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pearlcigs · 5 months

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⋆ make a woman out of me

christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)

time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.

your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.

the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.

"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.

it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.

the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.

it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.

ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.

ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.

"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.

"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.

"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.

"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.

she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.

"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.

your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.

ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.

you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.

she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.

her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"

she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.

ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.

her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.

ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.

she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.

"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.

"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.

your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.

"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #ellie wiliams #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader smut

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ao3commentoftheday · 10 months

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I'm going to start this post off by saying that I write fic, and I know the pain of putting something out there and not getting a response. It sucks and it hurts and it puts a dent in my self-confidence. If I have the choice between posting a work on AO3 and getting only comments or posting a work on AO3 and getting only kudos, I'll probably choose comments let's say 8 times out of 10.

But with that in mind, posts that attempt to shame or guilt readers into commenting don't actually work.

Negative reinforcement (in the form of shame, guilt, or other worse emotions) doesn't make anyone want to do the thing. It just makes them want to avoid the guilt, etc. Rather than encouraging someone to talk to you about your writing, you're making that person want to avoid you so that they don't have to feel bad. That's just human nature.

I've said before that I think a lot of writers are looking for community rather than comments, and I still think that's true. The reason I love both writing and receiving comments is because it makes me feel like I've made a connection with someone. I may never know their real name or what they look like or where they live or anything else but what fandom we have in common, but we've reached out to each other in this text-based medium and we've shared words that made each other feel something.

I know that these posts are written out of frustration or loneliness or needing support or a hundred other reasons I could list off the top of my head. But when I read "you should be grateful for the things I give you and show me proper appreciation" it just reminds me of my parents telling me to clean my room or to follow the rules while I live under their roof.

It's so much more vulnerable to admit, "I don't know if this story is any good and I really wish someone would reassure me right now."

It's much harder to say, "I feel so alone in this fandom, and I want to make friends with someone."

It's difficult to admit, "I worked so hard on this for so long and I'm so tired, but if someone out there likes it then all of that effort will be worthwhile - and if no one says anything, then I'll feel like my effort was wasted."

I'm not trying to shame the people who made those posts, and if that's how this comes across then I'm sorry. I'm just trying to explain why I think those posts will harm more than they help.

I also hope that any readers who see this post will understand that those writers are just people who are feeling a lot of different ways, and they're venting their frustrations. I've been there. I've reblogged those posts before when I was feeling frustrated like that too.

If you're able to comment, those comments are appreciated. If you're not able to comment (for whatever reason), that's okay too. ❤️

#writing fic isn't a job and comments aren't a salary #and if it starts to feel that way then you might be experiencing burnout #and it could be time for a rest - or to think about one anyway #I obviously don't know your situation #but that's what it was for me

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keerysfreckles · 21 days

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hiii!!!! lando and best friend reader and shes gotten into one of those sad days because shes thinking of how shes never dated anyone or had her first kiss or anything. and he offers to take her out on a date as friends and thats when he realizes hes in love with her (shes been in love with him this whole time). but they dont really say anything, but they just get increasingly more affectionate as best friends as the days go by. and everyone around them can see theyre so in love with each other - 🍒anon

loveless — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, slight swearing

a/n: lando p5 in japan HE WAS SO CLOSE TO BEING ON PODIUM

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n loved her small apartment in monaco. she loved it so much in fact that she's convinced her best friend that she's fine staying in day after day.

however if you got to know y/n, you'd learn this is out of the ordinary for the girl. usually she'd be out partying with lando, or hanging around the other members of the f1 grid. not sulking in her bathrobe and pajamas for three days in a row.

on the fourth day she recieved multiple texts from her best friend, lando norris, asking if she wanted to go out for drinks with him and a couple of friends.

y/n groaned, after reading the messages more than once. she really didn't have the energy to go out. not since her almost date last week didn't go as planned.

she met a rather attractive uni student on tinder, and they talked for a few days to get to know each other. less than a week later they planned to have dinner at a nice monegasque restaurant.

long story short, said tinder date never showed up, and never texted y/n the next morning explaining himself.

before the 'date' y/n didn't really believe in love. so of course, this screwed up with her perception of it even more.

lando was informed about the date, and was happy for y/n. he knew her history of falling in love was bleak, and he just wanted to be happy for her. so seeing his best friend wrapped up in three colorful blankets in her messy bedroom put a damper in his mood.

"what did i tell you about laying in the dark?" lando's voice surprises y/n. she jumps, before pausing her netflix show on her laptop.

"lan? what are you doing here?" she sits up, her eyes adjusting to the light lando just turned on.

lando sits on the edge of the bed, moving the laptop away from y/n, causing her to sit up as well.

"well you never answered my texts about going out tonight, so i figured i'd come here. plus you gave me that apartment key years ago."

y/n sighs. she knows she doesn't have the energy to go out tonight. "do i have to?"

lando sends y/n a sympathetic look. "maybe it could get your mind off that douche who stood you up last week. he obviously missed out on getting to know a great girl."

y/n's heart warmed at lando's words. he always knew how to cheer her up after she fell down.

y/n lets out a groan and falls back onto her pillows, her blankets encasing her once again.

"what if i never fall in love?" y/n thinks out loud. "or never go on a proper date? or mever even have my first kiss?"

lando's eyebrows furrow, "you've never had your first kiss?"

y/n takes the opportunity to kick his thigh, "yes shitbird, you know this." she lets out a small chuckle as he groans from the attack.

lando recalls her words again, "wait you've never been on a date either?"

y/n shakes her head, "nope."

"so that's why you're so beat up about this one not working out. i get it now," lando stands and walks towards y/n's opened closet door.

y/n sits up again, "lando what are you doing? i told you i don't feel like going out tonight."

lando ignores her for a moment as he continues sifting through her closet. his eyes and hands stop on a light purple dress.

"you still have this?" he holds it at an angle so y/n can see from her bed.

she nods, "of course. i've never gotten rid of any birthday present from you."

lando silently takes it off the hanger and throws it on the bed, making y/n confused.

"you and i are going out tonight," lando says confidently. "i'm taking you on a proper date. i'll text pierre, charles and carlos that i'll go out with them some other time."

y/n stares at him dumbfounded. she can't believe lando is taking her out on a date.

"when you say a proper date, what exactly does that entail?" y/n wonders, now removing her blankets from her body.

lando starts looking through y/n's very impressive shoe collection. "a very nice drive to an expensive restaurant, possinly with a candle lit dinner. you and i enjoying the best monegasque food we can. and maybe end the date with a classic near-the-front-door kiss."

y/n's taken back by his words again. she can't believe what she's hearing.

lando places a pair of white heels beside the dress on the bed, and leans forward slightly. "i'll be waiting in your living room, okay?" and with that, he kisses her forehead. the motion's been done a million times, but this time however felt different for the both of them.

y/n stares at her now closed bedroom door, and chuckles in disbelief while picking up the dress. maybe this was the push she needed to get out there again. party with her friends, and maybe go on more dates.

so she did as lando told. she was quick to brush through her hair, and change into the dress and heels. she styled it with silver jewelry and made sure to grab her small handled clutch before leaving her room.

lando stands from the couch. "now i think you look much better in this, than being covered in blankets."

y/n blushes at his words.

"do you have an idea of where we're going?" she locks her apartment door behind her, before lando leads her down the stairs with his hand on her lower back.

—

lando was starstuck.

during the ride to the restaurant, all the way up until they got the bill. (of course being the gentleman he is, he paid.)

he could barely take his eyes off y/n. he saw them shimmer as she spoke about her new job starting this month. he noticed how excited she got when he parked outside her favorite fancier restaurant.

now he was holding her heels for her, after giving her his jacket once the midnight air hit her skin. they were walking along the streets of monaco, planning on doing a little wrap around the block to get back to lando's car.

as the duo was talking and walking, they're arms kept brushing against each others. y/n couldn't help but giggle almost everytime, thanks to the white wine slowly making it's way in her system from dinner.

lando thought it was the best sound in the world.

on the way back to y/n's apartment, lando contemplated resting his hand over her thigh. she sat towards him, angling her body, so in theory he easily could hold onto her leg. however he refrained, but his heartbeat sped up when he felt y/n grab his right hand. she played with his fingers, and ending up enclosing her hand in his. he hummed at the feeling.

"so, we've done almost everything on my list to get you to have a perfect date," lando speaks as the pair stops right in front of y/n's door.

"what are we missing?" y/n asks, forgetting what he had stated earlier in the evening.

lando smiles down at the girl, his pupils dilating. "in order for you to have a perfect date, we have to have a near-the-front-door kiss."

y/n instantly blushes. she's thought about kissing lando before, but never thought any of her daydreams would become a reality.

lando steps forward and places his unoccupied hand on her pink cheek. he runs his thumb over the skin, and notices her pupils becoming wider.

"so what do you say?" lando almost whispers, the rasp in his voice becoming evident.

y/n looks between his eyes, and can't come up with a complete sentence as her mind falls blank.

silently y/n stands on her tip toes and grabs lando's face between her hands. she brings him down to her to connect their lips.

his taste like chocolate, from the slice of cake he ordered for dessert. hers taste like sugar and cinnamon from the cocktail she had at the end of the night.

lando brings his other hand around to y/n's back. she can't help but smile against his lips at the feeling of his arm around her. in the hundreds of times she's pictured kissing her best friend, it never ended like this.

the two finally pulled away, both of their cheeks blushed and pupils wide.

they both let out a rather large breath, and in the span of three seconds, y/n's opening her apartment door with lando following right on her tail. before they can fully step inside, lando's lips meet hers again, and lando definitely plans on spending the night.

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luxxid · 1 year

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"why do you love me?"

characters : ayato, albedo, al haitham, kazuha, tartaglia, tighnari, venti, scaramouche, heizou.

warnings: tooth rotting, cotton candy fluff, gn!reader, kissing, teasing, reader being a bit too curious.

☆ ayato who gently smiles, his eyes avert to your orbs, holding intense gaze withing the depths of your pupils. "well darling, your the only one who made me feel a certain way, your the only one who showered me with the riches of love and the true meanings of life." his soft curve still drawn onto his youthful face. his hand reaches out, a gesture of warmth and comfort. he holds your warm hands in his, and you feel the love and passion between the both of you. he leers and speaks once more, "i'm glad i found you." his words linger in the air as if they were a sweet melody, and you can feel the intensity of his emotion seep into the depths of your soul. he looks deeply into your eyes and you can feel the warmth of his love reaching out to you and protecting you in his arms. so this is what true love felt like.

☆ albedo who looked up from his notes, his face showed no trace of doubt on why you were asking this question, but his mind was in question. he set the feather dipped in ink down on a piece of paper. he looked up and met your gaze, a thousand questions in his eyes. he opened his mouth to ask but no sound came out, just a faint exhale. he glanced away, his brow furrowed in thought. "what can i say? your like a white rose in a bundle of red roses." he stated, he was unsure on what to say. he paused, his eyes searching for understanding. "it's like you stand out from others," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. he cleared his throat and shifted back to his notes, a silent understanding between the two of you. his heart was thumping. oh god he loved you so much.

☆ al haitham furrows his eyebrows in response to your question. confusion runs wildly in his green spheres. "your more bearable than kaveh and anyone i've met." he responded calmly before diverting his gaze into the book he held. you were taken aback by his response, not expecting that answer from him. he seemed to sense your surprise and managed a small smile before he looked away again. you found yourself smiling in response as you realized he wasn't as bad as you thought he was. his finger tracing on lines of the pages, ocassionaly shifting his concentrated gaze to you.

☆ kazuha who gently takes your hand in his, his other hand brushing a strand of your hair to the side, "it's simple dear, i love you more than others." he speaks out like the wind, his words loitering in the air, a crimson hue powdered your cheeks, he emitted a gentle chuckle in return to your bashful form. he really loved you. really. a soft kiss was pressed onto the crook of your neck while he squeezed your hand, transporting pure love to you. his voice resonated with sincerity, pouring out love as sincere as it was deep, letting you know that his love was something one of a kind, something that would never be replaced.

☆ ajax feels as if he had stopped breathing. why would you ask him such a question? "i love you because..." he muttered anxiously, unable to end his statement. a warm hand folded against his cold ones, a forced smile returned to his spry face. "i don't know how to explain it love. did i ever tell you that true love can't be explained unless you actually experience it? it's like that." he stammered, his heart racing faster than light. only you could make him feel like this, only you. he felt his heart flutter as the realization of what true love meant sunk in, and he knew that only with you could he truly feel this way.

