#i don't like talking about the 'author' but this is long overdue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrpenguinpants · 1 year

Text

Please go out with me for tax benefits!

— When you randomly pointed to a handsome man and declared him to be your boyfriend, you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just wanted a couples discount!

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 2: Overdue Bills [Masterlist]

This was originally written for my upcoming "Help me break my engagement by marrying me instead." fic but I got carried away and it became too plot-heavy. So I made a new one. Most of these have nothing to do with money, I just thought the title was funny.

Alhaitham

You blame Kaveh for this. This is entirely his fault and you will not be convinced otherwise. If he hadn't opened his big mouth to Alhaitham about the fact you've been spouting that he was your boyfriend, then you wouldn't be in this mess. It wasn't even that serious, it's not like you were actually emotionally invested with the man and this was all a delusional dream. You barely knew the guy aside from the multiple rumors about him in the first place. You just needed to access some limited-edition books for your thesis and his name happened to be the easiest way to get ahold of them. Sure, you may be lying to authority for the better half of a year about your relationship with the scribe, but it's not your fault they didn't ask questions. If you happened to threaten to tell your very scary and very influential "boyfriend" about this "mistreatment", that's just a byproduct if anything. But now you have a very irritated silver-haired man crowding into your personal space asking why the hell you're announcing to the world that you're both in a relationship. It's creepy. He called you creepy. Is this where you roll over and die in shame?

You swear you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just happened to spot him in the background while the librarian was giving you a hard time and your dumb brain-to-mouth filter was taking a break that day. So you just blurted that you were Alhaitham's partner and that he would be very upset to hear that you were being treated this way. It's not completely far-fetched, Alhaitham seems like a very, very, private person and on the off chance you were telling the truth? Well, the poor librarian didn't want to lose her job. Besides, it's not like you were planning on doing anything illegal and you don't think you're the absolute worst person to be fake-dating.

By some stroke of luck, or maybe he felt too much pity for you, Alhaitham decides to cut you a deal rather than get you kicked out of the Akademiya. He gets multiple love letters, confessions, and heart-eyed individuals trailing after him all the time. Frankly, he's getting tired of it and since you've already taken the liberty, he won't say anything if you don't say anything. Though he makes it clear that if you ever do anything embarrassing, you're taking the fall and he's going to pretend he doesn't know you. A bit harsh but that's only a safety net. Plus it's not like you actually want to date him so he wouldn't have any commitments. The added bonus is that since he's well-known for having a...rough personality, you don't need to act affectionately with the man or go the extra mile. As long as you have each other's backing, you'll get to check out any textbook you want for free and he gets to be left alone. So for both your benefits, to the rest of the Akademiya you and him are a couple.

You should have known this deal was way too good to be true. As soon as people hear that Alhaitham acknowledges that you're his partner, they're on you like rabid fungi. In comparison to the scribe, you're far easier to prod and poke for any gossip and your quiet day-to-day life is suddenly thrown into the wind. Multiple people a day come to bother you about what it's like to date the moody man. It gets to a point where you have to actually dress incognito just to go and get some coffee. Seriously, didn't people have deadlines and exams to prepare for then to hound you down to talk about your fake love life? Alhaitham is no help either, only shrugging off your complaints and telling you that this is what you agreed to.

He's a horrible partner, fake or not. This isn't your storybook romance where he suddenly falls in love with you, he straight up ignores you sometimes! If anything, this entire situation has stopped you from feeling intimidated by him. Before you wouldn't dare approach him, his appearance and body were enough for you to shy away. You're impulsive, not blind. Alhaitham is drop-dead gorgeous but now that you've reached such an absurd situation it stops intimidating you. You begin to regularly pester the man because you know that even though you're both not actually dating, it would look really bad if he shunned you constantly.

He actually doesn't mind you. Unlike Kaveh or anyone else who interacts with him, you know how to be quiet and independent. Most of the time you both sit in silence, the only noise between the two of you being the flipping of pages and the scratching of ink against paper. If you ever do speak, it's always with a purpose. It's just a bonus that while everyone stares at your table, no one ever approaches. If they need to speak with him, they see your body right next to him and they decide to come back at a later time when he's alone.

Over time, he finds himself seeking you out instead of the other way around. He's come to find your presence comforting and it's the only time when he can actually sit down and read. Being an observant person, he starts to notice your little habits. For one, touch seems to be how you interact with others. You always bump elbows whenever you greet him, pinching his half coat whenever you want to drag him to see whatever captured your attention, and nudging his arm with your hand whenever you need him to bend down so you can whisper something into his ear. He's honestly surprised and concerned that he doesn't push you away with your skinship. If it were anyone else, he would have sent them a sharp glare and pushed him off but he doesn't for you.

All things must come to an end eventually and you've finally finished writing the last sentences for your thesis. Your pat on the back is the firm shut of a book as a deep sigh escapes your lips. Tired but relieved. The goodbye is uneventful, you simply tell him that you don't need him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he's free to live out the single life. He just nods and with that, you're gone.

No one says anything when they notice that Alhaithem sits at a table alone for the nth time that week. There are a few whispers back and forth about how you either got fed up with this attitude or he realized that he was way out of your league. Either way, everyone assumes you and Alhaithem are no longer together and his routine before you arrived settles back in. Yet, he feels off. He refuses to call it longing, you both were hardly affectionate in the first place, but he feels a bit lonely without your presence beside him. it's been plaguing his mind ever since you packed your things and left. He's hardly been able to concentrate on his book, rereading the same sentence for the fourth time before snapping it shut. Letting out a deep sigh, he runs a hand through his hair before setting it against his closed eyes. What's gotten into him?

"Is this seat taken?"

His eyes shoot open, turning around to see you with an armful of books looking expectantly at him. You look nervous and he can't lie to himself that he doesn't find that just the slightest bit endearing. He can tell that you're struggling to carry all of them from the slight shake in your hands.

"I thought our deal was over?" he says this but he gets up anyways to take the books out of your hands and places them on the table. You just roll your eyes at him because of course that's what he would say first and push forward. You're probably the only one who would act so brazenly in front of him besides Kaveh but he doesn't find it irritating when you do it.

"What? So I need to be in a relationship with you just to sit at a table? I know your ego is big but not thattt big," you stretch your words as you settle comfortably into your seat.

He wonders when he started thinking of that specific chair as yours.

"No. I suppose not," he says with an exasperated smile as he sits back down. You beam back at him as you shuffle your chair closer to him as you open your textbook, your fingertips gave that familiar tug for him to lean in closer.

"Good, because I need some help with this section. I have no idea what the hell "bloom" is."

Ayato

Although Valentine's day was mostly celebrated in Mondstadt and Sumeru, Inazuma still liked to dabble in the festivities during the day of love. Various couples' discounts on tricolored Dango or limited edition books from the Yae Publishing House. There was one popular series in particular that was having a huge discount to celebrate the holiday and even though you weren't in the market for a partner, you weren't going to pass up on such a steal. Only for your excitement to fall flat when the lady informed you that the discount was for couples only.

You can't believe this. You just stood in line for hours only for them to tell you this now? What kind of shady place was this? Of course, they didn't advertise the specifics of this sale, they knew this book was popular. People waiting in line wouldn't just walk away once they found out and they would end up paying full price! Well, two can play this game. You randomly gesture off to the side, saying that your boyfriend was just standing off to the side because he wanted to grab some refreshments. You aren't really looking where you're pointing, too busy digging through your pouch and counting your coins of mora before a sharp gasp stops you. The lady quickly bows and beams at you with a mega-watt customer service smile. She hands the book to you free of charge while profusely thanking you for your patronage. You look off to the side but you don't see anyone, but you weren't going to say no, so you shrug and take it. A free book is a free book.

To be fair, you were making it really easy for the Archons to mess with you. You hear whispers around you that you can't make out, anytime you glance at passing people, they quickly bow and shuffle along. You have a horrible sinking feeling forming in the pit of your stomach and you quickly rush home so you can avoid whatever the hell you just caused. Unfortunately, word travels fast in Inazuma, and every shop you pass by you're being confronted left and right with sales pitches and gifts of appreciation for your partner's hard work. All of which you decline, half of it because you're not actually in a relationship and the other half because you have no interest in their gifts. But you've already dug yourself this far in your grave so you just give a hasty no thank you as you try and dodge everyone who looks at you with that glimmer in their eyes. Who did you point at to receive this much praise?

Ayato is greatly confused when people approach him to congratulate him on his engagement. He wasn't planning on getting married any time soon, his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner taking up most of this time. Did the elders set someone up for him without informing him first? He's curious about who his mystery person is but everyone he asks doesn't seem to know where they went. Apparently, his fiancee is shy but humble, declining gifts from various shopkeepers no matter how expensive they are.

That's until one of the children points in your direction and his eyes slide over to you who looks just as confused as him. He's never seen you in his life and you don't look like anyone from a significant clan. He gets clued in that you boldly announced your relationship with him when you were checking out a specific book meant for couples only. Ah, he's starting to understand now. He offers a piece of candy for the helpful information as he makes his way over to you. His mysterious fiancee.

As soon as the man in front of you says Lord Kamisato's name, the uneasy weight in your stomach drops. You quickly spin on your heel to see the pale blue hair and amused light purple eyes. Oh. Oh, Archon's above, please, out of everyone you could have pointed to, please don't make it be the Yashiro Commissioner. You're about to burn this book into ashes and do a ceremony to banish whatever youkai were stored within the pages if you manage to make it out of this alive.

If Ayato was upset about this situation he's found himself in, it would be immediately wiped away because you look like you're about to collapse. He's trying his best to not laugh at your torment right in front of you, but the mix of emotions that's so openly displayed on your face is making it hard. It's obvious that you didn't mean for this to happen, you've just tripped and fallen into a web of misunderstandings. Too entangled to explain yourself without making a fool out of yourself.

If looks could kill, this storekeeper would be dead on the floor twice over. This man calls out to the Yashiro Commissioner, and just to add salt to the wound, proudly congratulates him on his engagement with you. You said nothing about an engagement, you're far too young to be thinking about that thank you very much. But Ayato just nods along with that ever-pleasant smile without bothering to correct the situation. You're not sure if you should be thankful or not. He might be planning your murder in his mind so you stay silent as well.

When Ayato's gaze shifts to you, you do what any creature does when they're in danger and there's nowhere to run. You hide. You automatically raise your book to cover your face so you don't need to look at the source of your embarrassment. Although it does nothing to hide just how red your face is, you don't see him and that's good enough for you. But this also means you don't see the questioning glance the storekeeper shoots Ayato about your behavior, to which Ayato gives a pleasant smile and waves a hand to dismiss the situation.

"Please excuse my fiancee, we didn't mean to announce our engagement so early," Ayato muses, and the storekeeper nods in understanding while you bring your book down low enough to peer over the edges of the pages. Is...is he covering for you? He looks down expectantly at you but when you don't move, he awkwardly coughs into his fist and tilts his head toward the shopkeeper.

"A-Ah yes, that's right! It was a slip of the tongue and I hadn't realized I said it out loud. Please excuse my behavior," you bow and you can hear Ayato turning his head to snort into his hand. This is awful. You think you would prefer if he just outted you so you didn't need to show the world how awful your acting skills are. This is why you read plays, not star in them. But the shopkeeper nods in understanding, apologizing for saying your engagement so loud for others to hear before you're leaving with Ayato's arm wrapped around your waist.

"I'm deeply sorry. There was a discount for couples only and I just pointed in a random direction and it just happened to land on you. I swear I didn't mean to start any of this," you quickly rush out as you bow before Ayato as soon as you're out of sight from the public eye. He still has that annoying look in his eyes but you're completely at his mercy right now. The smug bastard definitely knows that.

"It's no trouble at all. I found the situation quite entertaining," he chuckles before looking you up and down. Okay...a tiny bit weird but you suppose your actions are worse. There's a long silence between the two of you as if he's pondering something and you've had enough of today's events.

"Um...well if that's everything I'll be getting out of your hair. Please enjoy the rest of your day Lord Kamisato," you mumble as you turn to leave but his hand hooks onto the back of your kimono and drags you right back.

"Ah, ah. It would make a bad impression if my fiancee suddenly left me on Valentine's Day. Oh and please, call me Ayato," he smiles that same polite smile but his eyes tell a different story entirely. His smile even widens at how hard you're biting your lip as you match his with a strained one. For Archon's sake, you just wanted to buy a book, how did you get into this mess?!

Kazuha

As soon as Inazuma's borders reopened, you were jumping on the fastest ship back to Liyue. You even got extra lucky that your good friend Beidou happened to be on the pier and offered you a well-deserved ride back to your home free of charge. You've been so homesick but unable to leave due to the regulation the Electro Archon placed, so to say that you were excited to finally go back was an understatement. Although the Crux Fleet was mainly an armed carrier delivering goods between places separated by sea, it did occasionally transport passengers if they paid enough. It only made sense that others would be like you and wish to return home as soon as possible. It's too bad that one of them happened to take one look at you and decide that you were born to be his.

It's an incredibly awkward affair. This wealthy businessman doesn't appear to mean any harm but he's incredibly dense with no sense of social awareness. Although you've politely declined his advances, he doesn't seem to stop. Even when Beidou herself threatens to throw the man overboard, he just keeps his distance and makes heart eyes at you. Unfortunately for you, Beidou can't actually throw him into the cruel watery depths no matter how much you plead with her. The man seems to be an important figure from Snezhnaya so she can't exactly treat him badly. Thus you spend most of your time ducking away and running away from your creepy admirer.

You're usually not so bold but the mix of overwhelming homesickness and just wanting to get this journey over and done with, all of it compels you to act rashly. If your new admirer can't take a simple no then you'll find a different way and show him you're off limits. You've seen the man who sits on the crow's nest, you believe Beidou said his name was Kazuha, whose been a part of her crew for a while now. You've only made passing small talk with each other and he seems like a nice person, at least you hope so. Because as soon as his feet touch the ship's deck, you're throwing yourself at him. You have to give him credit, he has lightning-fast reflexes and is a lot stronger than his demeanor expresses since he manages to catch you and stop you both from sprawling across the floor.

You make a show of throwing your arms around him and whining about how he doesn't spend enough time with poor dear you. You can tell he's infinitely confused so you lean in and whisper into his ear about your creepy stalker who can't take a no. Your eyes desperately plead with him to play along with you, just until the ship reaches Liyue Harbour. It only takes Kazuha to look over your shoulder and lock gazes with said "stalker" before he's turning to you with the most tender smile on his lips and a soft apology for being neglectful. A promise to spend more quality time to make up for his behavior. You swear that should have been an omen because you feel your heart stop for a second right then and there.

It's not completely out there. As the lookout, he would have to stay up in the crow's nest most of the day, and given how soft spoken Kazuha normally is, he doesn't look like the confrontational type. But he does make good on his fake promise and you find yourself spending most of your time in the crow's nest with Kazuha rather than ducking into the shadows of the lower deck. Kazuha is a relaxing presence and you can understand why he stays up here rather than with the rest of the crew. The gentle sea breeze brushes through your hair and it's so peaceful all the way up in the sky. You're almost jealous that he has an anemo vision because you think you'd love to stay in the winds forever.

He's also a gentleman through and through. You're not entirely sure if he's just pretending alongside you or if that's just how he normally acts. You think both options are equally plausible and endearing. At some point, you forget that you're supposed to be doing this for show to keep a creepy man away from you and you genuinely start to seek him out. It's during one night when you watch Kazuha whistle a tune through a leaf that you realize just how deep you're in. Now your position is reversed and you start to feel like the creepy heart-eyed stalker. It's something that you must absolutely not let happen, not on your watch.

Your sudden distance from Kazuha leaves him a bit hurt. He knows that this originally started as an act but he felt that you and him were getting close to each other without any ulterior motives. That all your talks of your dreams and aspiration were real and meaningful. But now that you've suddenly pulled back, he question's if everything was made up in his head. It's not like you owe him anything, he decided to help you out from of his own volition. Beidou can only look at this scene painfully at her two idiotic friends pushing themselves away from each other because they can't sit down and talk it out.

She drags the two of you into a private room, her only warning to fix your emotional angst or she really will throw you both overboard. You both know she's entirely serious so you both obediently nod as she slams the door closed.

Beidou leans against the wooden crates with her head propped up with her arm. She should probably stop watching, she's being far too nosy with her friend's love life, but what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't? She hopes you both managed to talk it out and realize that you're both crushing hard on each other. She had been far too busy with Liyue fastly approaching to check in on your progress but from the looks of things, she thinks everything went well. With the red cheeks and your fingertips linked together, it's so cute that she wants to gag on her wine. Don't get her wrong, she's happy for you and Kazuha, but any more of this puppy love is going to send her into an early grave.

"You're not going to stay in Liyue?" she overhears you say. Huh? She honestly thought that Kazuha might pitch a tent and finally settle down with you but the small shake of his head and your fallen expression says otherwise. Damn, talk about a heartbreaker. But he gives you a soft expression, something really vulnerable, and his hand comes up to caress your cheek- and that's her cue to turn away. That's something that even she knows she shouldn't be watching. She instead takes another swig of her cup.

"Captain."

She looks up to see Kazuha standing beside her, the air of nature and sea breeze clinging to him wherever he goes. She politely doesn't bring up the charm clutched tightly in his hands.

"You sure about this kid?" Beidou asks, her eyes still trained on her empty cup of booze. She doesn't need to look to know that he's watching your back disappear into the crowd longingly.

"If I try to force something I know I'm not ready to finish, it would only lead to disaster. Right now isn't the right time. But I'm sure in the future, our paths will cross again," Kazuha nods to himself solemnly. This time Beidou does look at him before she shows a fond smile herself before she brings her arm back and slaps it against Kazuha's back. It's loud and hard enough to jolt him out of his temporary sadness.

"If you ever need a ride back to Liyue, just let me know. We'll get you there in no time lover boy," Beidou grins cheekily as Kazuha flushes a bright red. How cute, he can't even be honest with himself huh?

8K notes · View notes

fanficimagery · 8 months

Text

The Lost Girl

You just wanted to travel and forget all about the drama you left behind. You didn't expect to fall in with four boys who would become another family. Maybe more.

[Part Three of Three]

Author's Note: Y'all remember Elena's dress when she went to the party at the Mikaelson's? I think it was black and gold? Well anyway, that's what YN's dress is gonna be like except it's black and maroon. I'm totally unoriginal lol. The fight is totally anti-climatic and the end just… ends. I was so ready to end this. I'm sorry.

Words: 7.2K

The only good thing about your upcoming party is that Rebekah's completely taken over all the planning. She's recruited Elijah since he's the easiest to talk to between her brothers, leaving Klaus at the mansion with you and the boys. David and Dwayne love to hear about the history Klaus has seen, whereas Paul and Marko love hearing about all things chaotic and bloody.

You're all lounging around the sitting area as Klaus fills in your friends on the drama he caused when he first waltzed in Mystic Falls from his point of view when the front door opens and closes.

"YN. Gilbert."

"Uh oh. Someone's in trouble." Marko giggles.

You flip him off and then turn towards the archway where yet another blonde marches through. "Hello to you too, Caroline. It's rude not to knock, you know?"

She huffs. "Oh shut up. We've all tried ki-" She immediately shuts up herself, taking stock of the new faces in the room. But she's Caroline Forbes, so she rolls with it, easily lying. "We've all tried sabotaging each other multiple times. There's no need to knock between friends."

You and Klaus both smirk, but don't call her out on it.

"Whatever," she grumbles. "I just came over to demand why you didn't tell me you were planning a party?! You know I love planning parties."

"I don't even want this party, Care, but Paul and Marko are all about seeing what type of parties I had to attend when I was younger."

