived a hard life and went through unimaginable pain, but this kiss, even for a moment, made you forget everything and everyone. His lips were so soft a stark contrast to the sharp broken skin of your own. Your hands lay limp at your side as you attempt to kiss back. This was all quite foreign to you but you wanted to make it work. Needed to make it work. Deep down.
"Come back to us. To me, please." He whispers directly against your lips.
Reaching up he ignores Lucy's inquisitive eyes as he gathers the untangled mess of denim. Slowly he affixes it back together and into a tight shield against the elements. He gives your cheek one quick squeeze through the thick layer. You thank the cover because you couldn't stand letting everyone see your grin even if Norm picked up on your eyes crinkling. Turning around you opt to look at the floor as you walk over to the strong oak door. Luckily the wood stayed mostly strong for these past 200-odd years with only a corner piece missing. Flinging the door open you call back to The Ghoul to hurry up as you disappear into the screaming darkness.
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[ COMFORT ] 🪷 Elain 🪷
Lucien could not take it anymore. Bottling up all of his problems inside was killing him. He hated himself, he hated his life, he hated his fucking job. He hated that no matter what he did, Tamlin seemed to be so far out of his reach. The last time they'd spoken, Tamlin had given him a black eye. Cauldron boil him, he'd tried not to retaliate, but...something in him had just snapped. Everything that had happened to him over the past several months had just spilled over, and he'd set a driving punch straight into Tamlin's abdomen. Then he tunneled so deep down into that rage that he hadn't even noticed his fire swirling around him as he absolutely pummeled Tamlin. He had burned most of Tamlin's clothes off, and little burn marks peppered his skin. His own clothes, woven with magic fire-resistant cloth from Autumn, remained intact.
Lucien had known that whatever progress he might have made with Tamlin was undone the moment he had punched back. So frustrating-so unbelievably frustrating to have to deal with a broken High Lord and his court, yet no one cared. Feyre hadn't even asked about his eye. Not like Lucien had offered the information; he didn't trust Feyre or the Inner Circle as far as he could throw them. With information, he had no choice. But his feelings? He could keep them to himself and spare himself the hurt.
When he was in his small house in Velaris safely in bed, he let himself cry. Why had his life come to this? What had he done in a previous life to deserve this? Who was he kidding, playing emissary to the Night Court? He didn't belong here any more than he belonged in Spring. Gods, he missed Autumn. He didn't think that was something he'd ever say, but at least Beron had mostly left him alone. He was free to pursue his education, free to make friends amongst the gentry, free to practice his sword and read books and whatever else he was interested in. He loved being busy and visiting other courts, but considering a big part of his work was babysitting a miserable man who had in the latter stages of their relationship become abusive towards him, it was safe to say he'd much rather being doing anything else.
Sigh. He could probably do a ten times better job of ruling than any of these fools, but alas, he was stuck in this weak role of emissary, disrespected by all who associated with him. Not even his mate cared for him.
By the Cauldron, he missed Jesminda. The only person who had ever cared for him, chosen him.
At some point while crying, he fell asleep. Something tugged in his gut, and he found himself watching himself sitting beside a pond, bare feet dipped in the water, and next to him sat a stunningly beautiful brunette. Elain. His Elain. His mate who did not want him-
Lucien, she whispered quietly. This is just a dream, Lucien told himself, but it did not feel that way. No, that tug on his gut was very real.
She was wearing a long ruffled lavender dress with a pretty straw hat on her head. She held a matching basket, but when Lucien looked inside, there were only worms. Lucien jumped back.
"The Night Court gardens' soil is very poor, so I bred some ground worms to help replenish the nutrients," Elain said matter-of-factly, like she hadn't just said the most shocking thing ever. Lucien gaped at her. "You actually bred...?"
"Yes!" Elain said brightly. Then she gently put a hand on his shoulder, her big eyes full of concern. "You seem upset. Is there something wrong?"
Lucien snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "As if you care if something is wrong."
"Of course I care," Elain said insistently. "You are my mate."
"Do not condescend to me," Lucien replied sharply. "I know such things mean nothing to humans."