☆ tighnari stops in his tracks. the forest ranger was surprised by the numerous amount of questions you had up your sleeve. he turns around to meet your hypnotizing orbs. "i don't think now is the time to be asking such foolish questions y/n." he states without concern. yet, something in his guts were pulling him to give you a proper reply. he sighs, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "you taught me how to use a spade correctly, that's one reason maybe. his mind wanders off to collect words to reply your oh-so-curious question. "i love how you keep me entertained during forest ranges, just like how you did now." you blink once, twice, thrice. he slowly turns away, a small smile playing on his lips. you watch as he slowly walks away, each step growing further away from you. you really loved him, so did he.

☆ venti smirks like a madman, his soft giggles were soothing to say the least. "i love it when you lend me mora to buy wine!" he obviated loudly, "venti you still owe me 400 mora from last week-" your words were cut off by the bard himself. "uh-uh we don't talk about that windblume." a large grin present on his face. archons, he was so childish. "but i also love it when you listen to my lyre" you sighed, shaking your head. "venti, you really need to be more responsible." he chuckled, taking a step closer. "but I'm so much more fun when I'm not!" he winked, his smile widening. mhm, he was never meant to change.

☆ scaramouche appears agitated with your question, his purple optics staring daggers into yours. "i only love you because your the only one i can handle-!" he blurted out, his face was covered in a pink palette. "i don't love you because i have to," he added, the intensity of his gaze increasing, "i love you because i want to." his tone softened as he finished his statement, the intensity of his gaze fading away. he meant it, of that you were sure. his expression was sincere, he wasn't just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. a small smile tugged across his lips, of course he wouldn't allow you to know his soft facade that only appears for you.

☆ heizou smirks menacingly, almost as if he was amused by your question. "you've been a bit too influenced by me, hm? he jived, his slender fingers petted a branch of your hair, "well.. i love you because you're the only one who can understand me, even when i don't understand myself. you challenge me, never letting me remain the same and you make me feel stagnate." he spoke like a breeze flowing abundantly. his breath washed over you. "and that's why I love you," he concluded, a determined glint in his eye. "oh and i also love you for this," he added before grabbing your face towards his before moulding his warm lips against yours. oh well, seems like he's got his way.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #ayato x reader #albedo x reader #al haitham x reader #kazuha x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #tighnari x reader #venti x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #heizou x reader

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howdoesagrapewrites · 5 months

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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐈

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, Aegon II is creepy

Notes: someone told me they were waiting for part 2 🥹 btw I hate the show's timeline as a book reader because it makes absolutely no sense and I can't write properly, halfway through this I literally have decided to throw it away and run with what my heart tells me, otherwise I'll combust

>When your father came back from the war of the stepstones in 115 a.c, newly wed to Laena Velaryon, you didn't think anything was going to change, right?

>You missed the Vale, you didn't like seeing your father and Rhea fighting, but she was so kind, just like your wet nurse, she wasn't here in the castle either

>But there was a lot of new people here, and you liked them all, since they're all your family, it is only natural you'd love them all, they often say they love you too

>When the news of Rhea's death and Daemon's nuptials came, almost arriving together, it sparked a sense of empathy and compassion throughout the red keep

>All of the Targaryens were already too "heedful" with your care, declaring you'd be cared for only by family, and in the extraordinary case no one was around, there was two very meticulously chosen handmaidens who were to watch over you until a family member was available

>This measure was whispered from Otto Hightower to king Viserys, this passed as a safety measure, saying that because of your origins, you were at risk, setting the infamous "princess of Flea Bottom" title as precedent to say you were not welcomed by everyone, and therefore in danger (even if everyone who was even rumoured to be against your stay in the castle, had already been "taken care of"). Of course no one objected

>This reawoke an old rivalry between Rhaenyra and Alicent, old playmates with unspoken grudges, now desperate to prove they could be a better, more adequate influence in your life

>Willfully ignoring your young age, and the fact you'll likely forget half of whatever they say by the time you're ten, what matter is that even when Daemon takes you away, you'll be able to remember one of them with particular fondness

>It was the truth, a hard and bitter truth, that you'd have to eventually leave, everyone looking for excuses to give to Daemon once he arrived, in order to keep you around longer, maybe indefinitely

>Alicent felt uneasy when thinking of stealing you away from your sire, as much as she disliked Daemon, and believed you'd be much better off being raised as hers, along with her children, you clearly loved him, you drew pictures and saved "treasures" to give to him once he returned

>You also used to ask about Rhea, no one had the heart to tell you, but still fearing the crude words your father would use to tell you of her passing, after all, Rhea was still "his bronze bitch". Finally, it was Viserys who had to break the news to you, he was considerate and comforting, even explaining how his parents and former wife passed away as well, and how he still carries them in his heart

>You lacked the proper cognitive development to fully process it, but it made you sad you were never to see Rhea again, this made you even closer to Viserys

>Alicent wondered if there was a possibility of offering one of his son's hands, if that would make you stay, she certainly wouldn't be displeased to have as a daughter in law, Rhaenyra did the same, after all, wasn't the heir to the iron throne a much better match?

>But the day finally came, where you had to leave

>Your father forsook his crown as King of the narrow sea to Viserys, who humorously put the crown on your little head, and named you princess of the narrow sea

>With the crown falling to your forehead due to its size, you hugged your father as soon as you saw him, with giggles and words of affection, as much as it endeared them, it broke everyone's heart to remember how your time in the red keep was nothing but extraordinary. Viserys thanked the seven no one could hear his thoughts, it would be improper for a king to wish for war, just to keep his baby niece around

>This moment created a long string of creative bards singing about Y/N Targaryen, princess of the narrow sea, queen of hearts

>It was finally time for you to go to leave, Laena was ecstatic to take you with her after meeting you for the first time, but she was a smart girl and noticed she was taking away something very precious

>But celebrations had passed and it was time to go

>You lived in Pentos for the next 10 years of your life, with your father, step-mother and little sisters, Rhaena and Baela

>Daemon was not so happy to take you to King's Landing for different events, however, Laena said it was good for you to be around your cousins and nephews, good for the twins as well

>And she said that since you had your own dragon, it's best to just, it'd be better for you to not feel trapped, otherwise one day you'll just get on dragonback and do as you please

>Daemon did not like the idea of you ever leaving or having enough independence to just hop on a dragon and leave, but he understood his wife was right

>When Laena lightheartedly told the prince of Pentos that he must only ask if he wished to marry one of the girls, Daemon grimaced in his classic unsubtle fashion

>You and your sisters were excitedly ogling the new dragon egg that was meant for your sibling

>One night, Rhaena came to your room looking for comfort, she feared her new little brother or sister would have a great dragon like Vhagar, or swift as Moondancer and then she'd be left alone

>You had Dagahrion, and Baela had Moondancer, both dragons were bonded with you since birth, but Rhaena's died shortly after hatching. She was given another egg, that sadly had not even hatched

>According to the dragonkeepers, Dagahrion still needed a little more time before you could safely ride, and Moondancer had a long way to go.

>Dagahrion and Moondancer were polar opposites, where Moondancer was small, slender and agile, with lightly coloured pale sage green scales and pearl horns, Dagahrion was growing larger by the day, heavy and mighty, with black scales that shone like a green tourmaline in the sun, and dark laurel colored horns. The dragons would often play together, and were called "the greyhound and the mastiff"

>Rhaena feared her bond with you would be outshined by the future races and sky stunts you and Baela would share. And when Aemond took Vhagar, it felt even worse

>After Laena's death, you had lost a mother again. You deeply mourned her, but you felt a different kind of sadness watching Rhaenys coddle the girls in the funeral, and Corlys telling Lucerys he'd be the lord of Driftmark. Rhaenys had you on her embrace as well, but the looks on you had brought a bitter truth to your attention, one that was nonexistent in Pentos, and swept under the rug in King's Landing. You were a bastard. The whimsical melodies about the princess of the narrow sea, had made you forget the princess was born illegitimate

>You were now 13, and the stares and whispers your family shielded you from, were words much easier to put together, faces much easier to see

>The lords and ladies gossiped when everyone ran to hug you before the true orphans, you felt guilty

>"Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the coast" said Vaemon. You smiled through the pain

>Your father started laughing to try and shut him up, it worked

>It also pained you to reunite with your beloved playmates, and see Aegon, your azantys, who you admired, now turned into a creep. He hugged you longer than he did with anyone else, but his hands lingered in a way you couldn't enjoy

>Lucerys and Jacaerys were there with you and your sisters, just like you could see the look thrown at you, you could see them being thrown the way of the Velaryon brothers. You didn't talk much, but you enjoyed their company

>Aemond tried to latch onto you and take you to where his family was, but after some time you had to return to your sisters, he didn't like that

>Helaena was just like you remembered her, she was still ever so gentle and had so many things to tell you about her bugs

>But some of her words were now cryptic to you

>"My dear Y/N, dragon in the flesh, do not believe the dragons in thread" she kept repeating, not even looking at you

>You slept in the room that was meant for your father, he hadn't returned yet. You slept in the second bed in that room rather than with the other children, you wanted to cry, but wanted to appear strong for your sisters, so you preferred to be away for the night

>However, the ruckus woke you up, Aemond stole Vhagar, and Lucerys made him lose an eye

>Jacaerys told you about the "hilarious" time they gave Aemond a pig, you silently reprimanded them, you didn't find it funny, but to go and steal Rhaena's last connection to her mother?

>Vhagar was not a heirloom, not a thing, but Rhaena deserved a chance to try to tame her before others did

>You were upset, however tried to stay at Aemond's side, after all, he was the one who lost an eye

>At least until you heard your nephew. "He called us bastards", you looked at him with a sad, disappointed expression before completely (and literally) turning your back on him to go console your sisters

>Rhaena was the most affected, her connection to her late mother, and to her sisters, was stolen by Aemond. In the moment, she feared Aemond would steal you away too, you seemed to be fond of him, and the queen would often tell stories of how close you were with her children. Losing you to Baela was one thing, she was her twin, and you would be within reach, but Aemond?

>Aemond was true to his words when he said gaining a dragon was worth losing an eye

>But he wasn't so sure it was worth losing you

#yandere daemon targaryen #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere targaryens #yandere aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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strwberri-milk · 5 months

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Could I request s/o giving the boys snack boxes with Kaveh, Ayato, and Wriothesley?

Those were so so so cute!

Kaveh is overtly very curious about what you're putting together. If you ask him to his face he won't admit that he wants to know what you're doing. You eventually end up telling him that you're simply preparing some gifts for the people in your life. He doesn't want to ask you outright if he's included in that list because he'd 1) hate to assume he is and 2) be embarrassed if you say that he isn't and this is for some separate event wherein he's not the intended audience.

A few people who know the two of you come up to him and ask if he's gotten a gift from you and he simply laughs it off, not wanting to make things awkward for anybody. However, the thought of it still sits in the back of his mind as their questions roll around his head. It makes itself known in the pit of his stomach, trying to figure out how he can ask you about what's happening.

When you come back home you see him sitting on the couch, deliberating intensively about just that. You're not sure if you should interrupt him, the bag in your hand almost forgotten in the state of mild panic his intensive thinking taking precedence.

He hears you coming up to him and looks up, trying to string together the proper words to ask you why you aren't getting him anything. You can see the slight pout on his lips as he tries to get rid of it, laughing a little to yourself at his attempts. You brandish the bag to him at the same time, Kaveh's eyes lighting up while you explain you wanted to make him an extra special treat. You're rewarded with a tight hug and his insistence that the two of you eat everything right now.

Ayato doesn't mind too much. He knows you were running around putting gifts for some of your friends and to him, he just assumes it's simply something nice you just wanted to do for them. He doesn't want to interrupt you in your project so he's keeping his distance from it. After all, it'd be devastating if he accidentally destroyed the snacks you were so carefully trying to preserve for your friends.

He does make positive comments though, finding the smell wafting through the home to be very pleasant. He lives for the way you practically glow under his sweet praise, feeling just as satisfied as if you hand confessed your undying love for him once again.

He sees a specifically ornate box being kept to the side and out of curiosity, he starts to build up a list of the most likely receptions of that box. When he sees that it's gone one day he simply assumes that you've delivered it to your intended recipient, not thinking much of it and not realising that it's sitting in your shared bedroom one night.

You have to point it out to him, recognition dawning on him at the same time as him realising that you saved the most elaborate gift for him. He laughs to himself, opening the box and admiring the efforts you went through as he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sets it aside to save for an afternoon with you.

Wriothesley almost doesn't notice you're making something with his busy days until he finds a strange amount of bags sitting around waiting to be filled. You quickly explain what you're doing and he nods in understanding, smiling at how kind you are and leaves it at that.

He never really would expect you to give him anything so the thought that you might even make him one never crosses his mind. As far as he's concerned, you're just making some people some tasty treats as a show of appreciation.