At her pout and look of indifference between your friends, you quickly introduce them to each other. All the boys politely greet her and she them, and it hardly takes her a moment to deduce who your boyfriend is.

"So you're the boyfriend?" Her eyes narrow at Dwayne. "Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask.

"It means you have a type. Dark hair, broody looking…"

Klaus chuckles. "She's not wrong, love."

"You're both annoying," you deadpan. Then glancing back at Caroline, you ask, "Is that all you came over for? To demand why you're not part of the party planning committee?"

"Yes. And to see if you already have a dress all picked out."

"I do. Rebekah had a bunch of dresses delivered and I chose one. You want to see what's left on the rack?"

"Yes, please! I hate shopping last minute."

You grin and walk over to Caroline, hooking your arm with hers. "Let's go upstairs then." Looking at Klaus and the boys, you wink. "If there's trouble you want to get into before Elijah comes home, now is the time to do it. Caroline and I are long overdue for some girl talk."

"You heard her, boys, let's go." Klaus downs the rest of his drink before settling the tumbler aside and then standing up. Marko and Paul cheer, shoving at each other as Dwayne and David casually climb to their feet.

Everyone except Dwayne makes their way out and then he walks up to you. "Need anything?"

"No, I'm good, but thanks." He nods before leaning in to kiss your forehead, cheek, and finally your lips.

You're laughing as you shove him away, eyes twinkling. He returns your smile before nodding at Caroline and turning to go catch up with his brothers and Klaus.

As soon as he's out of earshot, Caroline gushes, "Oh my god, that was so adorable! Where did you even find him?!"

"In his hometown." You chuckle and then lead her towards the stairs so you can show her the dresses in your room. "I actually met Paul and Marko first, but when I met Dwayne.. it was like love at first sight." You smile as you remember meeting the dark haired vampire for the first time. "We kind of tortured everyone else with the 'will they or won't they' schtick, so it became public knowledge that we were both off limits."

"What changed?"

Getting bit by a werewolf, you mentally admit, but can't say that out loud. Not yet. So instead, you choose something that's easily believable because the scenario really did happen. "After missing a day of hanging out with them, some girls decided to move in. When I decided to surprise them one night, one girl was standing too close to Dwayne, so I walked right up to him and kissed him."

"You didn't!?"

"I did." You laugh. "And then Elijah and Klaus visited, informing me that Elena was getting impatient that I hadn't come back to Mystic Falls to make sure I was really okay."

"Oh so you'll let Klaus know where you now live, but not us?"

When you glance at Caroline, you notice she's not truly upset about it. "Yes because Klaus won't drag me back to Mystic Falls the moment something inconveniences Elena's life."

Your friend winces, but doesn't refute your words.

In your room, you walk to your closet while Caroline walks to the rack of dresses that's in the opposite corner. You grab the dress bag, pull it out and unzip it to show your friend. "Anyway, this is what I'm wearing." The strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline is maroon with a fitted bodice covered in black beads and black ribbons right beneath your bust. The skirt slightly flares out with an overlay of black tulle so the maroon still peeks out.

Caroline sighs. "This is so pretty. Is your boyfriend matching?"

You laugh as you zip the bag back up and put it away. "I'm pretty sure Elijah will get him a matching pocket square or something."

"So he's got Elijah's stamp of approval?"

"I think so."

"Sounds serious." She turns back to the rack, moving aside dress after dress. "Is he the reason you're staying where you're staying?"

"No. I was already planning on staying there. Dwayne was a surprise, but a welcomed one."

Caroline glances at you. "Ohhh, you're in deep. Look at that smile."

You purse your lips, having been smiling without knowing you were smiling. But seeing as she's already seen it, you give up and laugh. "Ugh, this is gonna sound stupid, but remember when I said seeing Dwayne was like love at first sight? Do you believe in that?"

Your friend freezes and then fully turns to face you. "Spill. Now."

You groan again and head over to your bed, dropping down on the edge. "When I first met Dwayne, it was no shock that I instantly found him attractive. What was a shock, however, is how jealous and protective I am of him. We haven't even known each that long to warrant such loyalty, but when Damon threatened Dwayne… Caroline, I saw red. I wanted to rip Damon's heart out right then and there."

"Hmm. That is weird. You've never been one to get worked up over a guy. You usually just shrug it off and move on."

"I know!"

"And how does Dwayne feel?"

"I'm assuming the same. Damon pinned me to the wall by my throat and Dwayne saw, and he was visibly shaking. I could see it took everything in him to hold himself back and then when I got back to the table, his hand gripped my thigh and didn't move until we stood up to leave."

"How insane would it be if it turned out that soulmates were real?" You laugh. "I'm serious! Ugh, you're so lucky. I wish I had someone who looked at me the way Dwayne looks at you."

"You do have someone who looks at you like that, but you refuse to entertain him because you're afraid of what everyone else will think."

Caroline frowns. "He hurt us. A lot."

"So did Damon, but that didn't stop Elena from jumping on his dick."

The blonde vampire grimaces. "I rather not think about that."

"Mhmm."

"Now will you help me choose a dress?"

Without even glancing at the rack, you say, "Go with the blue one that looks like mine, but has off the shoulder straps. You always look good in blue."

The day before your party, Rebekah had the ballroom completely transformed. You had happily stayed out of her way, listening to her bark orders from the comfort of your room. Dwayne and David took refuge with you, purposely not saying a word to their brothers as they wandered downstairs and got roped into lending a helping hand. And with Rebekah barking orders, Paul and Marko stayed in line.

Then the morning of your party, Rebekah had even taken it upon herself to have a buffet of breakfast ready for everyone. Marko practically salivated at the sight of the food, mentioning that they'd never eaten like kings and queens before. David then reminded him that they never had the appetite for human food quite like they have now after wrapping the bracelets around their wrists, and Marko conceded while stuffing his face with sausage and eggs.

You don't get to rest long after eating, Rebekah whisking you away to bathe and pamper before getting ready for the night. You end up in a bath with so many essential oils and salts that you nearly doze off, but Dwayne enters the bathroom and decides he wants to wash your hair.

Rebekah enters the bathroom when she hears you groan, only to huff and cross her arms over her chest. "Why are you two disgustingly adorable? Stop it right now."

With your head tilted back and Dwayne's fingers scratching against your scalp, you grin. "Shut up. If our positions were switched, you'd be smug as hell right now. Let me enjoy this."

"I'm honestly surprised he's not in there with you."

"And have your brothers glare at me throughout the party?" Dwayne asks. "No thanks."

"Fair." Rebekah continues to watch you with a fond smile on her face. "Well when you get out, Dwayne can help David wrangle his other brothers while you and I get ready in my room."

"Okay."

Dwayne finishes washing your hair before you stand, uncaring that your body is bare beneath the suds. He watches as you scrub your body down in the shower before grabbing a towel and handing it to you. Then after wringing out your hair and drying your body, you use the towel to wrap around your hair before taking the offered robe to drape around your body.

"Thank you." You reach up on the tips of your toes, giving him a chaste kiss. "Now it's your turn. I'll be with Rebekah and most likely won't see you until the start of the party."

"Mmm. Have fun." Dwayne kisses you once more and then pats you on the butt as you walk on by.

You're still smiling as you enter Rebekah's room, laughing when she's waiting for you with a champagne glass nearly filled to the brim. "Happy birthday, darling."

"Thank you, Rebekah." You accept the glass, clink it against the one she produces herself, and then proceed to down it in one go. "Now can I nap?"

"No."

You groan as Rebekah leads you to her vanity, making you sit.

. .

Rebekah starts on your hair first, making sure to detangle it and then spritz various hair products into it. She leaves out a couple of strands on either side of your head to frame your face and then loosely braids the rest of it to hang over your left shoulder. She sprays your hair again to make sure the hairdo holds, and then gets started on your makeup.

The make-up is kept mostly natural and nude, the only color being a hint of blush on your cheekbones, smokey black eyeshadow, and black eyeliner. Throughout the entire time, your phone was dinging with text messages from your family and friends, and you took the time to thank each of them.

Taking a break, Rebekah has sandwiches and fruit delivered to the room via Elijah, and it isn't long until Klaus shows up with presents with the rest of the boys trailing him. The Mikaelson's give you jewelry and money, a proper camera to capture the sights you see, and a brand-new laptop to edit and post the photos. You thank them profusely and even assure Dwayne, David, Paul, and Marko that you hadn't been expecting gifts from them so they can stop with the guilty expressions.

Then after kicking out the men from the room, you get started on Rebekah's hair and make-up. With her instruction, you get everything done pretty well.

When the time comes to finally step into your dress, you shamelessly drop your robe and step into a pair of panties. Rebekah holds your dress low for you and you step into it while she slides it up your body. Then after arranging your breasts to fill the cups, Rebekah zips you up.

Rebekah can only smile as she helps you don your newest necklace and bracelet, and then quickly dresses herself in a dress similar to yours, except the colors are black and gold. Plus, she dons a pair of black satin gloves as well.

"Well don't you two look beautiful."

You turn around to find Dwayne decked out in a suit with a maroon pocket square to match you. He has a few thin braids on one side of his head, only for all of his hair to be tied back in a stylish messy man-bun. "Holy shit." You look him up and down, licking and biting your bottom lip as you try to reign in your spiraling thoughts.

"Down girl," Rebekah muses, patting your shoulder. "It sounds like your guests are starting to arrive, so there's no use in messing up all the hard work I've done."

"Yeah, yeah. Get out." Rebekah laughs as you shoo her out of her own room, bidding Dwayne good luck as she passes him. He steps further into the room, and you readily accept him as he goes toe to toe with you. You lean up and kiss him. "You look handsome."

"It's all thanks to Elijah and Klaus. They really know how to style the riffraff."

You chuckle and kiss him once more. "So, how's it looking down there?"

"Marko and Paul are regretting the fancy suits, but David's keeping them well in line. And Klaus has already plied us with several blood bags each so we're not feeling peckish around your guests."

You sigh. "I think I should have indulged in a little blood myself. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

"Come on. It won't be that bad."

"Famous last words."

Dwayne smirks. "Let's go greet your guests."

Looping your arm around Dwayne's, you rely on him to get down the grand staircase. And by the time you make it to the main floor, Caroline is arriving on the arm of her mother.

"Caroline! Sheriff Forbes!" You greet them with smiles and kisses to the cheek. "I'm happy you two could make it."

"Likewise." Sheriff Forbes smiles before warily glancing around. "When I got the invitation, I wasn't aware if the party was legit or if the Mikaelson's were up to no good again."

"I can see why you would think that," you say. "But when it comes to me, the Mikaelson's are family."

"But Elena-"

"Mom." Caroline politely nudges her, shaking her head.

Sheriff Forbes closes her mouth and takes a breath. Then smiling sadly, she says, "You never forgave her for the… attack on you and Caroline," she says while glancing at Dwayne.

"Oh. I'm sorry!" You say. "Liz, this is Dwayne. My boyfriend." Sheriff Forbes and Dwayne smile at one another, shaking hands. "And I forgave my sister for that a long time ago," you assure her. "What I don't care for is the way she and Damon treat me or my friends whenever something doesn't go to their liking. They don't take others' feelings into consideration."

Sheriff Forbes smiles tightly, nodding. "Fair enough."

"Well, happy birthday!" Caroline chirps. "Now point us to the food so we can get out of your hair."

Laughing, you're about to tell Caroline where she and her mother can find the food when you spot Bonnie and your brother coming up behind them. "Uh, Dwayne will show you," you tell her. "He's gotta check on his brothers anyway and make sure Klaus isn't getting them in trouble."

And without missing a beat, Dwayne detaches himself from you and offers his arm to Liz as he dips his head in politeness. "Ladies, if you'll follow me."

Dwayne ends up with a Forbes woman on each arm and you smile as he leads them towards the food. Then turning back towards the door, your smile widens as you accept a hug from Bonnie. "Hey! Long time no see." Bonnie is stunning in her own black and silver dress, and Jeremy surprisingly fills out his suit. Then again, he's been rather buff ever since he became a hunter. "Jer, you're looking muscular. Kill anything lately?"

"Ha. Ha," he deadpans while hugging you. "And you look good as well. I didn't expect…"

"Yeah, yeah. You didn't expect me to be alive and thriving just because of the Mikaelson's and blah, blah, blah." Both Bonnie and Jeremy chuckle, and you nudge them towards the party.

More people show up- Tyler, Elena, Damon, Enzo, Alaric plus his date, and several other locals that you hadn't seen for a while. You greet each and every one, thanking them for showing up and wishing them a good time.

Rebekah pulls you away from the door when it seems like no one else is showing up, leading you towards the bottom of the staircase where her brothers are waiting. Both Mikaelson men smile as you approach, but Rebekah leads you a few steps further up the staircase before telling you to stay put before joining her brothers.

You're confused, but no one says anything. Dwayne and his brothers are lined up just across from the Mikaelson's, each of them holding a champagne flute. Elijah, being the more diplomatic Mikaelson, calls for everyone's attention. And as a crowd gathers, you're not very surprised when the hired help walks around with platters full of champagne flutes to pass out to everyone.

"Thank you, everyone, for attending on such short notice," Elijah says as the gathered guests fall quiet. "Miss Gilbert has been off traveling the world and seeing everything this life has to offer, so we weren't sure she would be back in time for her birthday. Luckily for us, she decided to visit with some new friends of hers."

Paul whoops and you shake your head at him, grinning.

"So let us raise our glasses," everyone follows Elijah's lead as he raises his glass in a toast, "and wish Miss Gilbert a very happy birthday and safe travels when she no doubt leaves us all behind again." Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah turn, grinning. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"Happy birthday!" The crowd then cheers.

You smile bashfully, nodding your thanks to those whose gazes you catch before walking down the stairs. Rebekah hugs you whereas her brothers kiss each of your cheeks, and then Dwayne takes hold of your arm while leading you to the main room.

Immediately, the humming and clapping of Hozier's Work Song fills the air, and Dwayne leads you to the center of the room before turning to face you. As he takes a step back and then bows at the waist, your eyes light up. "You dance?"

"Obviously. Don't you?" As you grab the skirt of your dress and curtsey, you can't help but laugh. "And besides, the birthday girl has to open her own party with the first dance."

"I'm pretty sure that's not a thing, but I'll take it." You and Dwayne step forward and then back, close to touching but not. He raises his hands, palms out, and you laugh some more as you hold your own palms just an inch from his as you walk in a circle. "Who told you about this dance?"

"Rebekah might have mentioned something about a pageant this little town holds and the dances forced upon you."

Dwayne then takes you in his arms and the two of you sway back and forth before he's gently pushing you out and then bringing you in on a twirl. The smile never leaves your face, not even when you can hear his brothers ribbing him.

Halfway through the dance, others join you. Dwayne's dancing skills make him that much more attractive to you and you let him know when you can't keep your lips to yourself.

The party goes on and you make your rounds while on Dwayne's arm. You introduce him to everyone you know, talk about the places you've been with some curious individuals, but refrain from mentioning where you met Dwayne in case others were listening in.

You eat and drink and dance some more, and all in all it's a good time.

Until it isn't.

Elena hadn't said much to you other than wish you a happy birthday, so you're resigned to hearing her out when she asks for a moment of your time when the party starts winding down.

She leads you to an empty room just down the hall and turns to face you with a frown. "So, you're leaving again?"

"What?"

"Elijah's speech. He said you were going to travel again."

"Oh. Maybe." You shrug. "I still need to find a house and set down roots before I start taking trips again."

"Your house is here!" She says, hurt lacing her tone. "Why are you so dead set on getting away from me?"

"Elena," you say softly. "I love you. I do! But I can't be here anymore. I'm so over the drama where you somehow manage to be ground zero for it all. I'm tired of being hounded by Damon for not jumping when he says jump and I'm just- I'm over it. You have your life and I have mine. You don't have to like it, but you will accept it."

Done with the conversation, you turn to rejoin the party, only for your sister's words to make you freeze. "Jenna would be so upset to see you so chummy with her murderer."

There's a gasp from the door and you realize the others have followed. Bonnie, Caroline, Damon, Stefan, Alaric, Dwayne, David, Paul, Marko, Rebekah, Klaus, and Elijah have all entered the room and you have no idea how you and Elena didn't sense the big group sooner.

The group from Mystic Falls knew how close you were to Jenna and how hurt you were over Klaus killing her, but they didn't know about Klaus' apology months later when you started having dinners with Elijah. It wasn't an easy apology to accept, but he promised to make it up to you for as long as you lived.

But not wanting to get into all that, you look at your sister and swing even lower than her. "Yeah? Well mom and dad would be even more upset to see you fucking your best friend's rapist." Elena gapes and her eyes fill with tears, and you roll your eyes. "Come now, Elena. Don't start the waterworks now. You wanna be Katherine 2.0, then be Katherine 2.0. If you're gonna be a bitch, then own it."

Your back suddenly hits the wall and you have a face full of an enraged vampire. "All right. That's enough."

"Damon!" Bonnie yells.

"What the fuck was that?" You hear Marko murmur, biting back a smirk at the fact that they're still playing human.

"That was a low blow, YN," Damon says, tightening his grip around your throat.

"Careful, Damon, your lap dog is showing," you muse. "This is between me and my sister."

"Yeah? Well, it becomes my business when you make her cry."

"Oh, how noble." You huff. "Now kindly take your hand off of me and leave. You're no longer welcomed here."

You hear a bit of a scuffle and look over Damon's shoulder to see David holding Dwayne back by the arm. You can see the rage in his eyes even as he attempts to keep his cool, and subtly shake your head.

Damon glances over his shoulder as well to see who you're looking at and turns back to face you with a smirk. "You're so quick to drop everyone in Mystic Falls, let's see if your newfound family will stick around after they find out that you're a monster."

Your expression hardens. "Damon, do-"

CRACK!

Damon has all of half a second of smug satisfaction as he watches your body collapse lifelessly to the floor before a heart stopping roar practically shakes the walls of the room. He whirls around, eyes wide, and braces himself for the truly monstrous individual advancing on him.

Dwayne's features have shifted, his features more sharpened and defined. His eyes are now yellow and red, and his fangs and claws have elongated in his rage. He grabs a stunned Damon by the shoulders before savagely sinking his fangs into Damon's neck and pulling free a chunk of flesh.

As Damon gurgles on his blood and Elena shrieks in horror, Stefan speeds at Dwayne to pull him off. Only then do David, Paul, and Marko fly at him and throw him across the room before making a wall in front of YN's body. Dwayne continues to attack Damon, snapping each and every bone in his body that he can to prevent the raven-haired vampire from fighting back.

Elena tries to intervene when it appears Damon can't defend himself, but Rebekah catches her by the arm. "Stay out of it. Damon made his bed, now it's time for him to lie in it."

Alaric pulls free a wooden stake to help his friend, but all it takes is Klaus tutting in his direction to give the history teacher pause.

Then having heard enough snarling and snapping bones, Elijah approaches Dwayne cautiously. "That's enough, Dwayne. I believe Mr. Salvatore has learned his lesson." Panting and heaving, Dwayne snarls one last time before kicking Damon so hard in the ribs that he sends him sliding across the floor towards his panicked brother. Dwayne then turns and his brothers part so he can make a beeline to YN's body. As he does, he sits on the floor to cradle her lifeless body in his arms. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should never touch a vampire's mate," Elijah says.

Everyone seems surprised, but it's Caroline who steps forward with a frown. "Mate? And vampire?" She asks incredulously. "What is going on, Elijah?"

"Dwayne, David, Marko, and Paul are vampires," he tells the room, ignoring Elena's whimpers as she tries to offer aid to Damon. "A different species, obviously, but vampires nonetheless. When Niklaus and I noticed some differences, I decided to do a little research after learning of how quickly Dwayne and YN became attached."