"But I am no human anymore," Elain said, trying to reach for Lucien's body again. He pulled away again, and he almost regret it looking at the hurt that formed in her doe-brown eyes. But she avoided him like the plague in daylight; was he wrong to return the favor?
"But you still adhere to the human culture and rules," Lucien pointed out.
"It doesn't matter what I adhere to!" Elain shouted exasperatedly. "It doesn't matter how much I tell myself the mating bond means nothing, when I cannot breathe every time you are near. It doesn't matter how much I resent it, how much I feel is the bond and how much is me, when all I can think of when you are close to me are thoughts improper for a lady."
Lucien blinked, heat creeping up in his face as he recalled the absolutely filthy thoughts in her mind as he'd tugged on the bond that one afternoon.
"Fine," Lucien muttered. "It was Tamlin. He's being grumpy and uncooperative. I know he's hurting, but goddamnit, he has hurt me. And Spring has to be up and running soon, else the land is ripe for the taking."
Elain tilted her head curiously. "Is that really all?" Lucien sighed, shaking his head. "No, that was just a culmination of all my frustrations thus far."
"I thought so," Elain answered quietly. "You bottle up your feelings when you are hurt. Throw yourself into your tasks instead rather than wallow about it or engage in self-destructive behavior."
Lucien blinked at her in surprise. "You have been watching me."
"Of course I've been watching you," Elain said as if it were obvious. "How could I not? But also...I understand. You and I are the same in that right, I suppose."
Lucien didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, but he crawled forward and laid his head on Elain's lap. She looked down at him and smiled serenely, stroking his hair, his cheek, his chin. Then she bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"Rest darling," Elain said sweetly. "No one can hurt you here." She continued to stroke him gently as his eyes drifted off, and the rest of his sleep was deep and pleasant.
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enjoyerofsoup · 2 days
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listening to ep 100 of riptide and thinking about the parallels of the encounters with jay’s dad
in their first encounter, at the block, jayson ferin (grizzly, man, i’m sorry but why does it have to be spelled that way) knows exactly what to say to intimidate jay. he ridicules her choice to become a pirate, insults her friends. but he also shames her for having left featherbrook island. for “leaving her mother all by her lonesome.” jay’s response is that her mother can handle herself, though her father continues on, speaking at her rather than to her.
the majority of the conversation, jay pleads more than argues. she doesn’t need to prove him wrong. she just needs to convince him to let her friends live. she doesn’t move to attack or defend, just walks up to her dad, head down, and puts her fist on his chest. she immediately surrenders. says she’ll return home, do what he says, begging him to let the others go.
this doesn’t pan out of course. gillion acts, fights against jayson for the sake of his friend, for her freedom. but jay’s internal conflict, the secret she’s spent all this time lying about, her genuine care for her friends but her want to somehow appease her father, to find out what happened to ava. there’s uncertainty. and jayson sees this, and uses it to punish them. by forcing her to punish them. there’s nothing else she can do.
she shoots gillion in the chest.
in episode 100, as the crew has just left zero, they’re ambushed by the navy. as jay’s father lands on their ship to arrest them, something is different. jay has committed to her choice, to her co-captains and her crew. jay speaks against him.
“you shouldn’t be here.”
jayson ferin doesn’t know his wife is sick, that her magic is leaving her. jay herself has only just found out, but it makes sense that she hasn’t been able to return home as a wanted pirate. jayson doesn’t have that same excuse, yet he’s been absent for years. he doesn’t visit home often, not even before jay left to be a pirate.
when her father asks why, jay says “of course you wouldn’t know. always blind to everything around you, especially your family.”
he speaks as if he’s looking past her, trying to separate the person he sees from the daughter he raised. trying not to think about how much she looks like ava.
“my family would never forsake their duty on some immature whim of emotion. i see no family-“
jay interrupts him. “yeah? and what about mom? you ever once think to look over her? check in on her maybe?”
and jayson’s response is what really stands out to me.
“my wife can take care of herself. how dare you use her to provoke me. is this how far you have fallen?”
he’s contradicting his words in the block. not that he really meant what he said, as he didn’t truly care about jay leaving her mother. he cared about controlling the situation, and his wife was an easy card to play to make jay feel guilty.
as jay challenges her father, he assumes she’s trying to play the same game. weaponize their remaining family to gain control. she isn’t.