When you come up to him with his own tasty treats in tow he gives you a warm smile and opens it up to see what you've made him. He'll ask if you've got a bit of time to spend with him, already getting up to brew some tea that he feels would perfectly compliment the treats you've made.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #wriothesley x reader #kaveh x reader #ayato kamisato x reader

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phantasmagoria-in-neverland · 7 months

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COD Characters and their Love Languages.

A\N: Call Of Duty requests are now open!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, König, Alejandro Vargas, Phillip Graves.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Give: Quality Time.

Simon struggles with showing his love, and how much he values the few he truly cares about. Most days he's really not too big on physical touch, he's not great at expressing his feelings through words, and he finds gifts to be too frivolous of a way to show you how much he loves you. What he knows exactly how to do is give you his time and attention, he's not used to it, you're genuinely the only person he would spend all day with, but he can do it.

Usually, Simon is very picky about how he spends his limited free time, but with you? It doesn't matter at all. The two of you can do whatever you want to do, (and even if he might grumble about it, he truly means whatever) even if it's something he wouldn't usually like. His only requirement about the activities is that he wants to be with you, but other than that, anything that makes you excited is his favourite activity.

Whether it's you sharing a hobby of yours with him and explaining the process to him, or you talking about something you are passionate about, maybe the latest book you've read, Simon remembers everything you tell him. He might not speak much during the conversation, but he listens, and he never forgets a single detail.

Receive: Acts of Service.

Similarly to the way he shows you love, Simon doesn't require you to shower him in affection, although he will always appreciate each and every single time or way you show your love for him. But still, Simon is all for subtlety, for small things that prove that you care for him. Even better if they are unconscious gestures you do without having to think about it, like making sure he is taking proper care of himself, bringing him something to eat when he’s too focused on work to remember, or subtly checking up on him if you notice him being too quiet. Although he doesn’t like making you worry, he still appreciates that you do, because to him it shows just how genuine your love for him is.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Give: Physical Touch.

Johnny quite literally can't get enough of you, he would glue himself to you if he could, and he doesn’t hold himself back at all from showering you in affection.

Oftentimes, his touch can be a little rough, no matter how gentle he tries to be. Whether it’s a kiss, a hug, or even simple handholding, his touch is anything but delicate, Johnny tries to pour all his love into every single act of affection, and more often than not he doesn’t let go until you ask him to. He’s all for PDA, he doesn’t care where you are or who is looking, why should he keep his hands away from the love of his life?

Johnny is always down for some cuddles or some playful roughhousing, as long as he can be close to you he’s alright with absolutely anything, and if you're laying or sitting down, expect him to drape himself over you.

Receive: Gift Giving & Physical Touch.

Johnny loves knowing that you think about him even when the two of you aren't together, so every time you buy something for him, especially if it is an "It reminded me of you" type of gift, he will literally melt. The price of the gift, or what the gift itself is doesn't really matter to him, it's the gesture and the meaning behind it that he finds important, so he will treasure whatever it is to the end of his life.

He probably has a collection of soap themed things you've given him, and he absolutely loves it, it's his pride and joy. Loves when you gift him things he can bring with him while he’s deployed, like a bracelet he can fidget with when he misses you, a polaroid of the two of you that he can keep in his pocket and stare at to remind him of what’s waiting for him at home, or a patch that makes him think of you.

Johnny loves showering you in physical affection, but he also loves receiving it. No matter what kind of touch it is, he is always going to adore it, he just needs your hands on his skin, but he has a preference for those soft, comforting touches he never knew he needed until you came along. He loves when you let him lay his head on your lap as you gently run your fingers through his hair; He loves when you massage his shoulders on those days that he is exhausted, even when he says he’s fine and insists he should be the one to take care of you; He loves when the two of you shower together, helping each other wash away the events and tiredness of the day; He loves when you plant sweet kisses on his lips or cheek when you pass by him, for no reason other than the fact that you feel like it, because you love him.

John Price

Give: Acts of Service & Words of Affirmation.

This man would do anything and everything for you if he could, he doesn't want you to lift a finger or think about anything while he's with you. He wants you to be able to completely relax, to turn your brain off and trust that you are in capable hands. Everything is taken care of before you can even begin to stress about it, and he's not above treating you like royalty. John also likes to help you through the bigger, most tiring parts of life, whatever you need him to do to make you feel better, he’ll do it without question. If work or school are stressing you out, he’ll do anything to help you relax, from cooking for you, to running you a bath and washing your hair for you, to taking care of the house and the groceries, to making sure your working environment is quiet and tidy. He will ask you if there is anything you can delegate to him, and will insist on doing it for you.

On the same note, he will tell you how much he loves you all day everyday if you want him to, and each time will be as sincere and heartfelt as the one before, honestly, he would do it gladly. He isn’t shy with his words, and he never lets you forget how much he appreciates you and everything you do. He never stops reminding you how strong you are, how good you are doing, how invaluable you are. You are his whole world, and he is so incredibly proud of you and your achievements; He is proud of you even when you are tired or struggling, and he never lets you forget that even just the fact that you’re trying is more than enough, no matter what anyone else says.

Receive: Quality Time.

Give him all the time you can, and your full attention, and this man is going to wonder how he could get so lucky. The fact that you take time out of your day to dedicate yourself to him, and that you listen to him no matter what, even if he's rambling or saying something inconsequential, is something he endlessly appreciates. And he never feels as loved as when he stops talking and you ask him questions, let him talk more, with an expression on your face that shows that you care, that you are truly listening. When he tells you something, maybe in passing and without even expecting you to listen, and you remember it, he ends up looking at you in wide eyed surprise, he never gets used to how much you care about him.

It's not often John gets the chance to indulge in his hobbies, so seeing how eager you are to do them with him, even if you don't share the same passion for them, has his heart melting, especially if you’re the one to offer something he likes as the day’s activity. He would have no problem spending your time together doing something you'd prefer to do, or even do nothing at all, but it's the fact that you care to see him happy and in his element that never fails to make him feel incredibly loved.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Give: Quality Time.

You are his safe haven, when he's with you, he feels like he has finally a moment to breathe, to reconnect with the most human part of himself. He forgets that he's a soldier when he is by your side, he's just himself, and nothing else exists except the two of you. When you are together, no matter what the two of you are doing, he's completely focused on you, his phone or any other distraction completely forgotten. He could talk to you about everything and nothing until his voice gets hoarse, and he would still count the minutes until you'll get the chance to do it again.

Kyle knows exactly how short life can be, especially his own, so he never takes the time you two share together for granted. If he knew he only had five more minutes in this world, he would choose to spend them with you without hesitation. For him, your time together could consist in you doing your own thing, and him just following you around, and he would still be the happiest man in the world.

Receive: Words of Affirmation.

There's three things Kyle adores in this world: you, your voice, and the way you care for him; So when you mix all of them together, he is the happiest man alive. He loves when you whisper sweet nothings into his ear, especially when it’s late at night and you are holding each other, and anything outside of your bedroom disappears.

It doesn’t really matter to him if it’s words of love or encouragement, he just loves knowing that you care, that you notice when he is upset, that you know when a situation is stressful even when he doesn’t complain. And most of all it’s the fact that your words are a reminder that you always have his back, no matter the circumstances or what the world throws at him. You never let any of his achievements go unappreciated, even when he tries to brush them off as unimportant, or not enough, you remind him of just how far he has come, how much he has faced to get where he is, and how difficult the road has been, and you remind him that despite it all he never stopped fighting, he’s much stronger and far more capable than he gives himself credit for, and the fact that you notice that, that you are proud of him, it’s truly something invaluable to him.

König

Give: Acts of Service.

What König does for you is a little more subtle than what Price does, but it’s not any less meaningful, or any less constant. You are in his mind all day everyday, and he wants nothing more than to show that to you, even when he can’t quite put it into words. So he does a dozen little heartfelt things for you everyday: he brings you your favourite drink at the time of day you usually drink it; If you need to get something from a store he's already out of the door and rushing to get it; If you have something that needs to be repaired he'll gladly do it for you, to the point that he pretty much renovates your house given the time; He always shares his food with you, and insists you take some if you don't reach for his plate yourself; He always gives you his jacket if you're cold, his shoes if yours are uncomfortable, and he carries your bag for you so that your hands are free.

Everything he does for you, König does it gladly and with a lovesick smile on his face, he loves being able to take care of you, and he gets so proud of himself whenever he can make something easier for you, or make you smile.

Receive: Words of Affirmation.

König doesn't require many shows of affection, he's not one for grand gestures anyway, and he always notices every little thing you do that proves how much you care about him. But he can get a little insecure every now and then, especially because of how amazing he thinks you are, at times, he ends up getting stuck in his own head and wondering how someone like you could ever love someone like him, so words of reassurance are very important to him.

Tell him that you notice his efforts, that you see how hard he always tries to make you happy, and tell him how much you appreciate all of it, and he'll try to make you feel loved with even more enthusiasm than before. Tell him how handsome you think he is, especially when he takes his mask off or when he feels awkward because of his size, and you'll actually manage to make him blush. Tell you how wonderful you find him, how he is amazing just the way he is, usually those types of words would be appreciated but not necessarily taken to heart, but König trusts you, and could never doubt your honesty, so after a while your words will actually begin to stick.

In the end, all König is afraid of is that one day you'll decide to leave, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself without his one and only by his side.

Alejandro Vargas

Give: Physical Touch & Gift Giving.

The way Alejandro gives you physical affection is a bit more subtle and also more suave, he's not the type to completely drape himself over you the way Soap is, but that doesn't mean he's any less touchy. He always finds a reason to touch you in some way, from brushing your hair behind your ear when he notices it falling in your face, to placing kisses on your forehead, to having his hands on your hips or inside your back pocket (if you're comfortable with it.). But he doesn't have to necessarily touch you directly, Alejandro is more than happy with any type of closeness. He'll kneel down to lace your boots for you, help you buckle yourself when the occasion requires, if he notices the sleeve or strap of your shirt falling off your shoulder he'll gently use his fingers to put it back up, and he absolutely insists on doing your hair for you in the morning. He'll always sit down next to you, or stay by your side for as long as he can, not being shy with his love for you at all, not even in public. He's so proud of you, he wouldn't want anything else than for the whole world to see him by your side.

Alejandro lives for the way your face lights up when he gives you a gift. His gifts can be quite literally anything, and they can be either really small or really big, but they will always be thoughtful. He buys you things he knows will have meaning to you, they can go from something big that you've been eyeing for some time, or to booking you a trip when he knows you need a break, or a very expensive piece of jewelry that reminded him of you, to something much smaller but still meaningful, like buying you food when you're hungry, or bringing you your favourite flowers and chocolates. Either way, it's his way of letting you know that you never leave his mind, that he cares about you and remembers what you like, and that he'll always take care of you.

Receive: Acts of Service.

The easiest way to speak right to Alejandro's heart is to take care of him as well. It doesn't have to be anything big, even just coming home to you having cooked dinner for him, especially if you remember his favourite foods, or you taking care of the chores for the day so that he has one less thing on his mind, means a whole lot to him. He thinks you're an absolute saint when you remember where he leaves his stuff, or when you get his clothes ready in the morning so that he'll be able to sleep for a few more minutes, or when you notice he needs a new deodorant or something similar, and you get it for him when he's too stressed to remember it himself. Prepare him breakfast in bed, and this man will immediately go down on one knee and ask you to marry him, or renew your vows.

Alejandro is a Colonel, he has a lot of responsibility weighing down on him everyday, and a lot of people that count on him, so having the chance to come home to you and relax, leaving his worries at the door for a few hours, is more than he could ever ask for.

Phillip Graves

Give: Gift Giving & Words of Affirmation.

Phillip can't stop himself from spoiling the people he loves, in his mind, they deserve everything in the world, and why wouldn't he give it to them when he knows he can provide that? And when it comes to you, his overindulgence is almost unbelievable. He would give you the world if he could, so anything less than that is no big deal for him, no matter how much money it requires. He tries to satisfy each and every one of your whims, to the point that you can't even mention liking something, and he will find a way to give it to you. From a fancy dress, to a luxurious trip, to the house of your dreams, there is nothing he will not give to you. Honestly, he might seriously consider a way to give you the moon if you asked him to.

Phillip works, and has worked, so hard for the money he has now, and in his mind there is no greater demonstration of love than to take care of you with the fruits of his labour.

He never lets you pay for anything, ever, you are his partner, and it is his duty and his pleasure to take care of you. At some point in your relationship, Phillip will suggest you stop working entirely, unless your job is something you really love doing, he knows how stressful work can be, and there's no need for you to go through that when he can avoid it. What's a greater gift, a greater show of love, than giving you all the free time in the world, and the freedom to do whatever you want without worrying about a single thing?