"And your research proved that our kind has mates?" Paul wonders. At Elijah's nod, he beams. "Fuck yeah! We totally called it after YN got bit by that werewolf."

"What werewolf?" Caroline's eyes widen in alarm.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. It's all been taken care of," Klaus assures her. Caroline huffs at him, but all it does is make him smirk.

"That's nice and all, but can I have a little help?" Elena grouses. "Damon's really hurt."

"Oh boo hoo," Rebekah deadpans. No one makes a move to help Elena except for Stefan and Alaric.

The three of them are doing their best to tend to Damon when Enzo enters the room. He takes a look at the Lost Boys before taking a look at his injured friend and then glances at the Mikaelson's. When his gaze finally lands on Caroline, he sighs. "I always miss the fun. What happened this time?"

"Damon's a bloody idiot, is what this is," Rebekah says instead. "He snapped a vampire mate's neck and said vampire didn't take too kindly to that."

Enzo shrugs. "Fair enough. Now if you're all done in here, some of the humans heard the ruckus. Jeremy and I have been doing damage control, but some of these locals are too nosy for their own good."

"Thank you, Mr. St. John. My sister and I will take it from here." Elijah beckons Rebekah to join him and she grumbles about missing all the fun.

Enzo, now too invested to see any more drama go down, walks over to stand next to Caroline and Bonnie.

"So, you four are vampires?" Bonnie wonders when no one says anything. "How come we didn't know?"

"Because YN wanted it that way," David says.

"And you just do what she says? How long have you even known her?"

"Long enough," you grumble. Immediately you feel yourself being squeezed and you groan as your eyes flutter open. You're staring up at the ceiling and you realize you're on the floor. "Dwayne?" The head tucked into the side of your aching neck lifts, and you smile at the vampiric face of your boyfriend. Reaching up, you tap on the tip of one of his fangs. "You can put these away now. I'm fine."

"He snapped your neck," he grumbles.

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"Pity."

"YN!"

"What?" You whine. You attempt to sit up, letting Dwayne help you. Then glancing over at your sister, you have no fucks left to give her. "He snapped my neck. The way I see it, if he's still breathing, he got off easy."

"You could have told us your friends were different vampires."

"But then Damon wouldn't have gotten his ass kicked." Then glancing at those standing, you ask, "Did anyone record it?" Everyone with the exception of Stefan, Elena, Damon, and Alaric find your question funny. Dwayne stands and helps you to your feet, and you stretch a little with a groan. "But now you all see why I left, right? I refuse to live a life that Damon wants to control."

"But you'll live a life that the Mikaelson's control?" Elena huffs.

You stare at her, shaking your head. "When are you going to get over your hate for them? You all refuse to forgive the Mikaelson's, yet Damon somehow gets a free pass?" You ask.

"Damon didn't kill Jenna!"

"No, but he did kill the love of Enzo's life and then left Enzo to burn alive," you say. Then looking at Stefan, you say, "He killed Lexi. He's killed Ric, Jeremy, and even me a few times." Looking at Bonnie, you add, "He threatened Grams into using too much magic that led to her death and let's not forget everything he put Caroline through. So why the hell is Damon forgiven for all of that, but yet you're so appalled when I associate with Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah?"

No one has anything to say, and Elena can't even look at you. She's too busy making sure Damon is healing properly.

"She has a point," Enzo says, breaking the silence.

Glancing at him, you offer him a smile before looking at each of your friends. "I'm tired, hungry, and pissed off now, so the party's officially over. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

As you walk off, Dwayne takes hold of your hand. "Go up to the room. I'll grab some blood bags and liquor from the kitchen."

"Thank you." You squeeze his hand before letting go, grabbing the skirt of your dress and lifting it just a little so you can walk up the stairs without tripping.

. .

In the comfort and safety of your room, you strip out of your dress and run yourself a hot shower. The first thing you do is wash all the hair products out of your hair before scrubbing your face free of makeup, and then wash your body before standing under the rainfall of water. You sigh, reaching a hand up to rub at your sore neck.

The sound of the shower drowns out the outside noise, so you startle a little when you feel a hand land on your shoulder. Uncaring of your nudity, you turn around and are met with an equally nude Dwayne. He hands you a blood bag that's a little warm to the touch and you don't waste a moment. You grab the bag and immediately bring it up to your mouth, letting your fangs pierce the bag.

As you suck down your meal, you let Dwayne lead you a few steps back so he's standing under the rainfall of water as well. His hands gently cup your face, thumbs brushing the veins beneath your eyes that have slithered to the surface. Your eyes flutter open and you drop the bag when you're done with it.

Dwayne then leans down so his forehead is resting against yours, and his hands move down so his fingers gently probe around your neck. "I wanted to kill him," he quietly admits. "It took all my self-control to not rip his head from his body."

You huff a laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist. "As much as I wish you would have, it's best that you didn't. If anything happened to poor Damon, Elena and Stefan probably would have hounded us until the end of times."

"Then they would have met the same fate. You were dead at the time, but apparently we're mates and our instincts to protect each other are insane."

"Excuse me?" You pull back a bit, staring at Dwayne in disbelief. "Mates actually exist?"

"For my kind, yes. It's why I knew something was off that first day we were here and Damon had you pinned to the wall. It's also why I flew into a rage when he snapped your neck."

Mouth agape, you shut it with an audible click. A moment later, you shrug. "Well, that explains the rage I felt when Damon threatened your life. Normally I'd have laughed a threat like that off, but I got severely pissed off."

Dwayne chuckles. "This is going to be fun."

"For you, maybe. Protective instincts aren't the only instincts that rears its ugly head thanks to our apparent bond."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm possessive, dear mate." You smile up at him. "I noticed it the last time that one female tried gaining your attention, but it wasn't too bad of an urge to rip her head off. If she had touched you, however, I'm pretty sure it would have been game over for her." Dwayne slowly smirks and you slowly raise your arms so they're wrapped around his neck, and you hop up as you wrap your legs around his waist. "Now are you going to fuck your mate or just stand here under the water?"

"I wasn't sure you were up for anything after having your neck snapped," he says while reaching below you and grabbing hard length to notch at your entrance.

"For you? I'm always up for something." You slowly lower yourself on Dwayne's cock, head tilting back as your mouth opens in a silent moan. He grunts when you're fully seated and when you meet his smoldering gaze, you clench around him and cause him to grunt. "Now come on. Make me scream and embarrass my sister who is no doubt still trying to play victim downstairs."

Smirking, Dwayne places one hand on your ass as he walks over to the wall and then places his other hand on the wall for a bit of balance. "Hang on…"

Dwayne pulls out nearly all the way, and then a moment later he thrust back in. Hard. You moan, fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, and then beam brightly at him. "Again."

The following morning, you have absolutely no shame when you and Dwayne enter the kitchen together. Everyone, with the exception of Elijah and Klaus, are all smirking at you.

"Well, well," Rebekah muses. "Look at you. I'm surprised you're not walking funny."

Paul and Marko immediately laugh, and Klaus looks quite appalled.

"Rebekah, please, can you not?" Elijah asks, already exasperated with where the morning conversation is clearly headed.

"Oh hush. We're all adults here."

You chuckle as you head towards the refrigerator, pulling out a pitcher of orange juice to pour yourself a glass. "Who all got an earful besides those in this room?"

"Well Damon thinks you were faking it."

"Of course." Your eyes roll.

"Stefan looked like he had sucked on a sour lemon, Elena turned beet red as if she was some prude, and Caroline and Enzo couldn't help but be impressed."

You chuckle some more as you sip your juice and then make your way to the table where Dwayne is already seated. You help yourself to a few slices of bacon and pay no mind to Dwayne's brothers who are patiently waiting to tease you. Unfortunately for them, you're not bothered by it at all.

"So will you be leaving this afternoon?" Klaus asks in order to break the silence.

"Yes." When you glance at Rebekah, you smile at her pout. "But you guys will always be welcomed in Santa Carla and I'll do my best to visit every other month."

"You better."

"What about these bracelets?" Marko asks. "Are we supposed to give them back once we're back in Santa Carla or…?"

"The bracelets are a gift," Elijah says smoothly. "And as a token of our appreciation for being on your best behavior and abiding by the rules we set out, we will pay for a trip for all of you to wherever you want."

"We appreciate that," David says, "but we need to settle our claim on Santa Carla before we can take off again. And speaking of Santa Carla, how is our home?" He then asks Klaus.

Klaus shrugs. "My hybrids have dispatched a werewolf pack looking to make camp in your woods. Your territory is as you left it- dirty and nearly uninhabitable."

"Klaus." You shake your head in amusement at him. "I've made my decision."

"I'm well aware."

"Then don't be a dick."

"I said nearly." You chuckle as he smirks. "Now let us have a nice breakfast before you and your friends start to pack. The jet is being fueled as we speak."

. .

After a very talkative breakfast and barely half an hour of packing, you and the boys are on a private jet back to Santa Carla. You had immediately made a beeline for the singular bedroom at the back of the jet to go back to sleep, and Dwayne joined you for about an hour before rejoining his brothers.

You join them sometime later, taking the time to sip a drink as you listen to the boys brainstorm the perfect location for the trip you're all going to take once David's confident enough with his grasp on Santa Carla.

And it's only once you've stepped foot back in Santa Carla does your phone ping with a text message from Klaus. It's directions to a location and instructions to call him when you get there.

"What do you think it is?" Dwayne asks as he reads the message himself.

"I have no idea, but it's Klaus, so anything is possible."

You can see Paul and Marko are anxious to get back to their cave, but David wants everyone to stick together. So, after procuring- er, compelling- a car, you drive to the location Klaus had sent you.

Pulling up to the location that's still in Santa Carla, you're not surprised at its remote location, but you are surprised with the steel gate blocking a driveway and the steel fence that wraps all around the property. Off in the distance, up on a hill, there's quite the house sitting there.

"What the hell is this?" Paul asks, leaning forward between the seats.

"I have no idea." You pull out your phone and dial Klaus' number, still staring at the house in awe while holding the phone to your ear. When the line clicks over, you immediately ask, "What did you do?"

"Welcome home, love. The code to the gate is your birthday." You glance at the small box just outside the driver's side window and punch in the code. When the little red light turns green, the gates start to open. "Since there was no way you were going to leave Santa Carla, I figured that you could at least live in a proper home rather than that dark, dank cave your boys are apparently so fond of. Honestly, they needed to get out of there as well."

"Klaus… this is a lot," you utter in awe. You drive all the way up to the front steps and everyone hurriedly vacates the car to take a look around. "I can never repay something like this."

"Family doesn't repay family back. At least not ours."

"Klaus."

"I'm serious. It's done. Now since you're all vampires, I had a witch spell the house for you."

"How so?"

"No guest, whether they're supernatural or not, can enter your home without your permission. There was a little blood magic involved, so you'll have to invite your mate and friends in."

You walk up to the front door and enter the house with ease, smirking at Marko when he tries to enter behind you but can't. You quickly invite all four boys in and then turn to stare at the lavish home. "Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, truly… thank you."

"Think nothing of it. But if you truly want to repay me back, you can take Rebekah on your next trip. She truly is aggravating."

You laugh and nod before saying, "Yes. Of course. Anything."

"Mhm. Well, I'll let you and the boys get acquainted with your new home. Have fun. Don't murder too many people."

"We'll try." You end the call with Klaus and only then does the sound of Paul and Marko's excitement reach your ears. You feel pressure at your elbow and find Dwayne standing there, looking down on you. "It's ours."

"What?"

"It's ours. Klaus obviously didn't like the living conditions of the cave, so he bought us a house."

"Well… shit." You snort at his utterance. "It's been a long time since any of us have lived in a proper home."

"Hey! If this is our house, do we get to call dibs on a room?" You hear Paul shout from somewhere deep in the house.

"Dwayne and I get the master!" You shout back. "It's a free for all for the rest of you."

All of a sudden you hear footsteps pounding on the hardwood floor, followed by grunting and whining, and protests of David being unfair.

Smiling, you turn back towards Dwayne and grin. "So, I guess this is home?"

"Do you want it to be?"

You shrug. "Home is wherever you are. If you want to go back to the cave, then let's go back. But if you want to stay here, then we'll stay here."

Dwayne flashes you one of his rare smiles as he reaches for you, and tugs you close. "Well, I wouldn't want to piss off the big bad hybrid by taking his precious baby sister back to the dark, dank cave."

You laugh and quickly lean up on the tips of your toes, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. "Then we'll stay." You kiss him again. "Now come on. Let's go break in our new bed."

554 notes · View notes

astrophileous · 7 months

Text

Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing--there's a lot of it--like a lot, psychopathic behaviors, being held captive, verbal and physical violence, degrading nicknames, talks of death and unaliving someone, strangulation, PLS READ WITH CAUTION BECAUSE THIS PART IS REALLY GRIM I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

Word Count: 4200-ish

Tag(s): I'm tagging everyone who requested to be tagged prior to the long hiatus, pls tell me if you'd like to NOT be included in the tag list for future updates, thanks! @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI EVERYONE HOW ARE YOU?? I know this is long overdue, but pls enjoy the new part of love bugs! I'm so happy to be posting again and I hope you like what I've got in plans for this series. I think we only have one or maybe two chapters left for this story (depending whether I want to write an epilogue or not lol) but in the meantime, pls enjoy this part and don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT !!! thank you 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The bullpen of FBI headquarters was still reeling in the aftermath of a Derek-Morgan-shaped hurricane.

Emily was just about to enter the vicinity again when she heard the tail end of Derek's furious words, right before Hotch had ordered him to retreat.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as she approached Rossi's side, eyes never straying from the two men who soon disappeared into Hotch's office.

Rossi never addressed Emily's question. Instead, he gestured for her--and everybody else in the room--to be quiet with a finger on his lips, before he pressed the unmute button on the telephone.

"Hello?"

The UnSub's head jerked at Rossi's unfamiliar voice. You were barely successful in getting him to calm down following Derek's unexpected outburst, but the sound of Rossi's voice was threatening to throw all of those poor attempts straight out of the window.

"Who is that?" he demanded warily. "Where's Agent Hotchner?"

"He had to step away for a second," Rossi notified. "I'm SSA David Rossi. I also work with Agent Hotchner and Agent (Y/L/N)."

"I know who you are."

"Yeah? I still don't know who you are, though."

A responding groan vibrated from the other line. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"*

"No one thinks anything here, pal. Just wanted to know who I was speaking to, that's all." At the UnSub's clear signs of agitation, Rossi quickly added, "It'd be nice to know the person who clearly means a lot to (Y/N)."

Rossi's reassurance obviously managed to trigger the intended effect it had sought. Everyone could see how the UnSub physically deflated at Rossi's words, meaning that hopefully he was soon going to let his guard down.

"I can't tell you who I am," your assailant said, still adamant, although his resolve was wearing thin with each word he had stated. "You're just gonna use it to track me down and keep us apart."

The last syllable of his sentence was emphasized by the weight of his dagger on the side of your neck. You instinctively winced at the unwelcomed touch of the blade before schooling your expression once more so your captor wouldn't notice.

"I promise you, no one is going to do that," Rossi said.

"He's telling the truth," you decided to chime in, surprising everyone including the UnSub whose grip of the dagger had teetered dangerously closer to your pulse point at the sudden proclamation. "They are good people. They don't break promises or tell lies. I promise you, nothing will come between us."

The silence that fell next was heavy with the UnSub's hesitation. Bracing yourself, you forced your head to tilt back, locking eyes with him who was still standing like a guard dog right behind you.

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

The lull in your voice--or perhaps the fact that you had called him darling in front of your team, which he could arguably take as a display of affection--must have stirred up something in his twisted mind. He actually preened at you before his eyes went right back towards the direction of the camera on the wall.

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

A particular thread of memory in your brain immediately lit up.

Back in the bullpen, JJ and Spencer were finally returning with documents containing your phone records that they had promptly asked Kevin to gather. Spencer didn't waste any time before perching himself on his desk to start rummaging through the thick pile of files.

"Arthur?" Rossi repeated the name, eyes flicking over to Garcia with a silent request to start cross-referencing the name with the other names they had acquired so far in the investigation.

The tech analyst didn't need to be told twice. She began typing furiously on her laptop as Rossi's attention was drawn back towards the projector.

The UnSub hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still just as sturdy on your shoulder. The blade was also still just as cold as it pressed onto your skin.

One wrong move, and you would end up no better than a slaughter animal on the cold hard ground.

"Do you have a last name, Arthur?" Rossi asked.

The entire bullpen held their breath in anticipation. Rossi had planted the bait as strategically as he could. It was up to the UnSub to take it and slip up the one information that would give them a major lead to end this case once and for all.

But before the UnSub could respond, a muffled beeping resonated in the air, through the telephone line, and finally into the bullpen. The sound was enough to make your assailant faltered.

"I have to go."

It was the last thing he uttered before the line, along with the livestream, went completely dead.

The atmosphere was laden with restlessness as everyone tried to make peace with the fact that they had just lost the only mean of communication they had with you. Without the feed from the livestream, no one could possibly know what was going on. The team would have no idea if something were to happen to you.

They would have no idea how to determine whether you were alive or dead.

"Did you find anything yet, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, although in all honestly, it sounded more like a desperate plea.

The thick regret behind Garcia's eyes gave Rossi the answer he needed to know.

"I can't find any Arthur in our files, sir," Garcia informed.

"Anything from her phone records? What about the hospital?" Rossi tried again.

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

"Nothing yet," Spencer spoke up from his place on the desk. "Not a single thing stands out from her records."

"What now?" JJ sighed, exhaustion and worry beginning to decorate the lines on her face.

The whole bullpen stood still, as if everyone was waiting for a slice of miracle to descend into the room, holding a map that would eventually lead the team to where you were still being held captive. But such a map didn't exist in this piece of reality, and the BAU knew that they were running out of time.

"Garcia, did you record the livestream by any chance?" Spencer asked at last.

"Yeah, of course I did."

Penelope punched a few keys on her keyboard before the projector once again came alive with the footage from the livestream.

"Can you fast forward to the very end?" Spencer requested. "And then play it again backwards to the beginning."

"What are you thinking, Spence?" JJ wondered.

"I don't know. I just... maybe there's a detail we missed. At this point, even the smallest piece of clue is worth pursuing."

Several pair of eyes glued themselves on the screen as the livestream footage ran backward at a faster speed. Bated breaths waited in tension for just the tiniest hint that the team could scour to determine your location.

"Wait. What was that?" Spencer interjected. "Garcia, play that again."

"What? What is it?" Emily spoke up.

"Look at her hand." Spencer stood up from the desk, approaching the screen to get a better look. "She's knocking against the chair. Garcia, zoom in on her hand. The left one."

Penelope did as she was asked. "Is that--"

"It's morse code," Rossi muttered, realization overtaking his countenance.

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

"A-U--" Spencer began spelling out loud, "--T... Auto. She's spelling auto."

"Auto?" JJ's forehead creased. "As in... auto shop?"

"Her records said she went to a mechanic a week ago," Spencer recalled. JJ immediately rummaged through the papers on Spencer's desk, but the pages flipping inside of Spencer's mind moved at a thousand times more speed than any normal pair of eyes ever could. "Dinozzo's Auto Service, 894 Southwell Street."

"Got it," Penelope chimed in from her place in front of the laptop. "Dinozzo's Auto Shop. Originally owned by Carlo Dinozzo before it was passed down to his two sons after his death a year ago."

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

"No. I'm not seeing any Arthur anywhere near that place."

"We profiled that the UnSub could be holding down a steady job in his everyday life," JJ said. "He might not even be related to that place. Maybe (Y/N) encountered him there by chance?"