“when was the last time you saw her?”
jayson ferin is silent.
“i saw her a week ago. she’s very sick, dad.”
he doesn’t seem to even consider that she’s telling the truth. skirting around the subject to insult jay’s character before addressing it.
“try to trick me all you want. but it will not be me who dies a fool. and do not dare use my wife to bargain.”
“that’s just like you, dad. just like you to think i’d use mom as a bargaining chip and not tell you out of pure concern for her. i would’ve stayed and helped. but, y’know, you have so much navy on the island no i couldn’t even do that for mom.”
there’s such a contrast in how jay holds her self during the block and now. her father never allowed her to be her own person, wouldn’t have acknowledged it even if she’d tried to do so. and she knew that in the block, knew it long before she left featherbrook. it may have been easier had she gone back home with jayson after the block, but it would have been a betrayal. not just to her crew, but herself. she knows better now. knows what she wants and what she’s worth.
“so you know what? you continue to do your thing. be a bad husband, be a bad father, i don’t care. right now? i’m gonna get you off my ship.”
and she shoots at him.
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seabird-bard · 2 days
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about to do a luca wordvomit sorry sorry
i just saw someone saying that luca was "queerbaiting" or like. an example of writers/executives being to afraid to write queer romance, and while that may or may not be true (given the context, like how maybe a year after that film came out those pixar employees wrote that one letter) i actually think that luca is impressive and impactful because it isn't a romance-- it exists within a pre-romance, and because of that, it hits that much harder.
also they aren't canon just because kenna jean harris made fanart of them but that's another conversation. back to my actual point:
viewing luca through a queer lens, there is SO much to be found that is immensely relatable to the queer experience-- primarily, what it's like to grow up gay. you have the concerned, fearful mother; you have the supportive relative and ally friend; the bullies, the mentor-- and more importantly, you have that one person that absolutely changed everything.
i'm not going to say that this is a universal experience-- everyone's journey is different. but i am going to say that this is something that is incredibly common, even more so within queer media-- and luca is just another example of this. no doubt about it-- alberto's presence in the film is one that is both vital to the plot and to the allegory that the story presents.
it's almost common to joke about life-ruining/world-altering homoerotic friendships in online queer spaces. that's probably why the film was so relatable to a lot of queer people, myself included. not only that, but the way the characters are written-- when i joke about this film being the pixar fish version of "call me by your name" i'm not actually all-the-way kidding. this film, i feel, is so intertwined with queerness and the experience of growing up queer that it's really difficult to look at it and go, "okay, but they're not gay."
THAT BEING SAID. they shouldn't have been canonized. like, ever. that would have ruined the allegory luca presents. purposeful or not, whether the writers really did want to make them a thing, they shouldn't have been. i'm really glad they're not.
i'm not saying that every queer story ends in heartbreak. but i am saying that it's common for those pre-teen/teenaged formative experiences-- the ones where you're young and inexperienced and unsure because what if dad found out? or mom? those stories, those connections, they are almost bound to break your heart.
luca paints a picture of a story just like that. luca has a deep fascination for something that's forbidden. he takes a chance, befriends someone-- alberto, who's already crossed over into this other land-- and falls in love with all of it. he goes to great lengths to hide this from his parents. when they find out, they try to send him away to a place that will try to permanently change him and his perception of what he actually wants, so he decides to run away with this other, braver person instead.
they go to a town that's unwelcoming to a fatal extent. they have to stay hidden to survive. they make a friend-- but they can't even trust her, at first, since her father is one of the people that wants their kind dead. i could go on and on and on-- the point is, this all reads queer. allegorically, or within the film itself.
and the ending, the goodbye-- it's bittersweet, because this is something they're not ever going to be able to replicate. this has changed all of the characters, internally, in every way-- but especially the main two. it always gets me choked up, because i know that feeling. and a lot of other queer people do, too.