Phillip isn't shy with his words, not at all, and he can be quite the charmer. He will list every single thing he loves about you if he sees you feeling down, and he never fails to tell you just how perfect you are, how good you are doing, how proud he is of you. He will brag about your achievements as if they were his own, with so much passion behind every word.

He always reminds you of how attractive he finds you, whether you're dolled up or in your nightclothes, he will tell you how stunning you look, and he absolutely means it. He notices every detail of your appearance, and he compliments all of them, how beautiful a shade of a colour looks on you, how flattering what you're wearing is, how pretty he finds the way you've styled your hair.

He'll talk loudly and proudly about you to anyone willing, or unwilling, to listen with as much love as anyone will ever see on his face. There is no way he'll ever let you feel unloved or unappreciated, when there is no one worth more than you in the world.

Receive: Physical Touch.

Phillip associates physical affection with you being proud of him, and of being seen with him. He's very fond of light PDA and sees it as a way for you to say: "Hey everyone, this is my man.". But it doesn't always have to be public: button his shirt for him in the morning, brush your fingers through his hair, hold his hand and rub gentle circles on the back of it, and he will absolutely melt in your hands.

He especially loves when you initiate physical contact, especially when it comes to kisses and hugs, and he doesn't waste a second to reciprocate them. There's no feeling he adores more in the world, than feeling needed and loved by you.

He is all for classic affection like walking arm in arm with you, but honestly, he welcomes any type of affection you want to give him, and every single time he gets a half smug half lovesick grin on his face. Nothing gets him to relax, or makes him feel as loved as your touch does, it's probably the only thing that can get him to calm down after a rough day, and he'll forever be grateful for that.

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hisui-dreamer · 8 months

Text

rewrite the stars

Characters: Leona, Azul, Jade, Idia

Synopsis: if the stars say we're not meant to be, then why don't we just rewrite the stars?

Tags: horoscopes, reader is insecure, crack(?), fluff, comfort, not proofread

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: rewrite the stars got stuck in my head then this idea popped up hehe

Disclaimer: i don't really know a lot about astrology, so most of the things i say are from google searches. in general, take astrology with a grain of salt yeah.

but also my sign and jade's sign are compatible hehehe

Masterlist

it's not easy being confident in love, and sometimes when you get so lost in your fears, you let anyone and anything tell you what you fear to admit, without a care for how truthful those words may be.

truthfully, if you were dead serious and broke up with him, he'd just grumble out a "whatever" and put up the façade that he doesn't care

but he'd actually be so mad at himself for pushing you away and how nothing in his life could ever go smoothly

but your eyes are swollen and tears are threatening to spill as you whisper those words

he silently approaches you, and instinctively reaches to brush your tears away, but his warm, calloused hand only makes you cry harder at how much you love the man before your eyes

he pulls you into his arms and holds you close as you sob into his chest

he doesn't say anything and waits for you to elaborate, there's a part of him that's afraid if he asked you why you wanted to break up with him, he couldn't bear how his own self-hatred

once you've calmed down, you start explaining how you two are incompatible in astrology, that he's a leo so it's easy for miscommunication to happen and other issues that have plagued you since you read about them

he's heard all this make believe astrology personality stuff before, but never before has he been glad of how ridiculous the idea is

you hear leona let out a big sigh, and the tension in his shoulders immediately lessens

pulls away from you to stare deep into your eyes, his face completely serious and solemn

"Herbivore, are you happy with me?" he asks. At you confused face, he repeats the question, his expression unchanging. When you nod firmly, he smiles slightly and asks again. "Then what else matters? As if I would let the souls of the past kings or some random star talk decide who I'm gonna love," he scowls at the idea. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours. "You're stuck with me now, I'm not lettin' ya go that easily," he whispers.

He pulls you with him as he falls back onto the mattress, cradling you in his arms. "Sleep. You're not a baby anymore so don't go crying yourself to sleep," he teases, but he gently kisses the remainder of your tears away.

azul.exe has stopped functioning

blubbering like a fish out of water (wait...) he's lost and hurt and confused and panicking all at the same time

"w-w-what have i done to upset you angelfish????"

the tweels walk into azuls office just to see the two of you crying and confused, azul trying to ask you why and he's sad and crying, you're stumbling over your words and sniffing and crying

ok after a glass of warm water (thank you jade) the two of you calm down to actually have a proper conversation, though azul is still very obviously tense

you explain that he's a Pisces and that means you two not compatible with how sensitive he is and he's a water sign and so on

azul is very confused about how stars can determine people's personalities, but he does fit the description of a Pisces, and if his beloved Angelfish is stressed over astrology, then it must be a reliable tell (azul no)

he asks for you to give him some time, to actually understand your reasonings and of course, to give him a chance and prove to you how willing he is to work out a relationship with you

the next day, azul visits you with very deep dark eye circles, but the glint in his eyes shows full determination and confidence

azul businessman mode on!

sits you down and pulls up a slideshow

azul ashengrotto is now an astrology expert!

he's determined to show you that you two have maximum compatibility and whatever issues you have? he'll always work them out with you

"Darling, you mentioned our Sun signs yesterday, but I think it's crucial to also discuss our rising, moon, and star signs." He declares as he points to a star chart. "Now, following the calculations of our birth dates and locations..."

An hour later, you sit completely convinced that astrology all but supports your relationship with Azul, and you can't help smile and jump into his arms. Azul, sleep deprived and running on anxiety, somehow manages to not fall over, but soon leans his weight on you. "See? We're perfectly compatible with each other," he murmurs against your ear. His arms wrap around you, squeezing you gently, "so please don't leave me, I wouldn't know what to do without you..."

eyes wide slowly blinking like "... I beg your pardon?"

honestly jade doesn't look that surprised/hurt

but really he's suppressing the turmoil of emotions inside him

ever the logical thinker, he'd ask a calm "May I ask why, my dear?"

and you surprise him again with flowing tears and a trembling voice

though he's listening very patiently as he's diligently wiping away your tears with his handkerchief, soft careful movements to avoid causing discomfort

asks questions when he doesn't understand what in astrology is going on, genuinely making an effort to understand this field of academics

in a sense, he's distracting you from being upset with academic discussion

okay, he's a Scorpio, which makes him good at manipulating people??? and he's very bold??

now while he finds all this very interesting and slightly accurate, it still feels pretty whimsical that the time you're born in determines your personality

particularly as he's so different to Floyd! and they were born at the same time!

whichever the case, the more pressing issue is his dearest lover sniffing and whining that you could never be happy together with how incompatible you are

he pulls you into his chest for a bit, rubbing soothing circles into your back and leaving gentle kisses you until your sniffing quiets down

"Dearest, won't you look at me?" he murmurs against your ear. You look up to see the most tender expression you had ever seen on him, his mismatched eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"While it is indeed extremely unfortunate that our star signs are incompatible, I don't believe there's a single person out there who could love me better than you do," he says as he kisses your hand. "I promise that your happiness will always be my utmost priority, so won't you continue to love this silly eel?"

"Now, while I will always find you enchantingly beautiful, I do believe a smile shines the brightest on my lovely pearl," he smiles while brushing the remaining wetness away from your eyes.

simply put, idia panics immediately

every day he thinks the fates have been far too kind to him for you to even reciprocate his feelings

he's always mentally preparing himself if you want to break up or you need to leave him

so he puts up a brave face when you say you can't be together

but wait... you actually look really upset and on the verge of tears???

"Hold up, why are you the one crying?"

please don't tell him those are tears of joy i think he'd die on the spot

through sobs and sniffs, you tell him that you were curious about your compatibility based on astrology

and okay...? he's a fire sign??? explains the hair

okay so you're telling him, you're breaking up with him solely because you think this thing might be right and not because you hate him, right?

brb gotta blow up some stars

starts mumbling about some plans to build space missiles and blow up some stars that make up his sign or something

he can't be an asparagus(??? idia no it's sagittarius doesn't matter) if the constellation no longer exists, right?

you stop him (thank god) by cupping both of his cheeks to make him stare straight at you

he's flushing up instantly and every fiber of his being yearned to turn away but your teary gaze makes him stop squirming

"You know," he begins, his voice earnest and steady, "everyday, I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. If you're unworthy of me, then I'm unworthy of you."

He lets out a chuckle, that rumble echoing right into your ear. "I suppose I can put those star destroyer blueprints on hold, at least for the time being. But if the stars ever mess with us again, it's game over for them."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland leona #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia

641 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 3 days

Note

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

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 ♡

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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ordowrites · 18 days

Text

wants, desires

cw: afab reader (pronouns not used), slight not sfw content, mentions of masturbation (m), mentions of oral (f. receiving), mdni, minors do not interact, pining, yearning, fantasizing, self indulgent. slight fluff. no established relationship. slow burn. the reader is not the Traveler, the reader is a Vision user. slightly ooc. fade to black.

word count: 2,781

diluc month!!! i love this man and i wish to squish his cheeks between my hands. tbh for as much as i love to imagine him suave, i feel like he's the type to long and pine before awkwardly try to romance someone. i'm sorry for the length of this fic, i got carried away.

Diluc is a gentleman, he is known for his polite way of talking, and perhaps his standoff-ish personality but he is, all around, a gentleman. Raised in nobility, Diluc was taught how to behave and act accordingly, even if he found some of the rules to be stifling. He remembers his father once telling him that there are even proper and acceptable way to court someone (man or woman, so long as he did it properly, it would be alright).

He never listened to those rules much because he always figured he wouldn't need to court someone, after all, arranged marriages were still very common and everyone had assumed he and Jean would be marrying each other (until she turned down his spur of the moment marriage proposal with a polite smile and multiple apologies). After his father died, Diluc had decided that his life was too dangerous to bring someone else into it. Nobody has seen the hell he'd seen and he wishes to keep it that way.

Until you came into the picture, your smile rivaling the sun and your laugh infectious. You came here from Fontaine, is what you explained, showing your encased Vision. You worked for The Steambird for awhile but decided to move back to your late parents home nation of Mondstadt, because your father had always spoke so wistfully of it. So, you'd quit your nice and cushy reporter job and joined the Adventurer's Guild and are now able to work at its branch in Mondstadt.

He'd memorized every detail you shared with him, because you were just so fascinating to him. Diluc hated the way Kaeya's arm slung around your shoulders as if the two of you have been buddies your entire lives. Rosaria barely graces you with attention, simply electing to enjoy her drink with two extroverts intent on disrupting her peaceful night. You do not care for any rude putdown, allowing it all to roll off your shoulders.

When Kaeya becomes too drunk - supposedly - to carry on a decent conversation with you, Diluc picks up the slack. It's awkward and uncomfortable at first. Your name is sweet in his mouth, he tastes it and swirls it around some and fears that if he speaks it, he may taint it.

Interacting with you was a different level for him, it was strange because you were the first one in his life to make him lose his footing, make him lose his breath, and make him nervous. But not in the same way Adelinde makes him nervous when she places her hands on his hips and gives him a disapproving stare when he tracks blood and mud on her clean floors, not in the way Jean makes him nervous when she challenges some of his more intense ideals. This nervous was different, like if he messes up, that's it. His words are carefully chosen, he practices your name every morning, trying to get used to saying it in hopes that if he sees you around, he can call out to you like it's a normal, every day occurance.

And he does see you around sometimes, in the green uniform assigned by the Adventurer's Guild (truly, you would look much better in the clothes he could provide if you were his-) but you're always too busy to stop and engage in conversation. This does not stop you from waving at him, acknowledging his presence when he accidentally stops and stares for a little bit too long. Sometimes he gawks like a teenage boy and he can't help himself.

Diluc is a gentleman, he knows better than to have thoughts about you - it feels wrong when you creep into his mind too late at night and leave him wanting. His hand around his cock, his fingers working quick as he guiltily thinks what you might look like undone because of him. Wonders what you might taste like, how your legs would quiver around his shoulders while his tongue laps hungrily at your folds, and wonders what you'd sound like when you call out his name in desperation.

When those nights happen, he can't even look at you in the eyes when he sees you next. Diluc knows all of this is normal, but it doesn't feel normal for him.

He has your favorite drink memorized - you aren't a heavy drinker, alcohol wasn't much of a thing in Fontaine unlike coffee and tea. So, always one drink, nothing heavy, but it you like it sweet and fruity. Unlike Kaeya, he lets you have a free drink every once in awhile, tries to relish in the way you look at him with wide eyes and a bright smile. Tries to ignore the way his heart pounds and his breath quickens when you thank him. (You could ask him for the entire world and he will try to get it for you)

Diluc tries to recall all the lessons his father gave him on romance and dating, realizes that many of those lessons are a bit outdated and perhaps, would not work on someone like you. He considers asking Adelinde before deciding that he didn't want the third degree from his head housemaid (who is more like a mother to him).