"Nah, I doubt it." Rossi shook his head. "The bastard's too sophisticated to leave anything up to chance like that. He must have found a way to orchestrate it one way or another."

"There must be a connection somewhere, then. No way he just chose a random place off the map," Emily muttered. "We should cross-reference the name to anyone associated with the Dinozzos."

Penelope began to frantically type something into her laptop. "We've still got three names here. Oh, never mind. Two names, 'cause one of them is dead."

"What do we have on them?" Spencer asked.

"First is Arthur Doyle. He went to high school with Luca and Piero Dinozzo, works in a local company, and looks like he travels a lot for his job," Penelope explained. "There's also an Arthur Harrison, works as an accountant in the heart of Arlington. His dad and Carlo Dinozzo were long-time pals. Apparently, his dad was an accountant too and used to handle the shop's finances before Arthur inherited the office. Oh."

"What? What'd you find?"

"Arthur was engaged," Penelope murmured, "to a Claire Dumont. They were gonna get married last year but the wedding was called off just one month before the D-day."

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

"She moved to Ohio shortly after the breakup, and... oh my God. Guess what?" Penelope looked up, her eyes widening almost comically. "She just announced her engagement three months ago."

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

An image of a woman suddenly appeared on screen, right above the paused footage of your hand. Everyone stared at the picture in shock.

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

JJ held her breath. "She and (Y/N) could be sisters."

"We've found our guy," Rossi declared. "Garcia, pull up every known address associated with this man. And hurry, we don't have much time."

"I have three properties so far connected to Arthur Harrison. Sending the addresses to all of your phones."

As JJ, Spencer, and Rossi rushed to exit the bullpen, Emily turned around and called out to the others, "I'm grabbing Morgan and Hotch!"

Without stopping to knock, Emily pushed open the door to Hotch's office, ignoring the slivers of tension dancing around in the air.

"We may have something," Emily announced to the room. "We think we know where (Y/N) is."

Your assailant--Arthur, as it turned out--pulled his phone out and pressed a few buttons in, silencing the beeping. Once the noise was gone, the room was quiet again.

He looked at you, then. Piercingly. You squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Wait here," he eventually said. "I'll be back."

Without taking a second to breathe, Arthur flew past you and towards the direction he had appeared from earlier.

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

The sound of steps ceased on top of concrete. You waited with bated breath for his response. But the only sound ever came was that of the metal door, and as quickly as you could count to three, he was gone.

At last, you were alone once more.

The traces of adrenaline had begun to dissipate out of your system, leaving you in a shivering mess inside that damp concrete room. Once again, you attempted with all of your might to free yourself from the state of confinement you were in. But the metal cuffs binding you to the chair only dug further into your skin the more you tried to escape, while the chair itself stayed nailed in place no matter how hard you tried to rock it.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, you were forced to face the reality of your situation.

You were never going to get yourself out of that dingy place alone.

Huffing a breath, you knew that there was nothing more you could do except to hope that your team found the hidden message you had left for them to solve.

And with that last thought conquering every room your head, you let yourself succumb to the impending darkness.

You woke up gasping for air.

It took you a few seconds to remember where you were, to remember that you weren't back in the comfort of your apartment and instead, you were still holed up in the darkened cold room where your abductor had been keeping you captive.

It took a few seconds more to realize that the drowning dream you just had might have been a tad bit more real than you initially thought.

Still reeling in shock, you peered up and locked eyes with your abductor, eyes barely registering the empty bucket he was holding in one of his hands. It didn't take a genius to conclude that he was the one responsible for your drenched state.

"W-what?" you stuttered meekly. "What's going on?"

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

You shrieked loudly when Arthur threw the empty bucket against the wall, sending a resounding "bang" throughout the whole room and breaking the plastic object into two misshaped pieces.

"Arthur--" you gasped, searching for your voice that seemed to have disappeared beneath the layers of brewing fear, "--w-what... what are you... what's going on? Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch."

The beating inside your chest fastened. Before you could ask yet another question, Arthur had lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so you could stare directly into his eyes.

"You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "You lied to me. Everything you said was a lie, wasn't it?!"

"I don't--" you hissed, trying to ignore the biting pain in your scalp, "--I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

It was only when the ringing in your ear grew louder did you realize that Arthur had slapped your cheek.

Hard.

Ignoring the tingling on the side of your face, you lifted your head once more. The room was spinning, tilting your balance left and right, but you held your ground through it all.

"What did I lie to you about, Arthur?" you asked carefully.

He threw something at your feet. It clanged against the hard ground below before landing face up near your toes.

It was your phone.

But the fact that Arthur somehow had your phone in his possession wasn't what caused the sick feeling to stir northward in your belly.

It was what you were seeing on the now cracked screen of your phone: a picture of you and Derek. A selfie that you had impulsively taken of the two of you in bed after one of your nighttime escapades.

For awhile there, you had briefly forgotten about that photo. It was another lost memory in the ocean of rubble left behind in the wake of your fallout with Derek. Seeing that photo again after such a long time triggered waves of emotions that you had been desperately burying for the past few weeks.

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

The regret of ending your little arrangement so abruptly in such a hostile manner. The regret of not telling Derek sooner about the baby. The regret of maybe never being able to see Derek for one last time.

But most importantly, it was the regret over not revealing the truth of what your heart felt for him that was eating you alive.

"You're fucking him," Arthur fumed, eyes blazing with an indescribable fury that made your entire body shudder.

"Arthur, please... I can explain--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He stepped forward once more, crowding your personal place and rendering you helpless underneath his psychopathic gaze.

"Tell me the truth, and if you dare lie--" Arthur paused, his hand disappearing behind his back before it appeared again with a dagger that he promptly pressed against your abdomen, "--don't ever dream of meeting your child."

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you the truth."

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

The bile in your throat had tripled in size. Swallowing it down, you tried to even your voice out as you answered, "I was."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I knew it. You fucking whore. You're no better than any of them."

To your relief, he eventually chose to retract the dagger and stepped away from you, opting to circle the room like a distressed lion in a cage. But even with the blade no longer touching your skin, you knew very well that the danger wasn't over yet and that things could escalate even further in a matter of seconds if you weren't careful.

"Arthur," you called out to him softly, slowly, as to not startle him and risk doing something that would trigger a psychotic break. "Arthur, please. You have to listen to me. That arrangement ended long ago. It meant nothing to me. It happened long before I met you."

Arthur's voice echoed coldly as he replied, "I don't believe you."

"Please, Arthur--"

"That's his child, isn't it?" he cut you off, pointing the tip of the dagger at your belly. "What he said on the phone. He said my child. That's because it's his. You're having Derek Morgan's child."

"No--"

"I thought you were different. I thought you were the one." The dagger in his hand shook with venom. "But you're just the same as the rest of them."

"I'm not. Please, I'm not--"

"I have to start searching again. For the one. You're not her, which means she's still out there."

"Arthur--"

"I'll have to get rid of you."

"Arthur, please!" Your voice cracked, leaking of terror and desperation larger than anything you had ever known. When something wet touched the side of your nose, you realized then that you had started to cry. "Arthur, you have to believe me. I've ended everything with him. There's nothing between us anymore."

The words you uttered kept lingering in the air in a bubble made out of despair. But as if every single one of them had fallen on deaf ears, your captor paid no attention to them. Not even a single acknowledgment to your pleas.

Instead, he had begun taking careful steps forward. Silent and deadly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

For a moment, you could taste relief on the tip of your tongue before it was washed away by the knowledge that you were not entirely out of the woods yet. But from the corner of your eye, you could see the slight loosening of Arthur's grip around the dagger. It filled you with enough hope to push forward.

"I'm choosing you, Arthur," you stated confidently, trying to convince him of your sincerity. "I don't care about Derek. I'm done with him. I'm done with my old life and everyone in it. I'm ready to leave everything behind to be with you. I choose you."

"You choose me?"

"Yes. I choose you to take care of me. To take care of this baby. The three of us can be a family. How does that sound?"

Seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes stretched into a long silence. The anticipation threatened to break your chest in half.

When he finally began to move once more, Arthur surprised you. He threw the dragger towards a darkened corner in the room, far away from his reach and, most importantly, far away from the possibility of it harming the growing life inside of you.

When Arthur took off the ski mask he had been wearing since the first time you opened your eyes in that harrowing place, you weren't at all surprised to see the face staring back at you. After all, it was the same face belonging to the man who had stopped his car for you when your own car had mysteriously broken down in the middle of the road just around two weeks prior. The same face who offered a business card of his friend's auto shop where you eventually went to get your vehicle fixed.

In retrospect, you should have been at least a little bit suspicious by the whole ordeal, but was it really your fault for choosing to put your trust in the good of humanity?

You knew there was no point in dwelling over what-ifs anymore. Arthur would've found a way, like any psychopath would, and you would've still ended up being tied up in this dismal room with him.

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

You put on your best fake smile before answering, "Yes."

He grabbed you in his arms in just two long strides.

You wanted to throw up. You hated the feeling of his fingers stroking your back. You wanted to kick him away and get this piece of shit as far away from you and your baby as possible. You wanted to rid yourself of the lingering smell of him that had now undoubtedly transferred into your skin.

And maybe, you would've done all of those things if it was only your life that was on the line.

Unfortunately, fighting back was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. So, you were forced to stay quiet instead, letting your captor whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if it didn't repulse you even being in the same room as him.

You were close to counting towards the 200s in your head when, suddenly, a clanking noise in the distance ripped your attention away.

In a split second, Arthur had peeled his arms from around you and got back on his feet. You knew then that he must have heard it, too.

You watched as he stepped away, dragging a crate from one corner of the room and placing it strategically underneath the only opening on the walls. He got on top of the crate to allow himself to peek outside, but whatever he saw must have startled him greatly. Because the next thing you knew, he had backed away from the wall in the blink of an eye, face crumpling in what could only be described as panic.

"The cops are here," he managed to sputter out.

"What?"

Your heart was hammering inside of its cage. The cops are here. You realized then that the team must have solved the clue you left them. They had solved the case, and they were coming to save you.

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

In a moment of weakness, you had allowed yourself to rejoice in the promise of freedom that you momentarily forgot you actually hadn't possessed it yet. The slip-up was miniscule, but it wasn't fleeting enough to escape the attention of your captor.

"You tricked me!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, carrying rage unlike anything you had ever known. "I trusted you, and you lied to me! Again."

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

Arthur didn't even waste a millisecond before he dove forward. He was a lion, and you were the deer. His sharp teeth were calloused fingers, and they dug into your skin as Arthur tightened his grip around your throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to me."

He repeated those words like a mantra, his voice drowned out by desperate gasps as you tried to scour for what little bit of air you could still revel in. Your feet and arms shook beneath their restrains. Your head pounded from the pressure that had gathered inside your skull.

In that moment, death was imminent.

You could feel it coming. You could feel its claws clutching every single drop of life that was still remaining in your bloodstream. It was a battle between the two, and unfortunately, death was winning.

As the dark spots in your vision spread into a massive blotch, you allowed yourself to say goodbye. To life. To the world. To the memories of your loved ones whose faces you wished you could've memorized one last time.

To Derek, the one who could've been, the one you wished had been.

And to the child in your womb, the one you wished you could've met, the one you wished you could've saved.

When darkness came, you expected it to be cold and unforgiving, but as it turned out, darkness was easy. Simple. It welcomed you into its home with open arms, shielding you from the cruelties of the mundane world.

As it pulled you deeper into its abode, you could faintly hear the sound of your name being called repeatedly. It sounded similar. It sounded like home.

But this was your home now, so without turning back, you allowed darkness to lead you further down the dim path. Away from the pain and the heartbreaks of life. Far from the evil that lurked in the streets behind their well-crafted masks.

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

394 notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 3 months

Note

along w ur plato post uve also mentioned disliking marxist syllabi that make you go chronologically just to understand one author (ie greek philo - hegel - marx)

i was planning to go down this route this yr to combine both my long overdue dive into theory and philosophy, and i actually found this to be less overwhelming than immediately diving into say, continental philosophy or critical theory. i wonder then what other route you'd suggest for philosophy? (since for marxist theory youve pretty much alr answered it in a past ask)

are greek philosophers still "useful" to read for beginners or is it much better off to start with contemporaries? is this a case of "we've actually been doing the math curriculum wrong this entire time" or is it just personal preference. help

depends what you're trying to accomplish, but if someone's in my inbox asking how to get started reading theory or philosophy then i think it's a) unhelpful, and b) needlessly deferent to received ideas of 'canonicity', to perpetuate the notion that there's a single correct order in which to read, and it begins with the same 20 ancient greeks writing about geometrical forms and elemental tetravalence. like, it's worth remembering what's missing from a typical global north university's philosophy syllabus: perhaps most obviously, reams of islamicate scholarship and centuries of dialogue between 'western' and 'eastern' writers often suppressed in favour of a 'dark ages' narrative that just sort of jumps up to the 'renaissance'... and there are so many other, egregious, historically unjustifiable lacunae like this.

it's noble enough to want to know where an idea comes from or what its genealogical lineage is, but to try to discover this by reading through a list drawn up by classicists or philosophy departments is dangerously optimistic about the politicking that shapes and perpetuates such lists. even just reading the works that an author is openly citing or arguing with is lacking: what about, say, hegel, whose idea of freedom and enslavement developed partially in response to reading newspaper coverage of the haitian revolution? he didn't exactly announce that in the text! to read the phenomenology of spirit as merely the next intellectual step after kant is deeply distorted; for that matter, kant's own intellectual influences came not only from a supposed philosophical canon but also from the scientific and anthropological discourses underpinning his biological theory of race and defence of racism.

my issue with the "read chronologically" approach isn't that it's bad to follow a topic over a process of historical change. it's that these received lists of 'canonical' thinkers are artefacts of their own social and historical contexts, and are both produced to certain ideological ends, & then appealed to later in order to enforce and even naturalise those ideologies. if what we want is the context to understand what hegel or marx or adorno were really talking about, we need to engage with the texts as historical documents and with the histories as products of imperfect, biased, and ideologically laden human labour.

i'm not here to tell you not to read whatever you were planning to read. for one thing, sometimes the intellectual influence named in the syllabus is a useful one (there are certain questions about marx and marxian ideas that are easier to understand and answer if you have read at least a little bit of hegel). but, in the context of the overwhelming gatekeeping of knowledge, and the hegemonic use of ideas about canonicity and the 'right' way to read 'classics', if someone asks what they need to do in order to read xyz, i'm pretty much never going to default to "start by reading plato". read things that are interesting to you, however old they are; read about their authors; make liberal use of online resources like the SEP if you need a crash-course on certain concepts or jargon. you certainly don't need to be afraid of reading one text to better understand another. i just don't think you need to be beholden to that mode of reading, either, especially not in a context where the common wisdom on whose work belongs in such a genealogy is predicated on centuries of colonial and imperial scholarship and disseminated by institutions structurally positioned to defend the idea of an enlightened and ennobling western intellectual tradition.

in a certain twisted way, these 'standard' (to whom?) or 'traditional' (since when?) reading lists are often presented as the shortcut to the 'correct' understanding of landmark texts or authors—only, this is a 'shortcut' that considers ideas as disembodied from their real contexts, relating only to one another in an intellectual realm and developing in more or less linear fashion often to some teleological end; and, by dint of the sheer amount of material involved, it's also a 'shortcut' that many people will never actually traverse. i don't have an inherent problem with reading chronologically. i just don't automatically defer to these kinds of syllabi, and i think dethroning them could do us all a lot of good.

#lit and literacy

87 notes · View notes

chaotic-mystery · 6 months

Text

Not A Survivalist Girl

Part 7: Gore Whore

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader (this is before he meets Tess)

Summary: With everything between you and Joel being tame for now, you celebrate Halloween, kinda. Please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface. I wanna be in the next chapter! (this can be read as a stand alone so it's fine if you aren't caught up on previous chapters but I recommend to see the dynamic.)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI. Age gap (alluded but not specific) Cute lil domestic-ish Joel, angst, Joel talks about Sarah just for a moment, descriptions of death (it was a clicker im sorry), swearing, Joel yelling and being cranky, mentions of pills, chef Joel makes his guest appearance, mask kink, daddy kink, bitch all the kinks that go hand in hand with those two sdknldnd, pet names (baby, sweet girl, little girl, daddy, Joel refers to himself as daddy, sir) unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, breath play, that rough nasty sex, manhandling, creampie. I think that's it but lmk if I forgot anything!

|| word count: 5.6K || I don't do tags anymore so follow my notif blog @chaoticnotifs to be a good baby and never miss anything from me again. ||

Authors Note: Happy (early) Halloween, sluts! This is a way long overdue chapter and I'm sorry it's taken a million years to get to you. I just want to get this out of the way now and then we can get to the story... Gianna and I have both mutually decided we can't keep up with the story and write together with our schedules, it's not fair to you. Moving forward it'll just be me writing the story and I hope everyone understands. It won't be the last time you see us collab together, I promise! 💗 Also- Thank you to the Horny Bitch House for helping me with bits and pieces of this, I love you all 💗

The window ledges filled with orange and yellow leaves as the end of October was coming full steam, the warm days turning colder as each day passed.

You and Joel were on the best terms the two of you had been on yet. He grew more patience with you and you learned not to piss him off so much for shits and giggles.

It was mutual.

“You awake, sweet girl?” Joel murmurs against your cheek as he peels back the covers. You try to bury your head in the pillows as much as you can to hide from him, hoping he’ll give you five more minutes to sleep since you two were up late last night carving out pumpkins that you insisted on doing.

“Naah, come on baby we gotta get goin’. Need to look for supplies before it starts to get too cold to go out all the time.” His hands wrap around your warm torso and wiggle you around, biting at your ear gently.

Joel had been up for hours like typical old men do and he knew you hated being woken up but he had a point. Your medicine supplies were getting low with how many times you’d stabbed your hand with your knife trying to learn how to use it better but that was neither here nor there.

“Can I just get five more minutes, pleeease?” You whine and try to yank your pink blanket over you that was tucked by your side but Joel already sees your idea and snatches the blanket from your hands before you even get the chance to unfold it. He chuckles and stands up adjusting his jeans, sniffling obnoxiously.

“No can do, doll. Get up, let’s go.” A hard pat to your ass makes you jolt and groan, finally sitting up to look at him.

“Seriously, Joel? We have to go right now?”

He stands between your legs that hang off the side of the bed and you rest your head against his belly, Joel’s hand cupping the side of your face.

“We gotta get movin’ soon, I already let you sleep way later than I was originally going to- you’re welcome by the way. I already packed coffee and snacks because I know your ass would start to bitch and moan about halfway through the trail that you’re hungry.”

Your brows furrow as you look at him, mouth agape in offense.

“Excuse me, just because I admit I bitch and moan doesn’t mean you can say it whenever you feel it’s needed.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you playfully and kisses your forehead before he walks to the open bedroom door.

“Yeah whatever, get dressed. I’m leavin’ in ten minutes with or without ya.”

Joel shuts the white wooden door and you scratch the back of your head before getting up to find an outfit for the day.

Naturally you wanted to wear whatever you thought was cute but Joel having you outside so much was teaching you very quickly that comfort comes before cuteness. No low cut shirts today, a sweater and jeans to make him happy and to keep you warm for once. The sweater had tattered spots and a few holes but not enough to make you cold by any means. It just looked a little grungy and Joel noticed right away.

“Baby, do you have to wear that sweatshirt? It’s got too many holes in it and I don’t wanna hear you tell me you’re cold as soon as we get outside.” His hand meets his hip as he finishes drinking the coffee from his mug.