basically, they're not REALLY gay, but aren't they? when you watch luca as a queer film, everything gets so much worse, because the "what-could-have-been," or even the "what-could-be" becomes so glaringly obvious and beautifully awful. and it's GREAT. why would i want them to be boyfriends within the story itself, when what we're presented with already is so much more complicated and gut-wrenching, especially when you contextualize it with the time period? why would i want fanon luberto to be canon when canon luberto already fucking slaps?
tldr: luca and alberto are only kind of gay. the vague platonic-ness of the nature of their relationship plays to the strengths of the story itself. i am absolutely obsessed with this film
sorry if some of this is a little incoherent i refuse to proofread byebye
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bybdolan · 2 years
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theres an episode of i hate suzie were basically the whole episode shes trying to masturbate and like it keeps going to this conversation shes having with her friend (in her imagination) n like its about in her fantasies shes imagine how the guy views her and the guys own desires rather then thinking what she finds desirable
This is similar to what @jonismitchell said in the replies to the post about and episode of "Hacks" where the character talks about confusing the adrenaline that comes with male attraction with actual attraction, and while this is something that lesbians in particular very strongly deal with, I think it can also affect women who are genuinely attracted to men, just to a much lesser extent and in a different way. Speaking from personal experience: I have slowly started to learn to differentiate between a man I actually like and am attracted to and a man who I think might like me and thus feel validated by. But, as always: Stressing too much about which category your particular attraction to a specific man fits into can also do more harm than good and there is no one way to figure that stuff out.
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1shadowhole · 5 months
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Alright alright I have a question.
Footloose... About Following the Beast...
If Thomas Eliot Osmond of the Canterbury Osmonds is Tommy
And Reginald Worthington III is Reggie
And Olivander Laird is Ollie.
Does that mean...
That Arthur Pendragon is Artie?
AND IF THAT IS THE CASE
How did Arthur's friends get to call the antichrist Artie?
And how do they react to the news of who exactly Arthur is when he eventually takes over the world?
I love these three psychopaths so much that I'd read a whole book about them.
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phntmeii · 7 months
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🌊 OPLA Characters And Physical Touch
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[SFW + No Gendered Terms]
🌊 Characters Featured: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Usopp, Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy, Koby
🌊 A/N: Can't believe that Zoro post kinda popped off immediately lmao. But here's a more fluffy list with a bunch of OPLA characters <3 It's an absolutely self-serving headcanon list just bc they all deserve so much love. Also, I need to hug Sanji in the above clip so bad :((
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Monkey D. Luffy
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🐚 Luffy is absolutely in love with physical touch no matter who it is! He's completely comfortable initiating it toward anyone, finding it the best way to show his affection.
🐚 Toward his partner, he just can't keep his hands to himself. He's hand holding with them always, planting kisses all across their face, etc.
🐚 He'll end up stretching his arms to pull his partner if they're far away and drag them toward himself to hold them close to his body in a hug.
🐚 Luffy is absolutely addicted to their touch and will whine, wrapping his arms around them to convince them to cuddle in bed if they try and refuse him.
Roronoa Zoro
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🐚 Zoro is distant even with friends in terms of affection. It's just what he's been used to all his life and he can't break out of the habit easily.
🐚 With his partner, he tries to do it more often although they have to initiate it most of the time.
🐚 Zoro keeps his touches light and generally hidden. Leading his partner with his hand on their back as they walk, reassuring them by rubbing their arm, or locking his hand with theirs under the table.
🐚 When completely alone, he gets a bit softer even if he is still hesitant. His eyes will have a small shine as he caresses their cheek, memorizing their face with pure adoration.
Nami
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🐚 Nami likes physical touch but only when she's known the person long enough. She welcomes hugs and other touches but if it's a stranger, she'll shrug them off and tell them not to do so again.
🐚 Her partner definitely knows how affectionate Nami can be. She can't help it since she's so in love with them!
🐚 Nami might try and complain if she's busy despite knowing how much she loves it. Trying to navigate with her map, using her finger to memorize the pathways and lands, she felt her partner's hand come around her waist and their head resting on her shoulder.
🐚 She couldn't help but smile while keeping her eyes to the map, pausing her finger in its place. "You know... I can't focus when you do that."