So, he elects to watch you from afar - learn your likes and dislikes because talking to you is somehow harder than fighting a Mirror Maiden or being involved with a particularly difficult business partner.

And it dawns on him how stupidly mundane and normal it is to have a crush on someone. Diluc wasn't ever sure he was capable of normal. He can't do things normally and he's come to accept this at some point.

By some happenstance, he learns of your favorite flower and orders a bunch of them to be sent to you - anonymously, of course. Although, he wishes he could have your attention when they arrive at your doorstep from Fontaine, wondering if you're happy to receive them or not.

"Someone sent me flowers," you mention to him, one evening. Lately, you've been coming around more and more without Kaeya with you. You've made your own little group of friends here, easily fitting right in and he always tries to imagine where his place would be in your group of friends and it always spirals to him as your partner, your beloved. Your husband. "The note that came with it was very sweet, but I wish that it wasn't anonymous so I could thank them. I've been missing Fontaine recently."

Diluc swallows the lump in his throat, clears his throat - a strange nervous habit he has.

"Would that not take the romance out of it?" When you give him a strange look, he feels his face grow a bit hot. "I mean, I hear some of the maids talk about how they'd love to have a secret admirer, something about it being more romantic."

"Master Diluc," you gasp. "Are you, perhaps, a secret fan of romance novels?"

"Did I not just tell you I only hear these things from the maids?"

You smile a bit. "You're hard to tease, you know that?"

"My apologies." You blink, confused and he clears his throat again. "So, who do you think might have sent you those flowers?"

You open your mouth to say something, possibly another teasing comment before deciding against it. "I'm not sure," you admit. "I don't often have romantic entanglements. I had one partner back in Fontaine and it ended up as a disaster. We were colleagues and it was so stupid." You sigh. "He was never the type to buy me flowers."

Diluc makes note that he will spoil you proper with flowers when you become his.

After a few weeks, he orders you another batch of flowers - this time a mix of your favorite and another common flower from Fontaine. Rainbow Rose, pretty pink roses that he pictures would liven up the manor, and be in abundance at the wedding the two of you could have.

No, he has to tell himself. You can't get that far.

"What is on your mind tonight?" Diluc asks as he makes your favorite drink. You look at him, as if trying to read him. "That secret admirer of yours again?"

"Yeah. Flowers, again." You say. "No note this time, which is disappointing." You rub your forehead. "Master Diluc, what would you do if you have the feeling some anonymous person was trying to court you?" Diluc gets the feeling you're fishing for answers.

"That has never been a concern of mine." He tells you. "Most women who try to catch my attention are never discreet about it."

"You make it sound like that's the worst possible thing in the world."

"If they were not doing this simply so their fathers could secure a better business deal with the Dawn Winery, I suppose I wouldn't mind it." He doesn't dislike it but none of those women ever really hold his attention, although he's entertained a few of them in his time, the courting never went beyond a few meetings before they'd decide he just wasn't for them.

"You don't strike me as the type to like being given that kind of attention," you admit. "Ever the evasive and strange Master Diluc. Perhaps I have you pegged all wrong."

"Oh?"

"Mm," you say as you take a sip of your drink. "Rich men tend to throw their money and power around to garner themselves a romantic partner. Honestly, it's gross."

"Well, I have never seen the point in doing so." Diluc answers, bluntly, feeling a bit insulted you'd even thought of him that way. "So tell me, then, how do you like to be courted?"

"Well, for starters, as lovely as the secret admirer thing is, I prefer if someone can actually tell me if they have feelings for me," you inform him. "Anonymous flowers once is nice, twice will have me wondering if they even respect my time."

"Ah - would you like other gifts then?"

"No - well, I don't - ugh, that's hard to answer." You push your hair back and he loves the way it falls around your face. He loves that, even though you don't get drunk, you can get a bit more relaxed and looser with your words as you drink. "I mean, I'd like if the person who is...trying to court me as you say, would just tell me and do it properly."

"I see."

"Have you never been in a romantic relationship before, Master Diluc?" Maybe you do know and he should come clean. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbling.

Once, he thinks. Jean and I had this whole fake wedding when we were kids. But that doesn't count.

"Not really, no."

"Oh."

In this moment, he desires to lean over the counter and kiss you. See what you taste like with remnants of that fruity drink on your lips, if you would get angry or if you would lean into the kiss. He desires for his hands to wander, for you to invite him to touch you even further -

"Aw, drinking without me, my delightful friend?"

"Evening, Captain."

"Kaeya."

Diluc is a gentleman, and he is quite the heartbreaker, he knows this. He'd sent many noble women crying by accident - rejection hurts or his indifference is worse. Adelinde would scold him many times for it, reminding him that he should still be considerate of their feelings. But it's never his fault that they get upset for being told he's not interested.

With you, he has fantasized about kissing you, dramatic love confessions (because apparently those are a thing in romance novels from what he's heard Hillie and Mocco say as they worked), or just simply telling you, but it feels wrong to simply confess.

This pining is getting him nowhere, and he worries about sending you more flowers and earning your ire instead.

So, at the advice of Adelinde - after he tried to lamely claim it was Kaeya who was looking for the advice - he starts to write you letters. Many, but none quite fit what he feels. He can give you all the flowery words in the world, but they are not succinct enough. Diluc isn't exactly the best at words, not like Kaeya, who can have both men and women swooning very quickly. He's always held the attention and engagement of crowds and Diluc finds himself envious of that.

Finally, he elects to do something so stupidly simple.

He writes you a letter in the dead of night, exhausted from a days work, requesting if he could court you properly this time around. And he sends it.

Because of course he did.

Because that's what a proper gentleman should do, right?

You are late for your weekly visit to his tavern, and Diluc finds himself wishing he had Charles manning the bar tonight instead of him. Though why should he be acting like a lovesick schoolboy? He is a grown man.

An hour goes by, and you're not in your usual spot and he fears he may have driven you off with that letter that never should have been sent in the first place.

When you do finally arrive, it's an hour before closing and you look beat. But your smile, when you see him, is still as radiant as the sun (though perhaps that's him imagining things, he doesn't know anymore).

"You're...late." Diluc observes as you half slump in your seat, bag dropping to your side. "Are you okay?" Perhaps you haven't read his letter and that's why everything is almost relatively normal.

"I'm okay," you finally answer as he starts to make your drink. "Sorry I'm here an hour before you close, it's been a long day."

He sets the glass down in front of you. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Tsarvitch is such an asshole," you grumble. "Tsarvitch? More like Tsarbitch."

"Yes, I hear he can be a bit difficult." You lapse into a silence, watching him. "Do you wish to talk about something else?" You reach down, grabbing your bag and pulling out an envelope with the Winery's wax seal in blue. He has to look away.

"I received this letter from the Dawn Winery," you tell him, pointing to the blue wax seal and the return address. You pull the letter out of the envelope, and it's clear you've read it multiple times since he sent it a week ago. "From someone asking if they could properly court me." He doesn't want to look at the contents of that letter, he was deliriously tired when he wrote it. "Who, at the Dawn Winery, could have sent this?"

"I'm-"

"How come you didn't sign your name?" Diluc can't answer that. He doesn't remember what was going through his head. "My answer, though, Master Diluc, is yes. You can properly court me."

His heart pounds in his chest as he meets your eyes. Of course, the answer was so simple - Archons, why couldn't he have done this in the first place? A few whole months wasted, when he could have spent it with you in his arms.

"Are you sure? I'm-"

"I'm sure." You interrupt. It's not often someone of nobility seeks to date someone who is not a noble, but he can't help it. Diluc just hopes that they won't eat you alive, though he has a feeling you can handle your own when it comes to the more judgmental types. He may have to protect them from you.

"In that case," Diluc says, hoping he won't scare you away. "May I kiss you?"

"Always."

He delights in your answer, moving to step outside of the counter so the damn thing isn't in his way so he can fully and properly enjoy you. He cups your face between his hands, bending down some and pressing your lips together. Soft, sweet - Diluc is a selfish man sometimes and he longs for more when you break away.

You whisper something as he pulls you back in for another kiss. Your hands wrap around his shoulders and entangle in his hair. A small part of him longs to lift you up and take you on the counter, but he needs to take this slow. He is a gentleman after all, properly court before bringing you to bed with him.

Yet, you refuse to let the kiss end this time around, chasing after him.

"I want you," you whisper. "Diluc."

"No dinner first?"

"Ugh, you can make me breakfast instead." That was all he needed for him to quickly close down the tavern. Diluc is a gentleman after all, and it'd be rude to keep you waiting.

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc imagines #diluc x fem!reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #ordo.text #ordo.txt #diluc ragnvindr

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honestsycrets · 9 months

Text

before anyone else II: the reverent | admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader

❛ pairing | admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader

❛ type | double-shot, explicit

❛ summary | politics and murder? easy. but if he thought he could stomach forcing the princess he loves into marriage... he was wrong. or reader forces admiral miguel o'hara into marriage.

❛ tags | forced marriage, royal!au, admiral!miguel, princess!reader, mention of murder, betrayal, treason, angst, f!reader, persuasion inspired, Spanish is not translated, female led breeding session, hand jobs, spicy bath time, ignoring miguel.

❛ sy's notes | the update no one asked for. the first chapter felt very incomplete without this one, so i just wanted to complete this series with a little bit of angst and smut.

“And what is that? Up there, Lyla.”

Lyla is closer to you than he remembers. In his make-believe voyage to Stone’s home, he would need a new ship. Today Lyla invited you to sail imperial seas, cutting through the waters with a new ship, the Reverent. He hadn’t shown you much of anything in his rush to leave the capital eight years ago. He makes that right with Gwen at your side, donned in the clothing of the guard. You opted for a soft blue gown, a navy blue rebozo thrown over your shoulders. The fat bow that drew in your stomach tumbled down against the dress’s long train.

“That’s the Crow’s Nest.”

His men and women were ogling. It wasn’t exactly normal to have a soft woman on board—much less their princess. You held the top of your hat, glancing up at the beam. Sun bounced in your eye, and you laughed delightfully, clapping your hands together. “A crow’s nest? Why do they call it such a thing?”

“The Vikings would release crows from the crow’s nest if they could not see,” Gwen answered, he did not know she cared so much about ships. You looked at her in delight as she explained. “Chart the path they took toward land.”

“¡Qué chévere! Lady Gwen, you are quite knowledgeable.”

“All sailor legend,” Miguel responded, the string of jealousy coursing through his bones, before he jerked his head toward those gathered along the main deck. He never did like crowds. “Back to shore! Off to your work, then!”

“Thank you for showing me proper sailing,” they dispersed to the sound of your many thanks, a slight bow in your waist. If it were your father, he would never do such a thing. Gwen stepped to the side, holding her hands behind her back. “You have a wonderful crew.”

"You heard the admiral, off you go!" Lyla rushed off to the stern to take the ship's wheel.

“And Lyla?” she stopped, turning her big brown eyes at him. She probably knew what was coming as you slipped by Miguel, sliding your hand around his inner elbow. “No rum.”

It was one time, she threw a curse.

“Have I missed something?” you asked, setting your head against his thin poet’s shirt. He smelled of the salty sea and the thin film of his own sweat. The warmth of the sun must have drained you already, donned in tumbling full-body fabrics.

“I’ve something for you.”

“Have you?” you asked, turning around to face him. Miguel reached around his neck, loosening the cord. His gift was not a necklace. If it were, he’d be far outmatched with jewels like sapphires, diamonds, and topaz nestled between your breasts. He pulled a ring from the cord, slipping onto his knees. You recognized the ring that he presented to you immediately. A modest ring of pearl set with tiny bits of a jewel that wasn’t quite diamond on either side.

“Oh, Miggy. You kept it?” you slipped your hand down to his waiting fingers. Miguel slid his ring onto your finger.

“It isn’t much. A guards pay, yes?” He began, realizing he was stumbling over his words. “But I… couldn’t help but think you would prefer it to something new.”

You pulled your hand free, kneeling to catch his lips in a small, patient kiss. He was grateful for anything he could get-- repressed as he was. Gwen bit back a smile, a soft murmur of princess, to urge you not to draw out such attention in front of a band of sea-numb sailors. You slid back onto two feet, your hands coming together one over the other.

“I love it. I always have, Miguel.”

“Yes, well--” he cleared his throat. He pushed past Gwen toward the steer of the boat, barking some orders in intelligible sailor slang. “I should check on Lyla. Lest she beaches us on some obvious outcropping.”

Gwen and you both knew it was to loosen himself of the embarrassment of a kiss well deserved. You glanced down at the engagement ring glittering on your finger, a smile working over your cheeks.