You look down and think about it for a second, “I mean…I’ve got somethin’ on under it, I think it’ll be fine. I’ll bring my jacket just in case, it’ll be fine.” You reassure him and grab an apple from the almost empty fruit bowl sitting right next to Joel’s arm.

His eyes lock onto every moment you make and you can tell he’s slightly annoyed. As you turn around and grab your pack, you look at the door and ask him, “What's the matter now, Joel?” Your taunting tone makes him scoff a little, he comes up behind you and tucks your jacket into the arm loop of your pack.

“I don’t wanna hear any complaints today, since you’ve got it all figured out, ok?” He spins you around to face him, hands still holding your biceps tightly.

“Promise.” You give him a cheeky grin and kiss his cheek. He sighs deeply at your attempts to be cute and he walks to the front door to open it for you to head outside.

With your knife in your pocket and Joel’s guns tucked in the sides of his packs, you two start to make your way to wherever the hell he wants to go.

Joel never really tells you much about your destinations when you have to go out on supply runs, he just hopes you won’t ask because he knows as soon as he brings up directions, you’ll get lost.

“So did you have fun carvin’ pumpkins last night? I like the face you made on it, it’s cute.” You ask him while you grab onto his ring and pinky finger, closing your hand around them.

“Can’t tell ya the last time I carved a pumpkin. Sarah..she hated the inside of pumpkins- never wanted to touch the guts. So I’d empty it out for her and she’d draw where she wanted me to cut it and by golly she’d make some funky faces for them pumpkins.”

His face wasn’t totally in your eyesight but just by his tone you could hear the smile on his face. You could tell he felt better talking about her, sharing all the memories he had of her.

“Did she have a favorite Halloween movie?” You ask, catching up to him now so you can see his face. The fog from the river was clearing but it was still gloomy and yet Joel seemed to be shining while he gushed about his daughter.

“She loved Hocus Pocus. Insisted on going as the three sisters, one for each year. I couldn’t get her to turn that movie off, hell she’d watch it year round. Begged me to get a black cat so she can have a “Binx” of her own. What she didn’t know was that I planned to get her one for Christmas the year the outbreak happened…but we never reached December.”

His voice cracked and he looked down at his boots kicking up leaves.

“What about you darlin’? Any favorite Halloween movies you had?”

Joel tugs on your sweater sleeve and smiles softly at you while you hesitate to answer.

“Don’t laugh, but I was into the really bloody, turn your stomach in knots kind of horror movies. Saw, Final Destination, Thirteen Ghosts, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Bride of Chucky, shit like that. Scream is also up there, and even though it's super silly, Elvira: Mistress of The Dark was also my favorite.” He could feel your excitement rushing to your fingertips as you started to remember all the silly shit you used to watch.

He stops in his tracks and looks at you with shock written all over his face.

“I find it so hard to believe that Miss Scared of Everything used to watch shit like that. I call bullshit.”

You take two steps forward to him and get close to his face, a smirk written all over your mouth.

“Just admit you didn’t have me all figured out, it’s okay baby I forgive you.” You taunt and barely kiss his lips.

Joel grunts as you pull away too quickly for his liking and before you can protest, you’re wrapped up in his arms and held tightly against his chest. His teeth nibble on your earlobe just enough to make you squeal and try to get free.

“Where you think you’re goin’, baby?”

The way he says it drives you crazy, in the way you could just eat him up here and now. He had that look in his eye, the same one he had that night he took you by the fireplace, it was passion and lust, like he was falling for you all over again.

“If you wanna make it back to the cabin before dark, you better let me go and keep it pushing, sir.”

Sir. It’s one of the many nicknames you have for him that drives the nail in deeper, pushing him to want you more than he did before you got in his face. He likes the fact you don’t back down to him, you match his energy.

Rightfully so.

He stares at you for a little too long before letting you slip from his arms, taking his hand once more to continue walking.

With hours passed you now and your feet starting to ache, you finally end up in a fairly sized town that Joel found a while ago before he met you, hoping whatever he found would still be here.

There wasn’t much left to rummage through, the houses had been picked apart for years now, glass windows broken out and front doors ripped off the hinges like a stampede used for a pathway.

“Just over here in the mall, I hid a bunch of stuff away pretty good, I think at least. C’mon girlie, keep up.” With him in front of you leading you to the entrance, you pull your knife out just in case. Joel lets go of your hand and there’s a small pang to your chest but for your own safety he grabs one of his many guns, cocking it to be ready.

You slip behind the door and hold it open just enough for Joel to squeeze through and your flashlights illuminate what used to be a fun and exciting place. Frozen in time and littered with what it once was, you could almost see how it started out. Benches everywhere, shops with displays still intact and caked with dust, parts of the ceilings knocked out and covering tables with chairs tucked underneath just wishing someone would pull it out and sit at it one last time.

“Okay-here’s what we’re gonna do, we’re gonna get as much as we can find and hurry up and get the fuck outta here. Don’t wanna spend a lot of time here, do you hear me?” He shines the light right in your eyes, his words short and dry.

You shrug and raise your eyebrows, “Yes, I hear you.” You push the flashlight out of his hand and he kisses your forehead sweetly before walking on, lighting up his path as much as he can. There was a soft tingle on the back of your neck and it wasn’t the good kind. It was as if something was lurking behind you in a scary dark corner, something you couldn’t see. It took you no time to catch up to him, lightly holding onto his bag as he took calculated steps between the rubble.

“All those horror movies you watched and yet you still can’t hold your goddamn knife correctly. What did I tell you about holding it like that?” Joel’s shoulders drop as he turns to you, adjusting your hand on your knife. With a scoff and a slight head shake, he was off again and walking towards the pharmacy. You couldn’t help but notice the halloween store across from it, your heart racing as a sliver of normalcy was in your reach. The ginormous pit in your stomach to feel like you were back in your old life, digging through decorations to beg your mom to buy while she looked disgustedly at the skimpy costumes.

“J-Joel…can we go in there? Please? I just wanna…look.” You must’ve patted his shoulder a dozen times which only granted a stern look and the annoyance so apparent on his face.

“I’m sorry, were you conscious when I said we are not going anywhere except the pharmacy?” Rude.

“Yes, thank you. I just wanna look. Twenty minutes tops, please?” Being with Joel tested your patience every single day, you never had to negotiate or handle being told no.

Not until you met him.

Joel takes a hold of your pack strap, yanking you towards him, “Help me get all this stuff and I’ll think about letting you set foot in there, clear?” His dark eyes glimmer in the faint daylight ripping through the broken ceiling. You try to pull yourself away from his personal space but his eyebrows raise awaiting a response from you.

“O-kay!” You finally free yourself and stand up, walking straight into the pharmacy. Garbage scattered everywhere and almost empty shelves holding things that weren’t useful in any way. Extending your arm out to run your fingertips against the items, you feel the dust and dirt coating them as you walk down the isles slowly and look for anything you could stash away in your little hideout for the winter.

Joel dips into the backroom and into a storage closet, climbing on top of a chair to lift the ceiling tile to the side. Put away inside an old duffle bag was bandages, rubbing alcohol, tons of supplies that made up first aid kits, sewing needles and thread in case you have to stitch someone up again, and of course some miscellaneous pills he took from the shelves of medication, knowing exactly what each one was.

You could hear him rummaging around behind you the further you got from him to look at the back wall full of sunglasses, untouched on the spinning racks of their display.

A pair catches your eye, gold tinted aviators that just scream 70’s.

“Joel, come here! You have to try these on!” You tuck the pair for him under your arm and grab the biggest rounded frame you could find, pushing them up the bridge of your nose.

Shoving the duffle bag onto his broad shoulder, he makes his way to you and his flashlight shines at your feet, up your body slowly until you turn around and show him what you found.

“I think you need a pair of sunglasses, baby. For when you’re outside workin’, looking all sexy for me.” You tease and carefully put the sunglasses on his face. He shuffles to the side of you and dips down to see his reflection in the mirror, groaning in disgust.

“No, absolutely not. The hell I look like wearin’ those.” Joel pinches the arm of the eyewear and hands them back with zero interest.

You tuck them away into your bag anyway and grab the smoke colored square framed pair with rhinestones all over them. He didn’t wait for you like usual as he was already by the doors you entered once before.

“You get ten minutes and then we’re going back.” He lifts the metal gate just enough for you to slip under and you hold it open for him, letting it thud against the marble floor as he stands up with a slight groan and a rub to his knee.

The adrenaline was pumping through you, feeling at home once more even if it was just for a split second.

The VHS tapes covering the walls, toys and costumes everywhere, DVD case covers scattered around your feet. It was everything you wanted and more, to feel like you were who you once were before all of this ripped you from the life you took for granted.

“See anything you maybe uh…wanna decorate the cabin with?” Joel irrupts from behind you, hand on your hip slightly. You turn to meet his eyes, the innocence in your eyes making him smile.

“Don’t go crazy, just a few things because we gotta carry it. Just a little bit of stuff to make it feel a little more lived in.” His tone was patient and understanding that this meant a lot to you.

“Really? You mean that?” The way you kind of didn’t believe he was being serious was enough to warrant a nod from him with a silly look on his face, almost like you offended him.

“Well let’s go, you got eight minutes.” He smacks your ass again and wiggles it a little before holding his flashlight above your head so you could see where you were walking.

So much to choose from and not enough time from Joel. You wanted it all. You wanted the movies to feel a little better but you knew he wouldn’t carry the display TV back to the cabin and he would never watch the shit you’d pick out anyway. You settle for two strings of glittery garland that you knew he’d find something to complain about, a few little ceramic ghosts to put in the windows and the pair of cuffs you took out of the package to a cop costume. Kneeling down and slinging your bag off your back, you start to put everything away, until the cuffs jingle against each other.

“What was that you just put in there?” You look up at Joel and you don’t answer, contemplating if you should play with him or not. His eyes flicked to your lips as he licked his, standing his ground over you with his hands on his hips.

“Answer me, lil lady.”

Fuck.

You were made and you knew he would immediately tell you to put them back, that there’s no way he’d let you cuff him to the bedpost and ride him until the sun came up.

Just as you were about to answer, a clicker busts through the door from the storage closet behind you, growling and clicking as it charges towards you. Joel takes your hand and pulls you off the ground, running for the entrance when one of your sweater holes gets caught on a broken clothing rack and pulls you right from his grasp.

He grunts loudly as the clicker gets closer and closer to you while you tug and try to free yourself but to no avail, your knife fell from your other hand when you got pulled back.

The squelch of Joel’s knife twisting in the clickers chest catches your wide eyed gaze as you pant and try to scoot away but your boots slip against the trash, the body falling right in front of you.

It was still squirming and reaching at you, looking you dead in the eye as it grabbed the tip of your shoe.

Joel’s boot presses against its head to hold it against the floor as he shoots it dead. The grunting and squealing came to a silence while Joel looks over at you, his chest rising fast as he holds out his hand to help you up.

Clutching his wrist to pull yourself up, you shake off the bits of flesh that got on your boot and you can see his nostrils are flared still, eyes burning with anger.

“What did I tell you about that goddamn sweater! You almost got yourself fuckin’ killed, jesus christ.” His voice booms as he shakes you a little before pulling you into his embrace.

Joel catches his breath and pets your hair softly.

“Baby I’m-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry- are you okay?”

Your body still shudders against him and you nod in his chest.

“I’m fine, Joel. Let’s go h-...to the cabin.” It hurt him to hear you stop yourself from saying the cabin was home. You wanted to call it home so badly but the thought of you getting so comfortable with him to the point that you'd call his cabin your home, scared you to fucking pieces.

The cabin was dimly lit from what little sunlight you had left and your boots clunked against the wooden porch as you opened the front door to the living room. It was kind of a quiet walk home, not a lot of words shared between you and Joel. He didn’t want to pry and nag about how you were feeling but he wanted to know if you were still mad at him. Some small part of him felt like an ass for yelling at you after he told you he’d work on that but in his defense he was terrified at how close to death you got.

“You hungry, baby?” He asked as he shucked off his bag and jacket before kicking off his boots. You unlace your shoes and kick them next to his, shaking your head no.

He sighs deeply, shoulders dropping while his hands go to your waist and pull you into him.

“I know that’s not true, those snacks were gone before we were even halfway there. Now, tell me what you’re hungry for and I’ll make it for ya…” He rocks you back and forth slowly as he hums softly against your head.

“Spaghetti..maybe? I noticed you had pasta in the cupboard next to the stuff you said wasn’t just for any ol’ meal and..” Joel grabs your face lovingly, the tender touch of the rough man was somehow so calming to you. He tried his best to be delicate with you when he could see you needed it the most but this is Joel Miller, how soft could he naturally be?

“You want spaghetti, we’re gonna eat spaghetti. You can decorate while I get dinner going, how’s that sound, sweet girl?”

His smile grew to match yours and he placed his lips on your forehead before he went to the kitchen to rummage through the cabinets to find all the pots and ingredients he needed.

Picking up your bag with all of your Halloween decorations stuffed inside you begin to put your ghost figures in small places you know Joel won’t accidentally bump them and knock them over. One in the windowsill by the kitchen sink, one by your side of the bed, and one in Joel’s room by his clock. Peeking around the corner to see where exactly he was and his back was to you while he drained the pasta from the water in the sink, you dip back into his room with the little black cat figurine you took at the last second after he killed the clicker and walked away from you in the heat of the moment. He was frustrated with you but you still took it knowing you’d never be there again and you’d regret never taking it for him.

There it sits on his table tucked right by his clock. It was only a matter of time before he would see it and question why you did something nice for him. Joel couldn’t understand that you wanted to do everything for him. Being with him in this predicament and such a short time made it feel like you’d been there for years, like you could spend the rest of your life here with him.

“Let’s eat, honey!” He booms from the kitchen and you can heat the plates being set on the table. When you round the corner to face the kitchen, you see the table set with candles of all shapes and widths. This was the most special he’s made you feel yet, besides carving pumpkins with you.

“Cmon, gotta surprise for ya when we’re done eating.” Joel was trying to hide a devilish grin but he was terrible at it, the glass to his lips not being a good shield from your eyes at all. You furrow your brows at him as you sit down hesitantly. What could he have planned that you don’t know about?

“A surprise? Since when do you do surprises?” Your fork clanks against the plate to scoop up spaghetti, the steam rolling off the top hits your hand and makes you shiver slightly.

Joel squints playfully and shovels the warm pasta in his mouth to chew thoroughly before answering you lowly, “Yeah alright, keep bein’ a smartass and see what it’ll get you.” His dark eyes glimmered behind the candle flame and you felt that same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when you first met him. You were desperate for him at this point and it was almost comical it wasn’t written all over your face.

The two of you talk about whatever you could think of as you indulge in the best meal you’ve had in months. You could only take so many goddamn stews and soups before it was enough, Joel on the other hand could make anything work for a meal and be fine.

“Did you wanna put the garland on the railing outside while I clean up this mess?” He chugs down the rest of his water and wipes his mouth with his napkin, looking at you with a hidden agenda.

“Oh, shit! I forgot about that!” You practically fall out of your chair to get it from your bag and you slip on your boots to go out on the porch.

“Take a flashlight with you!” Joel yells from his seat and all he sees is your hand reach through the front door to the hall tree that held all your stuff, grabbing your flashlight before shutting the front door once more.

He chuckles to himself as scratches the back of his head thinking about you and how you always kept him guessing your next move. While you wrapped the orange and black garland around the stair railing, little did you know Joel wasn’t actually doing the dishes. He was in the bedroom unpacking the duffle bag from earlier at the pharmacy, tucking away the pills in the bottom drawer in the bathroom. His backpack was sitting at the end of the couch and he opened it, taking out the one thing you didn’t know he stashed.

A ghostface mask.

Just as you stand up and back away to observe the work you did, a tall figure standing on the side of the cabin makes you freeze in your place. Quickly you realize it’s Joel with the way he’s standing and the knife at his side. The corners of your mouth turn up and you walk towards him, tucking your hands behind your back.

“What the hell are you doing?” You question and tug on his jacket teasingly.

No answer.

All he does is cock his head slightly at you with his knife still at his side.

Your excitement wets your panties and you can feel your fingers going cold but the adrenaline running through your body keeps you warm.

“Joel seriously, what are you doing?” Your tone is a little more firm this time.

He raises his arm to point his knife towards the house and he mutters from under the mask, “Run. If I find you, I fuck you. My way.”

Your jell-o feeling legs stumble backwards to take off towards the house, Joel charging at you in no time. He knew there were only so many hiding spots in the cabin, that was the point. You went for the obvious place but you knew he’d get a laugh at it, under the bed.

The weight of his boots moved on the porch and the front door swung open widely, smacking the wall behind it. It was seconds after he walked in the cabin that you had to cover your mouth and nose so he couldn’t hear the small pants of breath coming from under the bed. With your feet at the end of where the bed is, you watch closely at the door and soon enough his boots are in your vision. You know he won’t hurt you too much but god damn was your heart racing.

Joel slowly makes his way to the door frame of the bedroom and he stops abruptly to inspect the room. Slinking his way closer, your eyes follow his every move and when he stops at the end of the bed you knew he knew.

With a rough yank on your ankles, Joel quickly pulls you out from under the bed and you squeal in excitement.

“No, no, no please, don’t hurt me.” You protest and he tosses you face first on the bed, ripping your jeans below your ass cheeks. A groan bellows from Joel with a sharp smack to your ass and it sends you whimpering with your head between your arms.

The cold blade of the knife traces over your lower back and your wiggling reaction earns a chuckle from Joel before the ripping of fabric fills your ears. He cut your fucking panties. Slipping the fabric off of you between your thighs, he couldn’t help but admire the wetness on them.

A thud hits the headboard and you turn around to see his knife wiggling as he just finished driving it into the wood before he smacks your ass again.

His rough hand meets the middle of your back and presses down firmly so your ribs lay comfortably on the bed as his free hand unbuckles his belt slowly.

The only thing you could hear was his belt buckle hitting the wooden floor and the sound of his boots hitting the rug while he simultaneously rubbed his thumb over your aching clit.

“F-fuck, daddy yes, I need you inside me please.” You try to claw at him but he just shoves you down on the bed again. Joel lifts the mask up momentarily to spit on your asshole, eagerly watching it drip down over your entrance and through your sticky sweet folds.

He whips out his long hard cock to slap your asshole with the tip and he snickers as he sees you tense up thinking he’s going to fuck your ass.

“Not yet, baby. Now…stay still for daddy, yeah? Be a good pretty girl for me.” He groans as he slips inside your pussy. You can hear his thick breathing and cussing reverberate off the mask and it makes you spread your legs further apart, wanting to please him in any way you can.

There was no easing into it, Joel’s hands grab your wrists and pin them against your back before his hips begin slamming against you harshly. When Joel got to have his way with you, he wasn’t gentle with it. All the pent up frustration you gave him was taken out on you this way and it had the opposite effect, it only made you act out more.

Joel’s grunts with every thrust inside you, his hands squeeze your wrists tighter and tighter the hornier he gets. Your pussy clenches around his cock in excitement and you squeal out a slew of his name mixed with curse words, too mumbled for him to decipher what you said.

“Fuck, you’re such a good little angel wrappin’ around my cock like that- ohh shit.” He hisses and your arm falls to your side, Joel’s hand wrapping around your throat roughly. You cry out as you can feel the head of his cock bumping your cervix and Joel puts his right foot on the bed to get a better angle on you, his hips never stopped moving.

With his thick fingers squeezing every bit of air out of you, he growls in your ear, “You like when daddy plays rough with you like the nasty little girl you are?” He chuckles and squeezes harder around your throat so you can’t answer.

You close your eyes as the roll back with lust and your body begins to shake underneath him, his cock still ramming into you and making your head spin.