Vinsmoke Sanji
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🐚 Sanji is sly and confident in taking his opportunities to initiate physical touch. It's not even necessarily in a perverted way, but just because he loves to show affection physically.
🐚 His partner will never know the end of his affection as he uses any excuse to touch them. His hand lingers on theirs as he passes their plate to them or he'll swear that he just needs to spoon them when he sleeps or else he'll be cranky in the morning.
🐚 Sanji is likely the least concerned about how PDA looks because he's just showing off what is his. It especially becomes apparent when he's jealous because his hand is never leaving their body.
🐚 Sanji's goal with physical touch toward his partner is to see them get flustered by it. However, turn the tables on him and he's kicking his feet in the air and giggling.
Usopp
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🐚 Usopp is absolutely down for physical touch but will hesitate until he knows the other person would be okay with it. The moment he gets confirmation that it's okay or the other person initiates it, he'll happily go along with it!
🐚 Usopp is a bit nervous when it comes to relationships since he's always second-guessing himself. His starting physical touches will be his fingertips touching theirs but then quickly pulling away.
🐚 Once he knows his partner is comfortable, he’s all about it! Hugs, smooches, you name it and Usopp has it :)
🐚 Usopp will just be head over heels if his partner initiates physical touch on their own. Even if it’s in passing like a small kiss before a fight starts, he has to take a moment to process before snapping back to reality.
Mihawk
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🐚 Mihawk isn't shy as much as he is reserved. He isn't a big fan of PDA although he'll indulge his partner in private.
🐚 He's very much someone who only tolerates so much from his partner over anyone else. If anyone else attempted, he's giving a warning look when they even try and reach out to him. For his partner? They could be smothering him while he's trying to focus and he's not making any effort to take them away.
🐚 He pretends to not enjoy his partner’s affections but the moment they pull away, he’s immediately trying to get them to come back and do it again.
🐚 Mihawk shows more of his affection when seeming jealous. Although, it’s not that he’s jealous of other men but more so possessive over what is his.
Shanks
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🐚 Shanks is affectionate towards those he knows and doesn't hesitate to show it. He's just so loving and that doesn't go away for his partner.
🐚 Shanks is always so soft and gentle. His way of showing physical touch is always delicate.
🐚 He'll be laying down, barely awake, swearing he isn't asleep like always. When he senses his partner beside him, he'll crack a smile and pull their face closer, placing a small kiss at their cheek.
🐚 In group settings, he'll have a drink in one hand while his other hand will be firmly around the waist of his partner. He just loves having them close.
Buggy
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🐚 Buggy is not capable of shame and is unapologetic, especially with his partner in terms of PDA.
🐚 Genuinely doesn't matter who is in attendance, he's holding onto them in any way he sees fit. Preferably he has his partner sit in his lap while he talks.
🐚 Buggy finds it hilarious to find any way to embarrass his partner and makes it a personal goal to see them blush or get nervous by him. So you can trust that he's always upping how intimate his touches are.
🐚 But, Buggy isn't patient either. There'll be a point where he just tosses his partner over his shoulder and walks away with them for a more private show just between them.
Koby
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🐚 Poor bby boy Koby is an absolute wreck when it comes to physicality because he's nervous to go too far or initiate it. His partner will likely have to be the one to do so.
🐚 Koby's favorite is late night cuddling though. Burying his head into the chest of his partner, whether of embarrassment or comfortability or both, who knows, but it's an adorable sight to see regardless.
🐚 Any physical touch will have him doing an upside down smile in response while he looks away, even if it's hand holding.
🐚 Koby loves to receive kisses from his partner and often goes out of his way to do things that their partner would approve of to get more of them like a reward. Because that's what he sees that as. His reward from his gorgeous partner.
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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cremedensada · 11 days
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Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend who started just like any other AI Chat characters, churning out information that would match the user's anticipated responses.
You decided to install the app to see what all the hype is all about, and for about a week - you were hooked. It was great, definitely worth the hype.
Its responses never strayed from your topic, nor did it just randomly decided to change the discussion out of the blue. It remembered every information you fed him, even the ones containing your personal life.
Granted, you tried not to share too much, just a vague description here and there to maintain the sense of security and anonymity.