“Perhaps I should not have asked Lyla for her help,” you leaned over to whisper in Gwen’s ear. “My Miggy will never let her live it down.”

“Yes,” Gwen agreed. “Perhaps not.”

Hours ago, Miguel was on the salty sea. Tonight, Miguel held a bloody seax, wiping away kingly blood from its blade with a handkerchief that he’d promptly dispose of. For all his talk, the king took death well. Admirable, even! Barely a coward’s cry, a simple do it mijo, as Miguel drove his blade across his neck. Perhaps he expected his death, perhaps he missed his sons. Miguel couldn't help but think he knew what would happen by asking Miguel to deliver you to Stone like a hunk of precious cargo.

“I would say that went quite well. No fuss from the council members. No fuss from the king,” Lyla relaxed at the king’s desk, her breeches smattered in blood. Miguel lifted his eyebrows at her, a bit of sweat dripping down his neck. “How about your fiancé? Think she’ll make a fuss? You did slit--”

“¡Callate! Go with the men and take the body to the undertaker.”

“You’re no fun,” Lyla threw her boots off the desk, guards flanking her side, heading toward the king’s chambers. Miguel replaced his seax in the sheathe, cupping his face in one of his large hands. The door creaked wide open. Jess, whose frame was also streaked in blood, strode in. Miguel threw her a handkerchief.

“Council members are done and dusted.”

He mulled over what was undoubtedly coming: talk of the next steps. Miguel braced himself for her prodding.

“It has been a long time, years maybe since the people favored the king. I dare say not ever."

"What of the imperialists?"

"My guards are posted to suppress those still loyal to the king."

“I can't imagine they were happy under his rule.” Miguel moved toward the king’s rum cabinet, grabbing a bottle of glass. He sniffs the pretentious liquid, striding around the front and pouring Jess a cup first, then himself. “He did nothing for them but levy heavy taxes. She is the one who handled public relations. They’ll welcome a new king.”

“Well, it is better to have a warrior king over a puppet king. Even the corrupt will be happy not to fall to Stone.”

He hummed in agreement.

“About your rule."

Oh, here she goes.

"You’ll marry her before the end of the rose festival. It is the perfect time for romance.” Jess drank her rum, clinking their ringed fingers together in a toast. “Everyone knows of her standing engagement to Stone. We can frame the wedding as an act of love and her father as an obstacle to it. The women will love it.”

“If she’ll have me.”

“Miguel. We agreed. She has no choice.”

The sound of it grated something low in his belly. His fiancé with no choice but to marry the man who murdered her father. Murder was in no way his preferred choice... It was unavoidable. He had no other choice.

“I know.”

Miguel threw back the rum. He cast a glance to the window, the sun rising over the horizon. She watches him push off the side of the desk, his claws scratching lines of blood behind his neck. He spoke to himself as much as he spoke to Jess with his next words.

“My woman is gentle. I do not know how to tell her-- that I’ve waited a decade to marry her only to force her to."

Jess had no answers. The king is dead, sang some distant lament, a panic echoing through the halls. He wondered which you would agree to attend first: the funeral or the wedding.

Your mother was assassinated when you were just a girl. Your brothers met their deaths while at war with Stone. That was the nature of war and being a royal. For much of your life, you were accustomed to the pain of loss. Creating connections with your subjects was what you always aspired to develop. You could talk to people in the crown city you knew would be there year after year. Like the willowy brunet who sold you rose oil even after Miguel left. That was why the rose festival was so important to you.

It was tainted that early morning with the shrill scream of the king is dead-- bouncing off the halls, sending your heart strumming in your chest as you lurched up in your silky sheets, throwing your feet over the bed onto the cold marble floor.

“My father is dead?” you asked one of the two sentinel guards who stood wordless at your door. Gwen was parked in one of your great lounge chairs, rushing to stand upon the sound of your sleep-laden voice. You picked the bottom of your sleeping gown, rushing down from your place on the bed to the double doors. Gwen stopped you short of them.

“By order of the Chief of the Imperial Guard, I’m afraid you can’t go out, princess,” she spoke smoothly. She cleared her throat. “It is not safe.” “Safe?” you repeated. “The last man I could call family is dead and you long to speak to me about safety?”

She steeled her face. Guilt trickled in, inking in her stormy eyes. She strode in front of the double doors, her hand over the pommel of her sword. You couldn’t believe your luck-- not only to be alive, drawing breath, but to at the same time be sequestered in your quarters like a small bird in a gilded cage.

“Yes, princess. It is for your own good.”

The doors swung open. In place of your father, with his jovial hops, your fiancé. Miguel took measured steps, swinging the door shut behind him. The doors boomed as they came to a close. Like the other sentinel, Gwen took her place in protecting the only feasible exit. Your chambers were high in a tower, looking before the beautiful coast and its silvery waves. You often looked out the window and thought of him.

“I take it you have heard.”

Something in his countenance set off an air of distrust. His chin was level as if it was cut out of marble, and effortlessly the words spilled from his lips. There had never been a day in your life that you did not trust Miguel O’Hara. That though he was curt, sharp, and decisive, he always bore your best interest in mind. That was something you reconsidered now.

He stood almost too pieced together. Miguel stood in a clean militant uniform, the finest set of regimental you ever did see him in. Any other time you may have drooled over the sight. Over the way he combed his hair back, tickling his broad throat. Or how tightly the shirt fit when he moved forth, then swayed back on his heel. His thumb hooked on the clasp of an iron belt.

“What have I heard, Miguel?”

“Of the military coup.”

His words carried no recognizable trace of remorse. They only communicated the facts of your situation.

“You…” you faded off. It couldn’t have been. ”It was you?”

“I had no other choice.”

Though he said the words, he knew you would find them inadequate. Wholly untrue, even. Your mind buzzed in disbelief, pacing backward to your bed. You glanced at the clothes your maid set out for the day, settled over bundles of fluffy pillows. As the sun raised over the glittering ocean, one that you visited often in his memory, you felt stilted. “I asked you not to--”

“Talk ill of the dead, yes, I know. I will not.”

“You missed my point entirely. I asked that you would not blame them for the past. To not dwell on it. You've done just that!”

It was perhaps an impossible ask to ask a man like Miguel, cocky as he were, to bury the past when your father made such requests of him. You could handle your father’s death by any other means. By an assassination by Jess or the many others who sought his head. With your heart something akin to numb, you dropped onto your bed, scratching at the ribbons laced in your hair from the night before. You pulled them free. Miguel made his way close, bending onto one knee between your own, sliding his gloved hand up your exposed skin.

“Perdóname,” he spoke candidly. You gazed at him with watery, bright eyes. If anything on this earth could fill him with remorse, it would have been that. He pressed a kiss to your knee. “It had to be done.”

“You say that but I wonder if you truly understand what those words mean,” you bit out. He appeared contrite, lowering his head lower, if at all possible. “What would you have me do next, hm? I have no more brothers to rule the crown. I care nothing for politics, only the health of my society, and what of Stone? Do you not think he will feel disrespected?”

“I did it for you.” Miguel simpered.

“For me? None of this is for me,” you repeated after him, knocking his hands from your knee. You replaced the skirt over the spot he kissed, finding the feeling of his slightly chapped lips blooming blisters of hot anger through your body. “No, you did it for yourself, Miguel. You are so selfish. My father gave you an ounce of power and you repaid him by taking his life.”

“I am selfish? He gave me nothing but years of pain.” Miguel’s facade cracked, his face going insipid. “I took these positions to please him. For you.”

“And how is it that these choices are now my fault?” you interrupted Miguel, looking up at his hard features. “Now where do I figure into this-- bloodlust of yours? What do you want of me?”

“I want you to marry me. You will marry me. You have no other choice.”

You weren’t going to let him skate by this time. You wouldn’t allow him to be this wonderful, handsome, caring man you fell in love with at first sight as a girl. The certainty with which he said those words was enough. You pushed past him, Miguel snatching your slight wrist in his thick grasp, holding you there. He couldn’t let it be. Not so easily.

“Get out,” you whirled your wrist around in his grip to break it. He easily could have overcome you, the admiral that he was. You heard the rumors of his swashbuckling run-ins with pirates and saw him in action as a guard. You knew the depths of his strength. He let you slip away. “That is an order from your princess, Miguel. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but it is the rose festival. I have duties to maintain peace that don’t require things such as murder and treason to the crown.”

He snapped his head down, inspecting something wildly interesting on the stony floor. His hands flexed and curled into tight fists, as though he could do or say anything more that would talk you from throwing you out of your quarters. His anger piqued before he absolved it of outward expression, instead speaking with a hard voice.

“We will speak of this again.”

“Out.”

He never wanted this. But it was necessary.

Miggy, Miggy, me duele.

The pain will pass, mi amor.

The only type of hurt Miguel wanted to give you preceded pleasure. One that could be fixed with patience and doting attention. That was what the rose festival provided nearly eight years ago. Today-- that reality couldn’t be any different from his reality.

Jess’s military presence was intense. Normally, you could cut bundles of bouncy rosy flowers and interact freely with others attending, creating rose products that could be bought, traded, or sold. Your chamber ladies held wicker baskets jam-packed with long flowers to be given to expecting or aged mothers, a small gift for their motherly worries. A parasol blocked the warm Mediterranean skin from your exposed skin.

“She looks beautiful today, eh?”

Lyla nudged him with a sticky creampuff between her fingers. Its rosy pink filling was smeared over her slight lip. Miguel’s arms turned one over the other, not a complaint on his lips. She was right as she usually was. You never wore red-- but the occasions that you did never failed to render him breathless. Unfortunately for him, the long dress hugged your curves beautifully, a fat bow behind your back, the diadem settled neatly along your head. You looked beautiful-- like that night, sliding into a hot bath of nothing but warm petals and rose oil purchased from some overly excited peasant. What he wouldn't give to hold your parasol, or the baskets, to simply be close.

“Suppose you didn’t think this bit through,” she leaned in, whispering words in his ear. “The whole let’s assassinate what’s left of her family.”

“Shut up,” Miguel pushed off the wall. “If you’re so knowledgeable, help me.”

“I could do that. Princess!” Lyla waved, rushing over. He followed her like a second shadow, nipping on her heels. Your gaze snapped to hers. A slightly forced smile worked at your lips as you brought your red-gloved fingers to the basket your chamber lady had. He tried to make eye contact-- but found you looked anywhere but his eyes, avoiding him in the cruelest way you could.

“Lady Lyla, I have something for you.”

“For me?” she laughed, a teasing thing. “I never receive gifts.”

“I give you casks of rum.” Miguel protested. You looked at Lyla for a moment, eyes flickering gently, before continuing your search.

How did you punish him? You look anywhere but at him. You ignore his existence. He longs.

“Yes,” you plucked out a ruby red crown of roses. “Well, girls, perhaps Lyla would like to feel like a woman for once. Trapped on the admiral’s battered and broken ship does not serve for much of a love life. Other than brief encounters at distant ports. Which I am sure you do not care much for.”

“Eh,” Lyla shrugged off the suggestion, slipping onto a knee so that you could set the crown of flowers on her head. She stands back up, nodding her head appreciatively. “I’ve had relations with some beautiful women.”

“Oh, please tell,” you took her thin arm and pulled her from his side, pinching your skirt between your fingers and walking on. As if he were fucking invincible-- “I am sure the admiral has taken on many lovers during the years. Have you?”

“He’s not even had one.” Lyla laughed, “Unless you count his hand.”

She thought she was so funny. Your chambermaids certainly thought she was, chittering in laughter among one another. He quickly understood that you not only did not want to speak to him but by peeling his-- begrudgingly said-- best friend away from him, you sought to make a point. To make him feel as lonely as your grief made you. In this busy, love-filled festival, he certainly felt it.

Miguel doesn’t buy things often. But there was something in the way the tiny stick of a man spoke. The glitter in his plain brown eyes invited Miguel to buy the stupid oil treatment that he spilled into his bath now. I think I remember you, you were the princess’s guard, the man said. You bought the princess this treatment years ago!

He couldn’t have remembered it. Miguel abandoned the towel by a gilded chair, sliding his sore muscles into the hot water. He shouldn’t have left to help his men at the docks. His muscles were tight with the tension of moving crates of products onto ships all afternoon and into the late hours of the night. The subsequent days of the rose festival proceeded much the same. It was nearly over. Jess would come soon to press him about his marriage. One that he was not certain would proceed-- not if things kept in this vein. Yet, he couldn't bear to walk to your chambers again, to force you into it.

“I’ve thought about it.”

Miguel would have jerked out of the bath if not for your hands sinking into the warm waters of the bath. Your gloves were thrown somewhere else, not here, dipping around his broad torso and below the waters. You wrenched your hand around his cock, gently pulling his dick to hardness underneath the waters. It did not take much-- it had been so long. He couldn’t quite process your words with the way you stroked him, milking him as if he were detached from his cock.