“I wanna-oh my goddd-come for you daddy, please. Let me come, please-I can’t-god..fuuck.” You choke out and he goes faster, slamming into you so hard the bed squeaks with every thrust.

“Aww, you wanna come all over my cock, honey? Show me how good you are and come, right fuckin’ now.” Joel’s voice vibrates against your ear before he stands up straight and grabs onto your hips to keep himself steady as he fucks you as hard as he can.

It was almost as if the Earth stopped spinning and everything hit all at once. You fell flat on the bed as you screamed his name, trying to wiggle away from him but it was no use. Joel pins your hips down and continues at you, groaning louder as his cock twitches inside you.

“God damn, that’s a good girl-oh fuck.-Gonna make daddy fill up that pretty little pussy of yours, baby. Bet you’d like that huh? Goin’ to sleep with my cum inside you.” He mutters through his teeth as his jaw clenches, his head tilting back.

You try to shove him away as you shake from the overwhelming feeling on your pussy but he’s too far into it to stop. He needs to get himself off inside you if it’s the last thing he does.

A few spanks to your ass and a couple squeezes to your tits, Joel’s breath becomes heavier as he empties his balls deep in you.

He cusses loudly and grabs your ass for dear life as his knees go weak with each string of cum he shoots. Joel’s cock goes soft inside you and he pulls out slowly, seeing the cum already threaten to spill from your aching hole. As you lay there dizzy and so fucked out, he sits beside you and gives a little pat to your ass, taking off the ghostface mask and giving it a toss to the floor.

Neither one of you says a word for a few minutes until you finally get the energy to lazily sit up and look at him.

“Can you fuck me like that from now on, please?” you ask breathlessly and he looks at you in awe.

“Come here.” Joel whispers and his hand grabs the back of your head gently, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

“Let’s go take a bath.” You mumble on his lips and leave him sitting there on the bed.

“Happy fuckin’ Halloween to me. God damn.” He says to himself with a grin and walks to the bathroom.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #chaotic-mystery #the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #not a survivalist girl #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou x reader #hbo tlou #joel tlou

138 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 8 months

Note

I REALLY need some Joel fluff where reader says to him “I have loved you with all of my soul”

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I WENT OVERBOARD SO HOPEFULLY ITS OKAY

Kiss Me Once, and Kiss Me Twice

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was either gonna not write or write too much guess what happened

Summary: You and Joel finally get married [4.3k!!!!]

Warnings: wedding stress, quick quick mentions of smoking tobacco and marijuana, emotions, Hank Miller being the only southern boomer I care about, fluff :-)

When you were growing up and imagining your wedding day, you never saw yourself getting married in Texas. But once you're in the throes of wedding planning, you very quickly realize you don't want to get married in California. Too many people. Too much of a chance of the paparazzi crashing the wedding. Too close to home. Joel talks about the idea of getting married in your home town which you veto immediately. He starts listing every location significant to you two, New York, Ireland, Spain, and even Australia, but none of them feel right. At one point, you even think about suggesting you just go to the courthouse and file the paperwork, but you know Joel's family would be heartbroken if you didn't have a "real" wedding.

Filming has taken over a majority of your life, as it often does. Joel is in the process of creating his own record label with a studio to match. Ellie is looking at colleges and trying to figure out her next steps, while Sarah is already planning her move to Sacramento to pursue a job and her Master's degree. It feels like there will never be a right time for your wedding. One night, when you're on hour three of being hunched over your computer, looking at fucking floral arrangements, Joel comes up behind you and kneads relaxing circles into your neck with big hands. You sigh and lean back into him, pressing your head into his belly.

"I thought this was gonna be more fun." You mumble, and he laughs as he leans down to kiss the spot under your ear.

"And I thought I told you to hire a wedding planner." He says.

"I don't want a wedding planner. I just want a wedding."

"Well, honey," you can hear him trying to hold in his laughter at your stubborn pouting. To his credit, he pulls it together. "We can find a way to make that happen, but for now, why don't you take a break? You can tell me all your wedding ideas while I pack our bags for Texas." He says, his thumbs adding a little more pressure to your sore muscles, and you melt into him. He could've asked you for the moon right then, and you would've said yes.

"Only if you promise to tell me your ideas, too."

"Deal." He says as he shuts your laptop and scoops you out of your chair. You spend the rest of the night debating cake flavors, groomsmen and bridesmaids, and where you want to go on your honeymoon. It's technically still wedding planning but all the light-hearted parts of wedding planning. You're grateful for the distraction.

Two days later, you, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and the girls get on a flight back to Austin. Hank and Lucia are overdue for a visit anyways, and you figured getting out of California might help to clear your heads for a while. However, the boys immediately flee the scene when you arrive at the Miller Ranch. You and Lucia share a confused look as Hank leads them down a steep hill, pointing at a pasture and talking about something you can't hear, but decide to take it as an opportunity for girl time.

You, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie spend the night drinking margaritas and exchanging stories. It's nice to giggle and talk with them like you're little girls again. In a way, they make you feel like you get a second chance at girlhood, and for that, you will always be grateful. Once it gets close to dinner time, the Miller men shuffle their way back inside the house, kick off their muddy boots, walk over to their partners, and kiss them sweetly.

As one big blended family, you make dinner together. Lucia delegates tasks while Hank and the girls steal pieces of chicken when nobody's looking. Joel pretends to need something from the fridge to slide past you and smack your ass as he does. Lucia catches him, hits his arm, and yells at him in Spanish about being nice to you. "Mamá!" Joel tries to defend himself, but you just give him a look and leave him to be lectured at by his mother. Once dinner is ready, you all sit at the long table in the dining room and continue to laugh, talk, and be a family. Maria asks questions about wedding planning while Lucia (lovingly) interrogates Ellie and Sarah about their love lives.

"Are you dating anyone, mija?" Lucia asks, gesturing to Sarah. Sarah shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and you know, even if she lied, her grandmother would see right through it.

"I actually met someone," she says. "His name is Ethan. He's a firefighter, and we met when someone pulled the fire alarm on campus."

"He's really nice, Mamá," Joel jumps in before Lucia can continue her questions, raising his eyebrows at her. "We really like him." He looks at you like he's trying to show you how supportive he's being of Sarah's relationship even though it took him multiple meetings and several talks with both of you to approve of his daughter's choices.

"Sarah, you didn't even tell her the best part." You poke, and Sarah sighs, already anticipating Lucia's reaction and making you smirk as you eat.

"There's a best part?" Lucia asks. "Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Ethan speaks Spanish," Sarah says. Lucia got so excited you would've thought the second coming of Christ was happening in her living room. She immediately starts talking about coming to LA to meet him and his family or even flying them out to Austin to see the ranch. You can't help but smile as you watch them conspire together.

Once everyone is full, the boys take the dirty plates to the kitchen to wash them while you and the other women put away the leftovers and clean the table. Joel waits until the dining room is back together before stealing you away from the chaos and bringing you outside. The sun setting over the Texas hill country takes your breath away as he walks you halfway between the house and the stables, with just enough acreage to not see too much of either. You can't believe how quiet it is out here. Once you get far enough out, Tommy and Hank come into view with little posts in the ground.

"What's this?" You ask Joel as you get closer, and he smiles. He takes his hand in yours and stops walking to look at you.

"I've been thinkin’, and I wanted to see what you thought about gettin’ married here." He says.

"On the ranch?"

"Look, we've already mapped it all out," he says, leaving your side to walk to one of the posts. "This could be the dance floor, and over here," he walks a few feet to another post. "This could be where the tables get set up," he gestures before walking back over to you and pointing to a big white oak tree a couple hundred feet away. "And we could have the ceremony under that tree. Dad and Tommy already said they would help me put up some of those fairy lights you like so much. We could make it really nice." He says, and you glance between him and Hank and Tommy.

"Is this what you guys did all afternoon?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hank says, and you smile. You look out at the painted sky with the wildflowers swaying in the breeze, and from this far out, you can see the comforting glow of light from the house. You can also spot a lazy Longhorn grazing in the pasture about half a mile away, completely unaware of the world around him. It's beautiful. And private. And so perfectly encompasses what you both want for the wedding.

"You don't have to make a decision right now. I know it's a lot, but I thought it'd be fun." Joel says. You wrap your arms around his neck and step into him, smiling when his hands find your waist.

"Let's do it." You say, and he lights up.

"Wait, really?"

"I never thought I'd say it, but yeah. Let's get married in Texas." The words are barely out of your mouth before he picks you up off the ground and spins you around giddily. He kisses you to seal the deal, and Tommy and Hank cheer from their spots.

After that, wedding planning really ramps up. You set an official date. You make Carolina your Maid of Honor, and Ryan agrees to stand in as your officiant after Lucia determines he's "just Catholic enough." Elizabeth gets the responsibility of ring bearer since she's a little older, while Victoria is the flower girl. You quickly add Sarah, Ellie, and Maria to your wedding party after assuring Ellie that she can wear whatever she wants. Joel makes Tommy his Best Man and asks his band to be his groomsmen. Even though Wayne is the only other guy in the band, they all say yes and don't even blink at the idea of having to fly to Texas.

The next few months are a blur of flower orders, cake tastings, schedule workarounds, and more. Carolina, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie go dress shopping with you. You were initially just going to send some ideas to your stylist for her to make you a dress, but they were all vehemently against that idea. It takes a couple different stores and a handful of different dresses, but you finally find a sleek silk dress with a lace bodice that makes everyone, including you, cry when you stand in the mirror. Your bridesmaids find their outfits in no time, and Carolina gets cute little dresses for the girls.

You only invite the really important people and a photographer. You only tell a few people outside the guests and the wedding party when and where you're getting married. It's none of their business. This is just for your family. No outsiders. You don't even hire a DJ. Tommy just agrees to bring a big speaker, and you sit down to make a playlist with Joel about a month before the wedding.

Your crew of people descend upon Austin the week of your wedding, ready to work together to turn the Miller Ranch into a dream location. Thankfully, Hank and Lucia have gathered their own community of people and already have half the work done by the time you come up the long dirt driveway. Ryan helps Hank, Tommy, and his buddies hang lights in the tree. Carolina and Sarah help Lucia, and her friends put together centerpieces. Joel's band and Ellie set up tables and the dance floor. Whenever you or Joel try to help or lend a hand, someone ends up shooing you away and telling you to relax. They only listen to either of you when you're giving direction on how you want things to go.

You keep the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties to a minimum, only going out to a few bars far from Sixth Street and spending most of the time getting drunk in the guest house turned Bridal Suite. You're pretty sure Hank gave Joel and the groomsmen cigars, which is fine as long as they don't find out you gave the bridesmaids weed. It's nice to not have to worry about nosy people or cameras ruining the days leading up to your wedding. The quiet, giggly privacy is all you want. It also helps to clear your head when writing your vows.

From the beginning, you and Joel decided you wanted to write your own vows instead of using the archaic, pre-written ones. You just didn't know then how hard it would be to find the right things to say. You ask Carolina, Lucia, and Maria for advice, but they just tell you the same cheesy line of "writing from your heart." While it's incredibly sweet, it's not exactly helpful. The night before the wedding, Sarah and Ellie sneak into your room for one last sleepover before you marry Joel, and you ask them for help. You read them what you've already written and catch them both wiping tears as you recite it. They give you logical advice and stay up with you to rewrite your vows until they're perfect. You fall asleep with them tucked under your arms like babies despite them being twenty-two and eighteen.

In the morning, everyone piles into your room with plates of breakfast and mimosas from the main house. You're not allowed to leave the guest house because they think if you see Joel before the ceremony, it'll be bad luck. You're not sure you believe that, but you'll take the excuse to get other people to run things to and from the house. Ellie plays music from her speaker as everyone picks a corner to do their hair and makeup in, and you spend the first half of the day getting ready and spending time with the most important women in your life. They help you into your dress once the photographer arrives to take pre-wedding photos of you guys, but everyone is a crying mess once you're all dressed up with the dress, veil, and everything.

Many, many sweet words and hugs are exchanged, and the photographer catches all of them. Sarah and Ellie surprise you with new earrings from Joel and a beautiful necklace they picked out for the wedding. Sarah helps you put on the earrings while Ellie clasps the necklace around your neck. You give the girls rings that match the one you've been hiding in plain sight on your right ring finger for weeks now. "For as much as I'm promising to love your dad today, I'm also promising to love you guys with everything I am for as long as I am," you say, tears springing in your eyes as you hand the delicate rings to them. They're crying, too, but they're holding it together a little bit better than you are. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. And I hope I never forget just how lucky I am to have two of the most extraordinary women in the world in my life." After all these years, it feels like you're finally becoming the family you always knew you were.

The rest of the day goes by way too fast. One minute you're hugging Sarah and Ellie, and the next, your arm is tucked under Hank's as your bridesmaids and goddaughters slowly walk down the aisle. Your heart is beating fast against your rib cage, and you feel like you can't breathe, but you know once you see Joel, you'll feel completely at peace. You go from fiddling with your bouquet to your engagement ring to even readjusting Hank's tie as Alex plays an instrumental version of your favorite ABBA song.

"Honey, look at me," Hank says gently. You meet his green eyes, and he smiles as he puts a hand over yours and squeezes. "Take a breath," he says. He demonstrates with an exaggerated inhale in case you forgot and you copy him. Together, you take three big breaths, and once the last of the Texas air leaves your lungs, Hank squeezes your hand again. "Now, I know I really shouldn't be sayin' this since that's my boy up there, but if you've gone and changed your mind, I'll bring my truck round the corner and drive you wherever you needa go." You laugh at his words and shake your head.

"I kinda love him, so I think I'll be okay, but thank you." You try to brush it off, but your anxiety still lingers. Hank nods and bumps you with his shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I was scared shitless the day I married Lucia." He whispers like it's a secret, and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirms. "We were so goddamn young and thought we were so grown up. I remember seein' her walkin' down the aisle and just thinkin' bout how I was gonna support her and give her the life she deserved. I didn't know if I was man enough to do it. I almost started cryin' just cause of that."

"What changed?" You ask, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His hair moves with the wind, and for a second, you get a glimpse of what Joel could look like at his age. And it doesn't scare you.

"She smiled at me, and I was done for. I knew if I didn't marry her, I was gonna be kickin' myself for the rest of my life," he finds the back of Lucia's head as Tommy and Carolina pass her, and he smiles. "Still the best decision I ever made." You take a deep breath and realize the line of wedding party is getting shorter and shorter as each pair is dispatched down the aisle. Your heart is still beating fast, but you feel less sick and more excited about getting to see Joel after not seeing him all day. You squeeze Hank's hand again before sliding it under his arm and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Ready, baby girl?" He asks as he kisses your head, and you nod. With Hank's strong arm leading the way, you start walking down the aisle and immediately lock eyes with Joel. He starts crying, which makes you start crying so much you have to blink several times to see how handsome he looks in his suit. Hank kisses your cheek as you reach the aisle's end before hugging Joel and handing you off to him. You turn around, give Carolina your bouquet, and take Joel's hands.

"You look so beautiful," Joel whispers, and you sniffle.

"Thank you," you whisper back. "You look pretty handsome yourself."

"Gucci," he mouths, gesturing to his suit, and you nod your approval. It's silly enough to break the emotional tension as Ryan starts speaking, even though you're not really listening. He says something to appease Lucia's Catholic roots before talking about how important and beautiful marriage is, but you can't stop staring at Joel. It's only when Ryan says your name and the word 'vows' do you snap back to reality. Carolina quickly supplies you with the scribbled-on paper and a tissue because nobody knows you as well as she does, and you squeeze Joel's hand.

"Joel, it seems hard to remember a time when we weren't together and even harder to remember what my life was like before I met you. I did and accomplished so many important things, but nothing seemed as important or special once you and the girls came into my life. You three became my entire world, and for that alone, I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for that gift," you say. "When I was trying to write my vows, I honestly didn't know where to start. Instead of struggling by myself, I asked the two people who've been there since the beginning of our relationship: Sarah and Ellie. After giving me lots of advice and all but forcing me to add something about loving you even though you snore," you and Joel laugh.

"Sarah told me it might be a good idea to write about the very first time I realized I loved you, but when I started thinking about it, I realized I couldn't pinpoint one specific day or time. There was never a moment of clarity or realization when it came to you. Loving you came easily and naturally, like breathing, and once I realized it, I knew there was no going back. You were and still are the person I want to spend my life with. Our story is not traditional or necessarily one for the history books, and I think you'd agree with me," your voice catches in your throat, and Joel's thumb brushes against your knuckles softly.

"We've had setbacks and hard times. Everything from moving across the world to trying to remember who loaded the dishwasher last but through everything, you were my home. My safe place. My reason to keep going. And if historians in a hundred years pay us any attention, I hope they write about how protected you made me feel. I hope they talk about how we found ways to laugh together even when it felt hard. I hope they spend hours and hours lecturing about how much I loved you because I do. I have loved you with all my soul for as long as I can remember, and I will keep loving you like that until long after I forget the exact details of our first date. Thank you for choosing me." You sniffle, fold your paper back up, and wipe under your eyes with Carolina's tissue. Various sniffles and tears rake over your guests and wedding party as Tommy hands Joel his vows with wet eyes.

"When I first moved to LA with Sarah, I didn't know what was gonna happen. I didn't know I'd have another daughter, my band, or meet the love of my life. The day we met, I remember thinkin' I'd never known anybody as witty or smart as you, and I still think that. But now, after so many years, I know you're more than that. You're brave, kind, talented, hard-working, and way out of my league," he says, and you laugh. "The first time I remember realizin' just what an amazing person you are was when I told you about Sarah and Ellie. Other people would be freaked out or even upset if they found out the person they'd been datin' had kids. You weren't. You asked questions about them and were selfless with your time so I could be with the girls when they needed a little extra love and care. And when you met them, you treated them like you'd known them your whole life. You treated them like you're own," he squeezes your hand a little hard like he's trying to find the strength to continue. "That's when I knew I was gonna marry you,"

"I trusted you then with the two people closest to my heart and it's safe to say you'll always be the one I trust with the girls. You'll always be the one I trust to get me out of bed on time. You'll always be the one I trust to help me make fashion choices. You'll always be the one I trust to be patient with me and get coffee when we need to recharge because you're my person. I love you, and I'll love you when I'm old and wrinkly and can't hear for shit. And you'll know all my stories, and I'll know all your movies by heart, and we'll laugh for years and years. I can't wait to start forever with you." He almost wipes his eyes with his vows, and you quickly switch his hands, making him laugh.

I love you, he mouths.

I love you, too, you mouth back.

Everyone, including Ryan, takes a second to sit in their emotions before taking a deep breath and coming back together. He calls Elizabeth forward, and you exchange rings. Joel stands up a little straighter the second the gold band is placed on his left hand, and you smile. Ryan clears his throat, eyes shining as he stares at you two and opens his mouth.

"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" He announces. Your few guests cheer loudly as Joel cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. Wildflower petals scatter around you, and the sun is setting behind the altar, but nothing matters as much as your husband does now. He kisses you a few more times before finally pulling away and joining the cheering. You walk back up the aisle, now married, and everyone follows after you.

The reception after is perfect with all your favorite foods and desserts, including Lucia's Texas Trash Pie, which makes your mouth water just looking at it. People hug you and Joel and offer congratulations and even a few sweet tears at the ceremony. Carolina and Tommy deliver amazing, hilarious speeches honoring both of you, and then it's finally time to dance. You and Joel chose "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and Harry James for your first dance, and under the fairy lights and setting Texas sun, you realize just how perfect a choice it was.