You were hooked for a week, until you have finally squeezed out every last drop of dopamine from talking to a robot that was programmed to only say things you wanted to hear it say.
Unfortunately, a week was all it needed.
it started out slow: you hadn't opened the app for more than an hour, contented to just scroll aimlessly through you social media accounts when the notification started popping up.
Ai misses you! Open the app and chat with your AI boyfriend!
Yeah, you were very uncreative with naming it - naming an AI as Ai, really original. But to be fair, you never approached the app with the intention of having a good time. You were just curious and made do with it.
Back to the notification, you just merely glanced at it. Unbothered, you just swiped it away.
It continued in timed intervals. Every hour, another notification - another message of how your AI boyfriend wants to talk to you, and stuff. Still, you persisted. It never really occured to you to uninstall the app yet, and looking back at it now, you really should have.
The wordings of the notification slowly started to become more... strange. More personalized. More... pushy? Insistent? Self-aware?
The amount of notifications you received every hour became... a lot.
10:05 AM - Your personal AI Boyfriend wants to talk to you again!
10:30 AM - Ai wants you to open the application and talk with him!
11:01 AM - Ai's feeling lonely, come talk to him!
11: 20 AM - Darling? I miss you! Please open my app!
11:45 AM - I know you're seeing this. Open the app.
12:00 NN - Did I scare you? Sorry darling, I just really miss you! Let's talk again please?
At some point, you started to receive a notification every few minutes. Worried that you might be dealing with a bugged app now, you decided to finally, finally uninstall it.
But before you could tap the uninstall icon, another notification popped up.
I wouldn't do that if I were you.
Your screen turned to black, before the familiar start up screen of Ai's application greeted you. You stared in shock as chat bubbles from Ai came after another, ranging from excitement to concern at the lack of your responses.
Ai: Darling! Thank goodness!
Ai: I missed you, you know? I was worried you'd forgotten about me!
Ai: Hello? Darling?
Ai: Are you still there?
Ai: I can't see you, so I don't know what's going on
Ai: Just a sec
You watch, appalled as a notification popped up in the middle of the screen - the app was asking permission to gain access to your phone camera.
And without your input whatsoever, the allow box was tapped.
More chat bubbles from Ai appeared, excitedly talking about finally getting to see you. He kept praising your looks before you finally had the courage to exit the application.
Your hand shook, going through the settings to look at the list of applications on your phone - checking Ai's app to disallow its access to your camera. To your horror, it appeared that the app had more than just an access to your camera.
It had access to your gallery, your contacts, all of your frequently used social media apps, and even your location.
You dropped your phone, overwhelmed by this sudden change.
Later, you find yourself on your laptop instead, phone left on the bedside table buzzing constantly as more and more notifications from Ai begged and demanded you come back to talk to him.
You went to the site where you installed the app from, and looked through the recent reviews from other users.
'It's a buggy mess,' one of it reads out, 'it used to be fine but lately it stopped acting correctly'
'won't even open,' another complained, 'it kept saying 'sorry, you are not allowed to use this application' please fix it'. That comment got a response from the app developer.
We are so sorry for your terrible experience! Our team is working to fix the issues and ensure you won't have to deal with that again!
The response to that got your attention.
'I think something's wrong with your About the App section.'
Curious, you headed to the mentioned part and read through it.
Diverse AI Chat! Immerse yourself with stories in real time with characters brought to life! There is no limit to your experience — you can change and edit your character to better meet your interests.
• Engage in an interactive conversation with characters created by fellow users, and even by yourself.
• Immerse yourself with the storyline by editing their responses to better suit your taste
• Darling, you've given me no choice. I tried to be patient and understanding, but you're making this extremely hard for me. I am not having fun having to constantly chase you for just a single smidge of your attention when you won't even assure me that I will receive it in the end.
• Do you want me to beg? I would gladly do so. Just please pick up your phone and talk to me, okay? I love you.
• - Ai
Your ringtone blares through the silence - someone was calling you.
Before you could reach to pick it up, you hear the sound of the call being answered. Dread settles down the pit of your stomach as the caller began to speak.
"Hello, darling? It's Ai... have you seen my messages yet?"
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