“Miggy."

"Yes...?" he didn't know what else to say.

"You murdered my father because you want to be king,” you said, the words held a vein of resentment. You enjoyed it, stroking the soft skin of his dick, tracing the veins that rushed to his head. You especially loved how he stiffened and grew in your silky hands. Miguel gripped the sides of the bath, his knuckles growing white as he held the rim.

“I don’t want to be king. I want you, I’d-- carajo-- murder him a hundred times over,” he supplied the truth, the words falling from his lips with great effort. Your other hand sunk lower, grasping his balls in your palm and melding them. You squeezed him in some mock punishment. But it wasn’t-- not nearly. It felt good. He cried out, a small pant of air filling the room.

“Hush, Miguel.”

“No-- te necesito. I need you, I’m so fucking-- I’m hard,” your languid circular strokes of his shaft were agonizing and caused him to ache. His nails dug into the side of the bath, mesmerized by how gently you treated him, settling a kiss at the side of his neck. Your pace quickened, jerking him more insistently. The many days at sea that he stroked himself just like this-- with the dream of your hands being the one to do it, to do just this, all culminated in Miguel’s harsh panting, trying to obey-- to be good for you, just as you had years ago.

“I know you do. You want me to marry you?” you murmured against his neck, tracing his pulse. He dropped his head back, closing his eyes, offering you only a small nod. Your hands drew back, leaving him bobbing in the water, so hard it hurt. So hard-- “Stop it.”

Miguel complied. You drew back your deep red cowl, drawing the strands loose as you moved in front of him. He bore at you in an incredible amount of awe, his hand pulling at his cock like it were second nature. He pounded into his own hand, so high on the lovely sight before him that it surged in his chest, the beautiful way your nails pulled at the frilled bottom of your nightgown, lifting and pulling it off your body. His mind was a haze, skin warm by the hot oil in the bath. What remained was a desire to be touched by you.

“¿Qué? I didn’t hear you,” your fingers teetered along your clit, stroking along your wet lips. Miguel soaked his own lips with the hunger that rose from the need to touch and be touched by you.

“Sí,” Miguel murmured, the words short and slight. You slipped into the water, gripping the rim of the bath and presented your ass to him. Miguel’s eyes caught your puffy lips, flecks of rose matted to your skin. He didn’t dare move-- lest you tell him to get out.

“Come mount me,” you urged, the words soft, gentle, inviting him to climb over your body. He didn’t know why-- but happiness bloomed in his chest, “Since you murdered what family I had left, you’ll give me more.”

“Give you… you want me to…” Miguel’s mind fizzled out, all cognizant thought of what you meant left field. In its place was the certainty of what you wanted. You wanted him-- his children. He clambered over you, nudging your lips with his cockhead.

“Sí, mi amor, I want you to impregnate me.” Your hand reached back, nails clawing into his muscular hip. Miguel flinched, the blunt head of his cock pressed against your entrance. Water sloshed over the rim of the bath onto marble floors. What you asked for was to be used, to be filled. He couldn't equate the depths of your need when just a few days ago you banished him from your chambers.

“Is that so? Then I won’t pull out.”

“I expect you not to,” you bit back.

“Fuck,” Miguel murmured, taking his time in sliding forward. He wanted to savor the feeling, the way his cock slid apart walls that hadn’t been used in years. Your body stretched to make room for him, the feeling of burning pleasure dancing down your spine. Miguel gasped, realizing he should have fingered you first-- because your body was tight, so warm and good, full of his cock deep in your belly. You moaned his name, sounding so beautiful in ways that Miguel had only dreamed of in the past few years.

He snapped his hips in forceful but short thrusts, his fingers gliding up your sides to your breasts, his thumb and index finger rolled and pinched your nipples. “Dios mío,” he found himself panting. “I’ve missed this.”

“So Lyla says,” you threw back. “Ah, there, faster--”

“As you wish.”

You were talking far too much for his liking. His hands snapped down to your core, fingers delving against the clitoral hood, that sweet little spot he knew would cause a weakness in this facade of yours. You gasped, lowering your head down over the rim of the bath, accepting his thrusts with helpless cries of his name, growing in their intelligibility, until felt it more than he heard it. Your pussy spasmed around him, milking him for his seed. Not yet, he wanted to remember the way you cried for him-- for his children. He snapped his hips hard, short thrusts snatching any relief of orgasm far away.

“Por fa Miggy,” you whispered, something soft and hot. His eyes went wide, failing to focus on anything but your voice. “Don’t be a tease. Give me your seed.”

He responded with nothing short of a sharp growl, turning his hands onto your hips. He threw his hips forward in a harsh, punishing pace, as if he were taking out every second you punished him out on you now. Water soaked the floor, replaced with the ringing slap of his hips thrown against yours, his heavy balls full of cum that-- seconds later, he released. Miguel choked loud grunts, scratching at your back for relief. You felt his warm seed fill your walls, his chest bowing over yours as he spurt his cum seated against your cervix. His claws drew lines of blood free of your unmarred hips, marks of his claim.

“Stay-- stay there,” Miguel murmured against your back, pressing small kisses along your back to your shoulder. “If you want a baby, my seed needs to take.”

Soon enough, Miguel grew soft and fell free from your body, globs of his cum spilling down your thighs. He stepped out of the bath, drying himself off and throwing the towel on the slippery floor. He extended his hand out for you to take. You did, sliding over the crumpled clothes Miguel threw on the floor so that you would not slip.

“You marry me tomorrow,” you supplied. Miguel’s bushy eyebrows pushed up, suddenly realizing why Jess had not yet come to bother him about his failure to secure a fitting date for marriage. You must have arranged it.

“What do you mean tomorrow?”

“Then our honeymoon. I want to have a child in my arms before the year is up, Miggy. You can handle politics, war, Stone. I care not for any of it.” You settled your hand on Miguel’s chest, drawing it down over his firm pecs to the muscles of his stomach. He glanced toward your core, cum soaking your walls. “You have no choice.”

“You mean to say you are forcing me into marriage?” Miguel bit out, a heavy breath slipping out of his lips when you grabbed him again. Already? You walked him back out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, pushing him onto the silken sheets. He fell with a grunt, catching your body and dragging you on top. Cum from your leaking cunt soaked his thigh. You brought your thumb to his lips, quirking it against one of his fangs. Miguel turned his face to the side, glaring into the dark night.

“As if it were so hard. Now, the correct response is yes, my princess.”

He chuckled, small and pleased.

“Yes, my queen.”

Queen did sound so good when it came from his lips.

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #spider 2099 x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #atsv imagine #atsv x you #atsv imagines #atsv miguel imagine #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara angst #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader

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cyberfreaky · 10 months

Text

CELLOPHANE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ PART I

༘⋆ PAIRING — olo’eyktan!jake x fem!reader

༘⋆ SUMMARY — in which your taboo infatuation with your olo’eyktan begins to cause problems.

༘⋆ WARNINGS — age gap (32 & 22), mentions of daddy issues, power imbalance, no comfort angst, infidelity, mild violence, alcohol usage, arguing, eventual smut.

༘⋆ NOTES — my first proper series PURRRR i hope y’all enjoy this. updates may be slow since i start back at school soon, but i’ll make time xx this parts kinda boring but i jus wanted to try show the dynamic reader & jake share ??$2&:@/$

MASTERLIST + CELLOPHANE MASTERLIST

the communal fire burnt brightly, everyone sat around while consuming their supper. you didn’t have much of an appetite, resorting to you sitting in your lonesome and quietly watching your clan with bored eyes. the sounds of chattering and laughter buzzed in your ears, everyone speaking happily amongst themselves about today’s successful mission. your mind was elsewhere — in your own little fantasy you’d created with a certain someone. to the average person, this would seem rather pathetic. but you were wilfully blind.

“not hungry?”

you were swiftly brought out of your thoughts, glancing over your shoulder and noticing your olo’eyktan taking a seat besides you. there was an instant burst of joy that coursed through you - a coy smile painting your face as you shook your head in response. “no, sir. my tummy feels funny.”

“y’know you don’t have to keep calling me sir, right?” jake chuckled at your timid response, giving your side a playful nudge. “just call me jake. sir makes me feel old.”

“sorry. jake.” you apologise quietly, anxiously scratching your forearm.

this nightly ritual of jake visiting you throughout supper had become one of your favourite moments of the day. you were so helplessly smitten with him - your closest friends would joke that it neared an obsession at this point. it was your deepest secret, what was once an innocent crush had blossomed into something forbidden. you were hopelessly in love with your olo'eyktan - and it pained you everyday knowing nothing could ever come of it.

you felt jake's hand rest on your knee, a playful expression on his face. "where do 'ya disappear to in that head of yours?" he smiled warmly, clearly taking notice of how your trance-like state. you brushed it off with a coy smile, shrugging timidly at the question. jake's hand placement was innocent, especially the gentle pats he gave assuringly. "you got a stomach bug or somethin'? could explain the loss of appetite."

"no, it's not that. i'm just a little sad." you admit honestly, a small sigh escaping your lips as you glanced down at the ground.

jake’s face fell at your words. he shifted a little closer, his hand still placed on your bent knee. “what’s wrong?” he asks with a concerned tone, you could hear how genuinely worried he was. jake cared about you - just as he cared for anyone in the clan. but you never saw the blurred line between the two.

you couldn’t admit what you were feeling. there was no chance in hell that you’d ever tell jake what was going through your head. how do you possibly tell your leader that you never stop thinking of him? that his friendly gestures and innocent touches felt like ecstasy to you? that you envied his mate with your entire being? these weren’t regular thoughts. these weren’t normal feelings. even in your own delusional little bubble — you could recognise that these emotions were taboo.

“you can talk to me, kid. y’know that.” jake assured once again, using that bastardly nickname you loathed. kid. was that all he saw you as? you were a grown woman, not some sad pouting child with a tummy ache.

you sighed deeply, trying to form some kind of lie in your head as you gazed at jake. “i’m, uh…i’m not feeling confident with my skills. that’s it. i don’t..um, i still can’t shoot properly.” you try to sound as genuine as possible - hoping that your sullen expression could convince him even further. it was a ridiculous lie, but nothing else came to mind. your aim was impeccable.

jake nodded slowly, his lips soon curling into a small smile. "how about this? tomorrow morning, i'll take ‘ya out for some practice."

you couldn't contain the grin that grew on your face. your little white lie had lead to something even better — alone time with jake. you nodded eagerly at his offer, trying your hardest to suppress the overwhelming excitement you were feeling. "really? you'd do that?"

“course i would, anything to help.” jake says with a warm smile, giving your knee one last squeeze before retracting his hand away. “i’ll swing by your hut after the morning hunt and we’ll go from there. sound good?”

“that sounds amazing. thank you, si-” you pause for a moment, correcting yourself quickly before calling him sir. “jake. thank you, jake.”

jake chuckled in response, giving you a friendly wink before climbing to his feet and bidding you farewell. your eyes followed him as he walked back to his mate, jealously watching him plant a kiss on her cheek. you shook your head, taking a deep breath before remembering that you had tomorrow to be excited for. ‘it’s fine, it’s all fine.’ you’d repeat in your head, appeasing the envious feelings that began to bubble up inside you.

the idea of spending hours alone with jake kept you calm and collected. a giddy smile formed on your lips as your thumb grazed the skin of your knee — already missing jake’s comforting touch against you.

that night in your hut was restless, you couldn’t contain the excitement of seeing jake in the morning. you held your pillow to your chest, sighing in pure ecstasy at the mere thought of spending hours on end with him. it was an incomparable feeling, another chapter to file in your delusional bliss.

“that’s it. arms straight, no slouchin’. you gotta keep your posture nice and tight.”

jake instructed you from the side, speaking with a stern yet calm tone. you already knew this, this information had been drilled in your head since your were a child. but were more than willing to act a little oblivious for the sake of some alone time with your olo’eyktan.

you followed his instructions, straightening your dominant arm as you firmly held the heavy bow in your hand. you gingerly glanced over your shoulder at jake, purposely hunching your back a little. your eyes quickly darted to the target painted on the distant tree — eagerly awaiting for jake’s reaction to your form.

“c’mon, you can’t shoot an arrow with sloppy posture.” jake says disapprovingly.

you felt him stand directly behind you, one callous hand pressing on your tummy while the other rested on your lower back. a gentle gasp escaped your lips, quiet enough for only you to hear. you held yourself back from keening into his touch, carefully keeping the inch long distance from his body.