You bury your head in his neck and sway slowly with him, basking in the tenderness of being so close to him. He sings along quietly and kisses the shell of your ear as you dance. Towards the end, you spot Ellie and Sarah standing beside the dance floor and wave them to you behind Joel's back. They hesitate for a second before running to join you. Joel tucks each girl under his arm and kisses their foreheads. The four of you make for an awkward little slow dance, but you're all giggling and smiling despite it.

As the song ends, Joel escorts the three of you off the dance floor before grabbing Lucia for the mother-son dance. Lucia is so short compared to Joel that it's almost impossible not to smile. Still, he's slow and careful with her, and his eyes sparkle as they converse secretly. You catch Hank watching them through teary eyes nearby, and a secret plan hatches in your brain. Quickly, you rush over to where your phone is connected to the speaker and queue up an acoustic version of “Simply the Best” by Tina Turner. When Lucia and Joel's song ends, you grab Hank's hand and pull him onto the floor as the song starts playing.

"Now, what are you doin'?" He asks as you put your hands on his shoulders.

"You never got to have a father-daughter dance. I figured you should get at least one." You explain. Tears fill his eyes almost instantly, and you smile when he holds you close.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "For everythin'."

"I should be thanking you and Lucia. You raised my husband."

The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and spending time with your favorite people. You’re not exactly sure how long you were out there celebrating but you do know that your feet were sore and your brain utterly fried from the long, emotional day. Joel carries you to bed bridal style and carefully lays you down, doing his best not to rip your dress as he helps you slip your shoes off. Together, you undo your hair, take off your makeup, take off and hang up your dress, and change into one of Joel’s shirt before crawling into bed.

“Tired?” Joel asks as he starts shedding his wedding clothes too and you nod into the pillow.

“Sorry for not, like, wanting to consummate our marriage right now.” You say, and he laughs. It’s that delirious, breathless laughter where you’re not sure if the joke was actually that funny or if the reaction to it is. You laugh too and watch his nose scrunch up and his body shake with joy. He steps out of his slacks, presses a knee into the mattress to lean over you, and kisses you sweetly.

“Don’t worry bout that,” he mumbles against you. “We’ve got our whole lives.”

Once he’s finished changing, he crawls into bed and pulls you close to rub your back. You can feel his wedding band getting caught in the fabric but you don’t say anything. You fall asleep in his arms, full of love, Texas Trash Pie, and giddy excitement at what the future holds. How could you not when you get to spend it with him?

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel x actress!reader #rockstar!joel miller #the last of us au #the last of us fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #one for the money two for the show request #ellie the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us series #the last of us #the last of us fic

125 notes · View notes

cdragons · 2 months

Text

"La Vie En Rose" - Ikaris x Eternal!Reader

Summary: You and Ikaris are finally ready to take a big step in your relationship. The two of you hare details about yourselves to really show how much you two have loved one another throughout your entire existence and since the failed Emergence.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+, very heavy smut in the beginning, loss of virginity, Persephone!Reader/Sephia is demisexual, spoilers, talk of WW2 and its aftermath, mention of suicide, Druig and Kaety are mentioned, almost character death, author tries to talk about music but has no musical background

Author's Notes: I think this might be the longest Ikaris oneshot ever on Tumblr, with a whopping 9.2k word count. For context, I would go to this masterlist, and read the very first post. I would like to thank Grammarly for making sure I don't write like a hill-billy. A huge thanks to @ethereal-athalia for her help. A lot of these ideas could not have been done without her input. I hope y'all have a wonderful Valentine's Day! I also plan to make a Valentine's Day for Druig x Hecate!Reader

Inside the Ritz’s Suite Chopin in Paris, clothes were sprawled across the room. Your dress had pooled on the ground where Ikaris zipped it off you as soon as the door closed. His suit jacket and tie had been removed before you two entered the room. Despite how frantic your movements may have seemed on the outside, you and your lover knew that this moment had been long overdue.

The blue rings in his eyes thinned as his pupils widened at the sight of your strapless bra with its matching lacy cheeky-cut underwear and garter belt. After you ripped his dress shirt and buttons flew across the room, you marveled at the mass of muscle and heavenly skin by softly revering his body with your touch.

You traced every scar and line on his body as if handling a priceless painting. Ikaris sharply hissed at the feeling of your feather touch ghosting over his body. He responded by lifting you in his arms and wrapping your legs above his hips while he kept a firm grip on your soft, ample bottom. He felt your muscles tense before relaxing, and your body melted into his embrace as if the two of you were bodies were born to be together.

“I love you,” he whispered with each kiss he pressed on your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Ikaris,” you panted, “don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

Trailing kisses down your neck, your lover never took his lips off yours as he carried you across the living room to the boudoir covered with pomegranate flowers. Laying your body gently on the goose feather duvets, Ikaris stood utterly captivated by how your hair framed your face like an ethereal halo.

The sight was nothing short of heavenly.

The luminosity of the moonlight shining through the overhead window gave your form a celestial glow. Your divine figure, added with the contrast of colors from the blossoms on the stark bedspread, made him wonder if this was all a wonderful dream instead of his cruel reality.

Sensing his fear that you were only an illusion, you sat up and took Ikaris’ hand from his side to press a gentle kiss on his palm.

“Ikaris, I am here. I am with you. We are together – now and forever, forever and always.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, your immortal paramour felt a mountainous burden topple down as the relief of knowing this moment was not a figment of his imagination. His Adam’s apple bobbed as tears welled up in his iridescent blue irises.

Ikaris brought his other hand to cup your other cheek before lowering himself to plant a feathery kiss on your forehead. He closed his eyes – savoring the feel of your skin on his lips as he tried to memorize the scent of your hair with the fragrance of the pomegranate flowers surrounding you.

“Ikaris,” you softly begged, “please kiss me.”

And who was he to refuse such a sweet request?

Pressing his lips to yours, Ikaris felt you lower yourself until your back was fully pressed against the bedspreads underneath them. No matter how much his lungs clenched for air, he refused to part for even a breath of air. But you softly pushed him back. Ikaris opened his eyes – prepared to ask if you needed to stop. But he stopped himself at the sight of your lust-filled eyes with the blush on the apple of your cheeks. You reached behind your back and unclasped the hooks of your brassiere before removing the rest of your undergarments.

Time slowed down frame by frame as Ikaris watched you further reveal yourself to him. A part of your hair fell forward to cover your breasts as you lowered your head and fixated on your gaze on the silky scarlet petal of the flower you rubbed between your fingers. Scars and marks dotted your body from battles between deviants in the past. Ikaris knew he was the only man you let see so much.

You sighed as you couldn’t help but feel like shrinking into the shadows as he stared.

“I don’t…I know I’m not as pretty as most of the women you’ve slept with. My body is a bit…, and I’m not as willowy and lovely as Kaety or Sersi. Even Thena is so beautiful and strong. My hips have a weird dip and –” You felt like crying for ruining the moment. “I’m making this so awkward – I’m so sorry.”

Ikaris quietly sat across you for a moment. Then he tipped your chin, and you were forced to look at his stern expression but heated gaze.

“Sephia, your body…it’s lovely. There isn’t a woman or creature more beautiful than you.”

You scoffed inelegantly, but Ikaris shook his head.

“I’m serious. Sephia, I – everything about you is so mind-bogglingly wonderous and beautiful. I have thought so since we first met on the Domo. Who could possibly have given you the idea otherwise?”

You leaned into his chest and let out a deep sigh. “It was no one in particular. I just noticed that men continually gawked at my chest whenever we settled into a new location. They would always stare when I wasn’t looking. Sometimes, when they were drunk, they would tug on my dress and comment that I was either too big or too small. It’s why I preferred to wear their clothing. I thought I attracted too much attention from my Olympian Attire, so I hoped to be noticed less in their garbs. I tried telling Ajak, but she told me not to pay attention to their actions since they were only curious. But it didn’t stop until I told Kaety.”

Hearing your explanation, Ikaris’ hold on you tightened. Once more, he was in your friend’s debt. How dare those lowly men cause you so much strife? Had he known of your troubles, he would have ensured that those fools feared for their lives. But he knew if you were aware of his thoughts, it would only push you away – so he remained quiet.

Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on both of your cheeks and whispered to you how honored he was for this moment. His hands caressed your thighs, and he had your legs straddled on his hips as he made sure you were comfortable on his lap. He let you take the lead by wrapping your arms over his shoulders and groaned at the feeling of you pressing his chest against your bare bust.

The way he moaned your name made your stomach clench. “Sephia. Thank you. I will show you how beautiful to me– tonight and every night from now on if you’ll permit me.”

You nodded your head against the crook of his neck. You didn’t trust your voice to convey your love for the man with you tonight.

But Ikaris needed more. “Say it, Sephia. Look me in the eye and tell me if you want us to continue.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to show your trust. “I want you to continue.”

Bringing you in for a heated kiss, Ikaris and you explored each other’s bodies with your hands as your lips were locked in a familiar embrace. He then trails kisses down your chin and travels down your neck and across the tops of your breasts. You wondered if he could hear how hard your heart was beating against the confines of your rib cage as you panted for air.

Ikaris used one hand to cup one of your flushed breasts covered in love bites and kisses. On the other, he put his mouth on your puckered nipple and swirled his tongue around the areola.

You slowly rocked your hips and whispered for more. “Ikaris, Ikaris, Ikaris – more, more, please.”

Your body was his paradise, and you were his angel. Everything about you – the perfume of your skin, the silky luster of your hair, the addictive scent of your arousal – it was both all too much and never enough.

Switching breasts to continue his services, Ikaris wondered if he could get you to cum without directly touching you down there. He felt emboldened by the challenge with the breathless praises spilling from your lips that were swollen and red from his kisses.

He traveled down to your navel while continuing to trace his tongue and lips across your skin until he stopped at your navel. Dipping his tongue into your navel region, your initial reaction was a giggle, but then he used both of his hands to reach for your abandoned mounds to massage them. The rough calluses on his fingers gave way to new sensations unbeknownst to you, making your laughter change to moans.

Arching your back, you called out his name with your sweet voice. “Ikaris- Ikaris! It’s too…it’s too much!”

As you arched your back, you pushed your chest further into his hands. He tendered cupped them before giving them a hard squeeze and then used his fingers to pinch your nipples. Twisting and tugging them brought tears to your eyes as the pleasure from the attention he granted to your bosom with the swirling of his tongue in your navel.

The feel of Ikaris’ hot tongue contrasting with the cooling spit from his saliva only added to your rapture. You felt your stomach tighten into an invisible coil as you clawed and grasped onto the bed covers to ground you. The coil became tighter and tighter until your lips started to tremble as your core clenched around nothing, and your mouth opened to let out no noise as your vision went white. Your body squirmed, and you clamped your legs to unsuccessfully quell the sensations.

Ikaris’ mouth traveled down to your nether lips as he removed his hands from your breasts to spread your legs and put them over his shoulders. Although the sight of the Eternals’ strongest fighter between your legs was certainly an arousing view, you couldn't contain snorting at the absurdity of it all.

Your cerulean-eyed beloved raised a quizzical brow to showcase his offended feelings.

“And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing right now, flower?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“I’m sorry-” you couldn’t stop laughing “-I’m so sorry – I just never imagined being in this situation with you – with anyone.”

He gave you a flat look for you to continue.

You went on with your explanation. “For so long, I have never felt this way. You- you aren’t the first person I’ve been with – romantically, at least – but I could never feel myself wanting to go further. It always felt like something was stopping me. For so long, I thought something was wrong with me. And then, after talking with Kaety and Phastos, I thought I might be asexual. But it hadn’t been until those moments we spent in the field outside the village that I- I felt a bond transform from friendship to what I didn’t realize to be love to- to this.”

You stopped laughing and lifted your torso on one elbow to reach him. You cupped his face with one hand, and Ikaris nuzzled his face into your palm – welcoming the feel of your silky touch. In your eyes, there was enough love to make the world outside this room disappear.

“I haven��t felt this way for anyone but you. It was such an unexpected surprise, but I wasn’t scared. I think it was because- well, despite everything, I never felt unsafe around you. Ikaris, the years I spent with you after Thanos’ Snap and before the Emergence were some of the happiest years of my life. I don’t think there are words to describe how much I love you.”

It was only when you stroked your thumb on his cheek that Ikaris realized he was crying. As Ajak’s most trusted and loyal soldier, he had an image of stability to maintain. Before his suicide attempt in flying to the sun, he could count the number of times he cried throughout his life on one hand.

The first was when a deviant managed almost to sever his spine. The pain was so terrible. It took the efforts of Ajak and Kaetlyn to stop him from bleeding out and close the gash, but not without a garish scar across his back.

The second was when you left him and what remained of the team after Kaetlyn and Druig left in response to the genocide of Tenochtitlan citizens from Spanish conquistadors. He was hurt and felt betrayed. He called you weak and naïve to believe that you, Kaet, and Druig had better judgment than Arishem for humanity’s future. While your leaving broke his heart, his sobbing resulted from the pained look on your face from his words. He cried for three days after your departure.

The third time was after he killed Ajak. It broke his heart to kill the one he admired and followed for so long. She wanted to stop the Emergence and stop Arishem’s Grand Design of the birth of a new Celestial. But to do so was to condemn you to a slow and painful death, and Ajak knew that. The Avengers destroyed your regained health when they brought back the rest of humanity.

Ikaris knew that destroying the planet you loved so much would have brought you more pain than your illness, but it was humanity that weakened you so much from the beginning. If the Emergence must occur, Ikaris was sure he could ask Ajak to convince Arishem to allow him to keep his memories. If he had, he would have been able to love you from the beginning of everyone’s rebirth.

But he failed, and it nearly cost him you and your sister. The memory Druig implanted in his mind would haunt him forever. It was so unnatural to see Kaety so lifeless, so cold. The sight and Aisling’s screams with Laoise’s cries made it worse.

The fourth was when he stood before Sersi as her frame kneeled atop Tiamut’s emerging body. You lay unconscious as you allowed your new leader to use your cosmic energy to kill the infant Celestial but also to use your body as a medium to use the Celestial’s infinite amount of cosmic energy to revitalize the Earth. Standing in front of his sister as she kneeled next to your body, Sersi was ready to accept her death at her brother’s hand. But Ikaris could not steel his resolve to aim his heat vision at her heart.

He could not kill his sister – not when she was the one person he could ever love as much as he does you. She was the only person who trusted more than anyone in the world. She knew all his secrets and was the first to realize his love for you.

Just as Kaetlyn was your sister, Sersi was his. And so all he could do was let himself be used to destroy Tiamut, give one final goodbye to his sister, and give you one final kiss before he flew to the sun.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Ikaris? Are you all right?”

“Yes, flower,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“‘Thank you?’ Whatever for?” Your confused expression was so utterly adorable.

“Everything, I suppose,” he said while shrugging. “Sephia, you said you never imagined making love to anyone for thousands of years. But for me, it was all I could think about with you. As I said that night on the balcony, ‘I was made to love you.’ And I will say these words and show you how much I mean them for however long you permit me.”

Your heart sang out to his at his sweet words. You reached to pull him down for a kiss before whispering in his ear.

“Ikaris, will you make love to me?”

“Yes,” came his immediate answer. “But first, I must prepare you.”

“Has that not been what you’ve been doing so far?”

Your immortal worshiper gave you a lascivious grin in response. “My petal, this had only been the beginning.”

Your hands clenched his hair in a feeble attempt to get him to ease Ikaris’ feasting. But all your actions brought were him spreading your legs further apart. The feeling of his tongue flitting over your clit as he drove fingers to furiously thrust inside your cervix to the point of making you weep in ecstasy.

It started with one, then it became two. Soon, he added the third, and the pain from the stretch quickly drove you to a state of nymphomania. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, and it was far more intense than its predecessor. You felt your body spasm for a little bit before relaxing into the mattress as Ikaris languidly stroked your walls to carry out your climax for as long as possible.

This wasn’t the first time he had eaten you out, but it was the first time he could do so without interruptions.

As your essence spilled on his tongue, Ikaris let out an obtusely loud, close-mouthed groan, and its vibrations added to your overstimulation. Your body’s nectar was ambrosia worthy to be tasted only by gods. It was addictive enough for an Eternal such as himself to get drunk on it and crave its taste for all eternity.

He removed himself from the bed before frantically unbuckling his belt and stripping himself of his black slacks and boxer briefs. The way his shaft sprung out and its head hit Ikaris’ naval region made your eyes widen. It must have been around eight inches long, and the sight of it made you unconsciously clamp your legs close. It was pulsing dark pink with veins running along its length, and its head looked so swollen and red that it neared to purplish hue with a pearly white bead of precum leaking out.

You’ve seen corpses and anatomical diagrams. Kaety was the more explicit one out of the two of you. She had no qualms sharing even the most graphic details of Druig’s…thing.

But this was the first time you saw it in person, and you didn’t realize men could be so…big.

“Does it hurt…being like that?” you hesitantly asked as you reached forward to touch it. But he softly grasped your hand from getting too close.

Ikaris chuckled at your innocence. “It doesn’t hurt per se, but it is very sensitive. And if you touch it, I cannot promise you that I will last long enough to enjoy it.”

Kneeling on the bed, he carefully grabbed his length and positioned it just outside your soaking womanhood.

He cupped your cheek and brought your eyes to him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Don’t think about me. Do you want this?”

Looking into his eyes, you drowned in the overwhelming sea of love that was his beautiful blue eyes. You admit you still felt a twinge of fear. But more than fear, more than lust and desire, you felt safe. What you shared with Ikaris was more than how you ever hoped to feel with someone. It was real – what you shared with this man was true and went beyond physical attraction. Your bond with him had only grown stronger since his return; nothing would ever change that.

“I’m ready,” you whispered as you felt the increasing rate of your heartbeat. “I love you, Ikaris. With all of me.”

He positioned his cock until its head had just entered you. You sharply sucked in a breath.

“I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Take a deep breath if you need to. I won’t move until you feel like you’ve adjusted to it. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. I promise.”

“I know,” you replied. “I trust you.”

He gently pushed himself inside you inch-by-inch. The stretch of your walls around his manhood was almost painful. He was halfway inside you when you asked him to pause with two thin trails of tears running down your eyes.

“I just -” you gasped, “- I just need a minute.”

Ikaris softly stroked your cheek before catching a tear under your eye. “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

When you nodded to show you were ready, Ikaris continued to insert himself inside you until he fully bottomed out slowly. When he reached his hilt, he let out a mighty groan and husky rasp as you took a sharp and loud intake of breath. Despite how well-lubricated you were, the stretching of your cervix to accommodate his size was more than you expected. Thankfully, your lover did not move for the sake of you being able to adjust to the feel of him inside your tight walls.

Ikaris propped himself on one of his elbows as he hovered above you. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his moans, but the feeling of him being swallowed by your warmth was more euphoric than he could ever dream it to be. He lowered his head enough to kiss away the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered so sweetly. “This discomfort will pass, my love. I will not move until you are ready.”

Thank the stars he prepped you earlier. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have been able to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It was the strangest sensation. You felt so full – as evidenced by the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach – but the fullness was almost comforting.

It was evidence that you and your love joined bodies and became one.

You slowly wrapped your legs around Ikaris’ waist. Despite the discomfort, you wanted to feel as close and connected to the beautiful man hovering above you as possible. Soon, the pain lessened to a sting, and it dulled further before shifting to pleasure. It was not long before you craved the friction from Ikaris’ shaft moving inside you and slowly began grinding your hips against him to ease the ache inside you.

Ikaris could feel the fluttering of your cervix and your walls becoming more slick from your increasing arousal. Feeling your hips moving against him, he couldn’t stop the teasing leer at your squirming and the soft moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good? I wonder how it would feel if I did this–” he pushed his hips to give a shallow thrust and reveled at the way your back was so beautifully arched.