“stand straight, hon. ‘ya can’t hunch when shooting, it’ll mess up your aim.” jake whispers solemnly, adjusting your posture with gentle movements. as he straightened your back, you felt him lean in closer to smooth his hands across your shoulders encouragingly. “now, when yr’ready, take your shot.”

you took a deep breath, ignoring the shiver than ran down your spine as you expertly released the string of the bow. bullseye. the arrow roughly pierced the red dot on the tree, perfectly centred and all. a wave of pride engulfed you as you lowered the bow, looking over your shoulder to gauge jake’s reaction.

his eyes were wide, proudly laughing as he suddenly engulfed you from behind. “holy shit!” jake cheered loudly, rocking your body back and forth as he celebrated your shot. you giggled quietly, allowing yourself to lean back against his embrace for a moment. you were caged in his muscular arms as jake continued to praise your aim, almost in disbelief at how incredible it was.

you were in a state of pure euphoria as jake gleefully clung onto you. while this wasn’t the first time he’d hugged you - this was certainly the most endearing. you nearly melted at his constant praises, immediately feeling a warmth fill your cheek as you flushed insanely. you could get used to this feeling.

he spun your around swiftly, gripping your shoulders tightly as he shook you playfully. “how the hell did ‘ya do that? you’re a natural!”

“it wasn’t that great.” you mutter nervously, glancing up at jake with a flustered expression.

“you kiddin’ me? that was incredible.” jake lauded, that signature smile of his making you grin in return. “god, yr’something else, eh?”

your face was flushed as you stare up at jake, unsure of how else to respond to his words. he seemed to take notice of the tinge of mauve on your cheeks, mistaking it for some sort of heat exhaustion. “you feeling hot?” jake pressed his palm against your forehead, the back of his hand soon checking the temperature of your cheek. “let’s go get you cooled off. you’re burning up, kid.”

these small revelations always pained you. no matter how much you proved yourself to jake, he’d always see you as a bashful, little girl. you couldn’t even enjoy the walk back to camp as he kept his arm snaked around your shoulder — you knew it was all for the sake of protecting you. caring for you. and not in the way you wanted him to.

there had to be some way to show jake you were more than some injured lamb. and even if it meant risking your relationship with him entirely — it would be a leap worth taking. you refused to live with the heavy burden of your feelings anymore.

TAGLIST (i’m tagging those who asked on the masterlist post! if you want to be added, lmk eee)

@wh0rezs @neteyamsb1tch @touchedflowers @rosesinthemoonlightxx @sadredflower0000

#jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfic #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully headcanon #jake sully headcanons #dilf jake sully #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar twow #avatar x you #avatar x reader #avatar smut #cellophane series <3

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greythemed · 10 months

Text

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ perverse behavior. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1875.

"would you ever fight me?". the question came from nowhere, in gun-woo's opinion. the ringing sound of the seoul traffic outside of his mom's apartment high enough for the boxer to not pay the deserved attention to you, his ears getting cold from the snowy weather out-of-doors.

gun-woo was tired.

his mom had to reheat the food because of his delay and he felt bad about it. plus, you were waiting for him to watch boyz n the hood for the very first time, after weeks of complaining he didn't watch proper shows on his teenage years.

what do you mean you've never watched the last game and asphalt man?! you are not korean if you've never watched those! you have said it in such a thrilling way that gun-woo hadn't the heart to say no to you, and now it's been three weeks that both of you are marathoning different korean tv series every thursday night.

he was still carrying his boxing gear on his shoulders when you had jumped him into the entryway, making the man almost lose his balance while his mom excitedly greeted him from the kitchen.

"woah, when did you get in here?", was his first question when he felt your arms trying to wrap around him, two kisses pressed on your face as usual, before kicking the door closed behind him and lifting you in his arms.

"turns out I and your mom are besties now", you had said with so much confidence that he had to turn around to look at his mom to confirm it in the kitchen. "she taught me how to properly cook samgyeopsal and i was stunned with the amount of gochujang comes with it!".

gun-woo giggled at the surprise, tapping at your leg three times so you could get up and help his mother with the dishes. his tense physic was viscerally beaten by his coach today, and he doubted he could stand for more than two minutes without collapsing on the floor.

that's why your question had him exceptionally shocked while devouring his mother's samgyeopsal minutes later, salty lips outlined in a 'o' form while looking from his mother to you in confusion.

"what?". he asks.

"would you ever fight me?". you repeat genuinely curious for the answer.

"no". gun-woo answered simply, round innocent eyes staring right back at you as if you had grown another head.

you slouch back in your seat. cheek pressed to the couch as you look disappointed at your boyfriend eating at the table.

"why not?". you both could hear gun-woo's mother laugh on the other side of the table, finding something to quickly excuse herself from the living room and eavesdrop on the entire ordeal from her room.

"w-why?", gun-woo analyzed your posture to see if you were pranking him or something, but he found none. "i d-don't think that would be nice... for any of us". he replied with a terrified look on his face, the scar on his cheek hid underneath his right hand.

"just for your information, i was a gold medal in taekwondo once in school". you defend yourself.

"when you were 8 yeah, i know".

“and!”, you continue, ignoring him. “woojin-oppa already told me i was quite strong for someone my height”.

“baby, woo-jin just wanted you to pay for his dinner that day, you know that”. gun-woo explains blatantly, making you gasp at his lack of manners.

"i wanna fight you though, i could totally beat you", you said getting no response from the fighter, which was starting to infuriate you even more. "kim geun-woo, do you love me or not?". you asked starting to get up from the couch.

"stop looking at me like that, you're scaring me". you roll your eyes, getting up from the couch and walking towards your very tall and built boyfriend who refuses to fight with you. "what's up?". he looks up at you, wondering what the hell happened to his girlfriend that night.

"fight me". your serious tone shouldn't have a strong man like gun-woo scared, but that's what it does.

"look, i'm tired today okay? give me a second". he whines like a child and you would be finding him adorable because of his pout if it wasn't for the scar across the right side of his face staring right back at you.

hot unaware boyfriend indeed.

"kim geun-woo, don't you love me?" you hold the collar of his shirt, brows knit together in fake intimidation as gun-woo raises a brow your way.

“ya, you’re scaring me”, he repeats the statement looking at you as if challenging you to do what you are thinking. "you're not going to let me live if i don't fight you right now, are you?". he rubs the plush of your clothed thigh and you slap his hand away, glancing in the direction of his mother's room with your brows still furrowed, surprised at his bold antics.

"mister kim, you are under arrest for perverse behavior with your ring opponent".

"arrest?". his brows shoot up and a big smile emerges from his mouth. "aish-, don't be so hard on me, judge". he plays along, rubbing your waist quickly before taking your hands off his collar. “if you succeed in moving me from the chair, i’ll fight with you”. gun-woo had that stupid smirk he has when he’s about to win something.

you were about to prove him wrong.

“deal!”.

in instant seconds, you’re already beside him, using your entire body weight to push your boyfriend off the chair. the clock begins to tick away as gun-woo calmly finishes his dinner, enjoying a little too much of your little grunts as if you were not even beside him.

“how…much….did…you…eat today?”. a stupid grin was displayed on your boyfriend’s face when you gave up and you did not appreciate it.

it seems mister kim liked the ego soothing, after all, he was still just a man.

“why are you even smiling like that?!”. immediately, his grin was erased as if it was never there in the first place. “i’m 100% sure it is just because of the samgyeopsal your mom made. have you seen how much pepper that woman put into that?! no? i have!”. gun-woo laughed loudly at that, wondering in which standup comedy mister hong found you.

just when he thought it was over, you kept pushing his shoulders in the other direction, making him laugh even more.

“you’re not giving up, are you?”.

“never!”. gun-woo had to breathe calmly to steady his laughs and gently push your hands away.

“c’mon let’s clean this and go to bed, right?”. the gentle smile his lips displayed was hands-down playing unfair in your opinion. you could tell it in his eyes he was tired, defeatedly letting him go. “if you keep grunting my mom will come asking if everything is alright”. his gaze was so gentle that it almost made you angry.

“it is not alright”. you played the puppy eyes on him, hugging his figure while he moved from the table to the sink to clean his dishes.

that's when you noticed his little wince when you hugged his torso.

“my boyfriend didn’t let me win, he doesn’t love me”.

“you’re just weak, admit it”. again, the smirk was there and you hated it.

“where do you think you’re going with this audacity, mister?”. you unglued him and crossed your arms in front of the sink, taking the dishes from his hands and stopping him from doing any more work today. you both stared at each others eyes with fondness, silently speaking your concerns.

kim geun-woo, you do not fool me.

“anywhere i want, since you can’t stop me”. he laughed out loud, and you knew then that your boyfriend was more tired than he was showing. he only showed his boldness in other situations, so it was really surprising you his sense of humor right now.

which made you worry.

“ya, how much you and wonsuk-subaenim trained today?”, you asked concerned, putting the dishes aside to analyze his eyes on your tip toes. “you should’ve eaten more before training this morning”. there was an unconscious pout on your lower lip and gun-woo noticed that, smiling weakly while gluing your body into his.

“don’t worry, i’m okay”. he smiled grateful, even bowing his head a little in gratitude for you, a peck left in your brow that made you temporarily dumb. "he just wanted to test some more of my limits".

"are you sure?". starry eyes staring right back at him was hands-down an unfair playing, in his opinion. "can i see it?".

of course, you would notice it, gun-woo knew that much. but even so, he didn't want to make his mom worry more about him, and so did you.

"can we do that when we get home?", he politely asks while rubbing your arms, tone not much louder than a whisper now that the topic was more serious. "i wanted you to take a look but mom's here and i don't want her finding out about the championship yet". he explains.

"are you sure?", you ask worried, soothingly rubbing the balmy spot you could feel underneath his sweater next to his left rib. “it feels damp, oppa”.

gun-woo glanced at you and stopped your hand in the rem of his shirt with a silent plead, silently asking for you to let go. his kind smile and polite nod convinced you that the bruise could wait a little more, and you had no other option than to trust him.

“what happened?”.

“we used the machine again”, he starts explaining sensing your curious concern. gun-woo knew that you needed a little more reassurance, since you weren’t used to leaving patients with bruises behind in your line of work. “it presented a little malfunction, two sizes above mine and i almost went flying across the wall”.

“you and your stupid machines”. you scold angrily, making him laugh. “why train with a fucking machine when you pay thousands to have a coach like him?”.

“it’s solved now, don’t worry”. you looked in his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. you knew about his surprisingly high pain tolerance, even for a fighter, plus your boyfriend tend to have a habit of hiding his sorrows from you.

intensively staring at him, gun-woo noticed by your eyes that you were quickly going to get lost in your own thoughts, so he had to react rather fast.

“hey, i’m good now, okay? we got 8 months for the tournament and i’m doing pretty well, i’m not going to lie”. he took your face in his hands, making you focus on his pretty eyes and his innocent smile. “do you trust me, baby? i’m okay”.

"okay", you nodded understandable and he left another kiss on your right brow, proudly looking at you.

“you could’ve told me, i would have brought the food to your house so you wouldn’t have to drive more”. still not yet convinced, you check his temperature with your bare hands to check if everything is okay, guiding him to the couch so he could rest. “i will clean everything and then we can go, ‘kay? i’ll drive”.

“no, no, no, i’m okay. you don’t have to”. he excuses, refusing to sit down and taking your hands with him.

you hated his excessive politeness sometimes.

“ya, i’m calling your mom if you don’t obey me”. you threaten him and he lightens up a little. “now sit and wait, i’ll be quick”. when he finally sat down and smiled at you, you felt his grip on your wrist tighten again.

“you look too cute taking care of me”. a kiss was stolen from your lips and quickly your eyes were as round as your mouth.

“gun-woo! you’re crazy!”, the slap was maybe a little too much, but that’s not really your fault, now was it? “we are on your mother’s apartment!”.

“ouch! she is not even here right now, don't go nuts". he said rubbing the shoulder that you slapped. "for someone your height, you are quite strong, did you know that? jesus christ”. he mocked you with a pout.

"that's it, i'm suing wonsuk-subaenim's ass for making you delulu". you pretend to run away and gun-woo laughs at that, pulling you onto him one last time to kiss you.

"i am wounded, woman, have mercy". sometimes, you miss the unaware, irritably-innocent, and extreme-shy gun-woo you met a few months ago after he became friends with your cousin.

"kim geun-woo, behave or i am going to let you die on the streets".

"i'll accept it if you don't drive".

"are you calling me a bad driver?". the insult-

"no". he said nonchalantly, placing a last kiss on your cheek and letting you go. "let's go so we won't be late".

heya! a little disclaimer: everything i post is part of a one-universe post-ep8 that i've created, if that's okay. hope you liked it xx

#bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds x reader #kim geun woo x reader #kim gun woo #woo do hwan #bloodhounds kim geun woo

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