Your cries were no longer laced with pain but adorned with shock from the unexpected pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” he chuckled in smug amusement. “Fuck, your body is so responsive. You have no idea how much your sweet cries add to my ego.”

“I-Ikaris!” you stammered as you frantically moved your hips. “Please!”

“Please what, my flower?” he teased. “You know I can’t do anything until you provide explicit instructions.”

You wailed in frustration. “You know what I mean, you cruel man! I-I need you to m-move! I want to feel everything! PLEASE!”

Throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Ikaris gave you precisely what you wanted by giving hard, powerful drives. The squelch of your folds from each thrust was downright sinful and caused you to cry out his name. The slapping of his hips against your thighs, coupled with his gruff grunts and your high-pitched mewls, made for the most erotic symphony.

You felt so embarrassed by your reactions, but there was no use in holding back your reactions. You put your arm over your eyes to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Ikaris pinned it down to the side of your head. You opened your eyes to see if your lover was as out of control as you.

You were shocked to see how nearly black his eyes were, with almost no evidence of his lapis-lazuli irises. His lips had a thin, wet sheen of film covering them, and his hair was wholly tousled and unkempt from his usual militant style – a result of you running your fingers through it and yanking it.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cover your face,” he rasped. “I’ve waited for this moment for seven thousand years. All those years of watching those men stare at you with lustful eyes – every soldier, king, even fucking Thor. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it – what right did I have to do so? But tonight- tonight, I ensure that you will never want anyone else but me.”

You shook your head. “No…only you- I only want you, Ikaris. I swear!”

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “You feel so perfect – gripping me so tight. Do you feel as good as I do, my flower? Can you feel how I was made for you? As you were made for me? Can you feel how greedy your cunt is for me – I fit so perfectly inside you.”

The euphoria between you two reached such a crescendo that your bodies were frantically rocking against each other at an erratic tempo. You reached forward to cling onto his shoulders as you brought him in a close embrace. The only thing that mattered to you was the man above you and the love overflowing between you. The only thing that mattered to Ikaris was the feeling of you under him and knowing this wasn’t a dream.

The rest of the world disappeared, and the noise from the festivities of the City of Lights became white noise. The only sounds you could register in your lust-hazy mind were Ikaris’ hoarse groans and hushed gasps. The only sounds Ikaris could hear while in his bliss-intoxicated state were your breathless whimpers and sharp cries.

The two of you looked less like the gods humanity regaled in myths and legends and more akin to wild beasts. The sight of your legs tightly wrapped around Ikaris’ waist and the vulgar rings of the slapping of skin from him pounding into you was sinful. The feel of your full and soft breasts rubbing against his hard pecs only heightened the pleasure.

The familiar coil in your stomach returned, and its intensity was reaching a point of almost unbearable pleasure. All you could do was continue to cling to your lover with your nails dragging down his back as he continued to slam into you. Ikaris cursed under his breath at the feeling of your nails scraping long red marks on the skin of his back. He felt your walls start to tighten to show that you were reaching your peak. He increased his tempo to a relentless pace as he felt your walls continue to grip him.

With his newfound vigor, you became all the more aware of how he dragged each and every inch of his cock in and out of you. Your cunt wept at the way his new pace made you stretch even wider to accommodate for all of him. His rough patch of curls around the base of his cock hitting your swollen clit made your mind go blank.

“Ikaris!” you wailed. “Slow – slow down! I think – I think I’m going to – oh, FUCK!”

“Let go, Sephia,” Ikaris grunted. “I want to feel your cunt gripping my cock. I want to feel your walls creaming around me as your womb begs for my cum to fill so much that it leaks.”

Refusing to part from you, he snaked his arm to the space between your legs to press your swollen clit. The pressure from his fingers pinching your nub broke the dam inside you as your juices sprayed and soaked Ikaris’ manhood and naval region. Your back arched, and your legs trembled while the rest of your body pathetically spasmed from the intensity of your release. Your vision went white, and your mind was filled with blissful static as drool dribbled out of your mouth, hanging open at the sheer shock from the release of pressure.

When you came around him, Ikaris gripped the sheets so hard that he heard a faint rip as he felt a mass of textiles clump in his hand. If the fluttering of your cunt was heavenly, then the feeling of your walls clenching so hard around him as you sprayed your essence around him was euphoria. Using both hands, he unhooked your legs around his waist and spread them wide apart until your feet dangled by his head. The new position allowed him to reach so deep in you that he felt the tip of his shaft hitting the entrance of your womb.

He chased the end of his release as you senselessly babbled – your mind was too far gone from your climax, and all you could do was take all of him until he was done himself. It was not long until he felt his body tense, and he thrust himself into you to the hilt and came with a thunderous shout that echoed with your loud cries. The shift of all his weight ramming into the warm and wet hole that greedily latched onto him brought you a new sensation so pleasurable that it rocked on the edge of pain. The spilling of his hot seed inside your womb made you further cling onto him as tears streamed down your cheeks – as if melding your bodies into one being.

Ikaris completely let go of all of his tensions as he lay on top of you – panting for air. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. For a few minutes, the two of you only wanted to bask in the feel of you together in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

Not wanting to crush you with his weight, Ikaris gently tried to pry himself off you. He thought it would be best to grab a wet rag to help clean you or at least give you some water, but you refused to let go.

“I like feeling you inside me,” you whispered, your voice was a bit hoarse from your screams and cries.

His voice sounded more gruff than usual as he chuckled. “You shouldn’t say such things unless you’re prepared for another round. And by the looks of it, I think you’ve had enough for one night – especially for your first time.”

Ikaris stroked your cheek as he smiled at the sight of you. Your hair was tousled, and your skin was flushed to a lovely hue. There was not a patch of your neck that was not completely littered with red splotches from his bites and kisses. Your eyes were wet from the tears that streamed down your cheeks, and there was a small trail of drool from your mouth.

You were the very image of erotic perfection – only to ever be seen by him.

“…Was it good?” he hesitantly asked. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…at peace,” you replied after a few moments of thinking. “I don’t really feel any different from before. I certainly wouldn’t object to doing it again. But I just feel…content- and happy. Does that make sense?”

You felt your love’s feather-soft lips press against your hairline. “Yes, it does. But are you sure you don’t want to clean yourself? I know your thighs will feel…sticky in the morning if we don’t wipe it off.”

You shook your head. “No, I just want you here with me.”

“At least let me get you a glass of water,” he reasoned. “Believe me when I say you’ll be grateful for it in the morning.”

“Fine,” you relented with a pout. “Hurry back.”

He lowly chuckled as he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on your temple.

When Ikaris returned with your water, he found you bundled under a cocoon of the bed’s sheets and covers. Shaking his head in amusement, he placed the glass on the nightstand on your side of the mattress. He carefully lifted the covers, not to wake you from your well-deserved slumber, and crawled under them before gently shifting your body in his arms.

As Ikaris closed his eyes and felt the beckoning lull of slumber reach him, he swore he could hear the tune of a trumpet blowing as a rich timber voice sang a familiar song that held a special place in his heart.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

With a peaceful smile on his face, Ikaris dreamt of a dear memory. It happened in Paris only over seventy years ago. He recalls the day he first heard the phrase ‘rose-colored glasses’ as if it were only yesterday. Unbeknownst to him, you were playing the same memory in your sleep.

Paris in February 1948 was a less-than-ideal time. The weather was dismal, and the air was filled with smog and cigarette smoke. The snow surrounding him more resembled ash blown from a forest fire than frozen ice particles falling from the heavens. People were still hurting from the losses they suffered in the war. The industry was ruined, food was severely rationed, and housing was in short supply. The once luminescent City of Lights and her people were living in misery.

But Ikaris’ longing to see you was greater than his misery.

You had been visiting the graves of soldiers and victims across France every February since the signing of the Paris Peace Treaties in 1947. While there were thousands of unmarked graves, you knew the names of each fallen soldier and nameless body. The Earth whispered each person's tale as their blood spilled to the ground. You would breathe their name to a single red poppy before laying the bloom on the ground. It was too little while also being too late, but you wanted to show your thanks.

Your heart ached at the thought of anyone crossing over without someone remembering them. You walked these hallowed grounds because these brave men and women had fought for that privilege. You walked to honor and thank them.

It was what Kaety and Phastos would have wanted. It was what James would have wanted.

Feeling a sudden shift in the air, you did not need to look to know who had joined you.

“Hello, Ikaris,” you greeted your friend while still kneeling on the ground. “What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied. “Is that not what friends do?”

You bitterly laughed under your breath. You finally stood from the ground to face your old “friend.” It hurt to see how beautiful he remained despite how he impassively stared at you – as if you meant nothing to him.

“Are we still friends?” you asked. “After everything?”

If your questions hurt him, Ikaris had not let it be shown. But he at least had the decency to soften his tone and look down at his feet, slightly admonished.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he answered. He looked up to face you once more. “Sephia, I…I missed you.”

A new wave of tears threatened to spill as you scoffed at his words.

“Cruel man,” you inwardly wept. “Cruel, cruel man.”

“Forgive me for my reaction,” you scornfully replied. “But I find that a bit hard to believe, considering how we left things between us last time.”

The last time you had seen Ikaris was over fifty years ago when he visited you in the small open field outside Kaety and Druig’s commune. It was your usual meeting place for the past two centuries. It was close enough to the village that Kaety still felt your presence but far enough to ensure your meeting remained private.

The first time he came, you were so happy to see Ikaris. You were terrified at the idea of him forever hating you for joining Kaety and Druig in seclusion. He had criticized you for going against Arishmen’s orders. He told you it mattered little of what you and Kaety did – humanity was doomed to fail.

The last you heard from Kingo was that Ikaris had disappeared from Earth. No one had seen him since Ajak sent all of you away – not even Sersi or Sprite.

His reaching out to you over everyone else meant so much to you. Perhaps it was selfish, but it made you happy to know your talks and meetings with Ikaris were done without anyone’s knowledge. Not even Kaety knew of his presence. You two would talk about the world that was changing around them while reminiscing about the world that had passed.

With each talk, you felt your bond with your friend strengthen. With each meeting, your attachment to Ikaris became more profound as you often craved to see him just hours after he left. Your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer contain them. It felt like you had laid your entire heart on the line.

“Would you stay here?” you softly asked. “Would you stay here with me?”

And then he left, leaving you in the field by yourself.

“Did you hate the idea–” you hastily inhaled to stop your voice from breaking “– of staying here so much? Could you really have not found any joy in what I do here for those people?”

Ikaris reached out to hold you in his arms.

“No,” he whispered in your hair. “No, Flower, that’s not it. I swear… I swear that’s not it.”

He should not have come. If he were a better man, he would have let you hate him until you could forget him. But he knew you were alone, and his selfishness won out in the end.

“Then why?” you cried. His shirt muffled your words, but your voice broke his heart. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you come back? Every year, I waited in that field! Because I thought our friendship meant something to you! But you never came!”

“Sephia,” he explained, “I could have never been who you needed me to be for those villagers. I have nothing to offer them but my combat skills.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Everything you told me that night – you were right. It doesn’t matter what any of us do. Humans will destroy everything themselves. Just look where we are now.”

You and he looked at the thousands of white crosses that stood from the ground. You still had nightmares about the bodies surrounding you as hundreds of soldiers entered your tents – only to pass away from their fatal injuries. So many graves without names were men and women you treated before you had to bury them.

Kaety still woke up every night screaming at the horrors and abuse of the victims of Unit 731. What remained of the records of Ishii Shiro and his use of anthrax and the plague as biological warfare would haunt her for the rest of her life. Her thrashing had almost gotten to the point where she ordered Druig to sedate her if she ever accidentally hurt herself or him.

Phastos was practically left in a continuous catatonic state after leaving the site of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But during the times he came back, he could only weep out apologies to the millions of victims for his interference with humanity’s technology from the beginning.

“Was everything we thought we were building for nothing?” you asked. “Was this planet and its people doomed from the start?”

Ikaris only stood silently. He wondered if he was more cruel not to tell you the truth of Arishem’s grand plan after Ajak told him so long ago. But he wanted to see your smile for however long he had left. You were so proud of your creations, and rightfully so. Not knowing what else to do, he figured to let his actions speak more than his words.

“Can I show you something?”

He took you in his arms when you nodded. He lifted the two of you to a dark alley in Paris next to the Seine. The lights surrounding them with the people walking along the river bank made the night cold winter night less cold and desolate than the hopelessness you felt in your heart.

It was a pretty sight, but the view couldn’t have been the only reason why Ikaris brought you here.

“Look around you.” He spread his arms to emphasize his point. “What do you see?”

“…Litter and pollution?”

“Besides that.”

You tried to look harder. “Ummmm…people?”

“Exactly, people who are alive. A florist who sells flowers in the spring to young lovers because she wants to share the fruits of your labor with the world. Families who tour the Gardens of Versailles because they want to bask in the splendor.”

You understood Ikaris’ point. You were the one who tried to explain it all to him for so long, but everything seemed so hopeless now.

“Sephia,” he spoke your name to break you from your thoughts. “What you brought into this world was not for nothing. It never was. You are why people can find beauty and joy in the simplest pleasures.”

You wanted to say something – anything. But words failed to come to you. They always had during the most important events. Suddenly, you heard the melody of one of France’s favorite songs creep into your ear. You felt your Ikaris softly grasp your hand as he gently led the two of you to the direction of the melody.

It was a mixed jazz band playing in the middle of a packed Place Vendôme. They were playing La Vie En Rose.

The symphony of clarinets and flutes made for a beautiful melody. The saxophone altos, French horn, and trombone gave the song a homophonic texture. But the real star of the ensemble was the trumpet. It added a sense of joy and lightheartedness that so deeply contrasted the past decade.

“A favorite demon of yours told me this song was all the rage in France a few ago,” he quipped. “Care to show me why?”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need to stop calling Kaety that. She’ll bite your head off for being unable to think of a new nickname after seven thousand years.”

Ikaris took a few steps forward before turning to you and held out his hand. You only stared at it before realizing the meaning of his gesture. You stared at his face with wide eyes and a gaped mouth to represent your shock.

“You,” you choked out, “want to dance? In the middle of the square?”

Ikaris only shrugged. “Why not?”

“But…but, there’s just – there’s so many people around!” you stammered.

“That’s never stopped you before in Reykjanesskagi.”

“That was during the Maiden’s Day festival!”

“You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings with how long you’ve kept my arm like this.”

You huffed out a breath in annoyance before you reluctantly reciprocated the gesture. Ikaris must have known that you wouldn’t refuse a dance, especially a dance to one of your favorite songs. You hated bringing attention to yourself, but you loved to dance. You didn’t know what it was – but you could always lose yourself in the notes as your body moved in tandem with the tune. Whenever there was a festival or celebration in any city where the Eternals were stationed, you and Kaety would disguise yourselves as peasants or low-born nobility to fade into the background. So often, you would lose yourself in joy that you would accidentally make flowers bloom around you, even in the harshest winters.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Ikaris pulled you close to his chest. One hand was placed on the small of your back while one of your hands clutched on his shoulder. But the other was firmly clasped in his other hand. Before you began, you saw a few other pairs sway to the band. It eased your nerves to know that you and he were the only pair dancing in the historical square.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Everyone around you seemed to be dancing in slow, expressive, rhythmic steps, resembling an American-style bolero. Given the time and place, it was only natural that Ikaris took the lead. You were prepared to offer instructions, but he surprised you again by showing how comfortable he was in the role and steps.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you remarked.

Ikaris looked slightly embarrassed as his cheeks reddened. “Sersi taught me. She basically threatened to castrate me if I refused to dance at a speakeasy we frequented in New York in the 20s.”

“Sersi?” you snorted out as he spun and dipped you. “Sersi threatened you? Our Sersi? Lying is a very unbecoming quality, Ikaris. I didn’t think you’d be one to develop it.”

“Oh, if only I could make up such a tale,” replied Ikaris as he grabbed your waist before lifting you without struggle. “Sersi’s can be downright terrifying if she wants to be. Ask Kingo – he’s the only other person who’s seen her like that.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of your throat. And as the band continued to play, you and Ikaris swayed, dipped, and spun for hours. Over three hours had passed by the time the band was finished for the night. When you stopped, all you could do was stare into your friend’s eyes in a rose-hued haze before a thunderous round of applause broke you out of your dreamlike state and into reality. A sizable crowd had surrounded the two of you – hoots, hollers, and whistles accompanied the applause. Your impromptu performance enchanted men, women, children, and even pets.

“Bisou!” called out from a random face in the crowd. It wasn’t long before the call became a chant.

“Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou!”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, you cupped your Ikaris’ face and kissed his cheek softly. The following whistles and cheers would have made you wish to disappear – had it not been for the sweet peck Ikaris placed between the furrow of your brow.

All of a sudden- without even knowing it at the time- the world seemed brighter, and the air started to smell like roses.

Ikaris woke up to the feeling of gentle poking on his cheek. Hearing the swallows sing and feeling the warm sunlight on his skin, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace. He turned his body in your direction before opening his eyes. He was immediately blessed with your bright eyes and sweet smile. Raking his eyes down your body, it looked like you wore his dress shirt from last night.

He adored the way it draped over your curves – especially with how it showed off your legs.

“Are you ready for your Valentine’s Day present?” you asked with poorly contained excitement. Judging by how your smile went ear-to-ear, you practically bounced out of your skin.

Ikaris furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “Was last night not my present?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would sex be your present? I thought I made it pretty clear that I hadn’t expected the night to turn in that direction.”

“Well then,” he chucked in amusement over your flushed cheeks and pout, “what is my present?”

Your eyes shone in delight as you lightly kicked your feet against the mattress. “You’ll have to get out of bed for that! Come on!”

You dashed into the next room while Ikaris wrapped the sheets around him before locating his briefs and grabbing a pair of gray sweatpants in his luggage. Once putting them on, he stretched out his back and arms from behind the balcony window before opening it and letting in some air to freshen the room.

When he crossed to the piano room, he was mildly surprised when he saw you seated at the pianoforte. You pressed the keys to carefully listen if the instrument needed any additional tuning. Satisfied that the pitch wasn’t flat, you turned to Ikaris, who was leaning under the doorway.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.

You positioned your fingers over the right keys while straightening your posture. Clearing your throat, you began to play at Adagio. Your body swayed to the melody as if you had become one with the instrument. Every key you lovingly caressed let out a note sounding so beautifully as if the music came alive just for you. You closed your eyes before you began singing.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Ikaris’ eyes widened. Were you playing…had you –

But his thoughts were interrupted as your rich singing broke through his stupor. Your sweet voice was soaked in honey and laced with the roses from the song.

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause

For a moment, Ikaris truly hated that his French wasn’t as proficient as yours. Had it been, he would have been able to appreciate your singing that rivaled the voice of angels properly. Was it possible for one to sound as rich and effortlessly fluid as sweet syrup?

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens dans moi Mon cœur qui bat

Your fingers lightly danced along the keys to give your voice a brief intermission. And for a few moments, it felt like Ikaris’ soul had returned to his body. And although he expected you to stop, you began to sing the English translation.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Whereas the original French version required a slower and softer pace to grasp the ballad's meaning and beauty, the English version required a slightly quicker tempo. It brought a more joyful mood and tone compared to the lovely but melancholic French version.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

When you finished, Ikaris was once more completely and utterly entranced. You turned to face him with hopeful eyes. You long memorized this song since that night in Paris over seventy years ago. When you began to learn how to play the piano, you did it because you never wanted to forget the ballad’s meaning and how it touched your heart from that night on.

“You once asked me why this song was so popular,” you began to explain. “Édith Piaf wrote ‘La Vie en Rose’ in 1945 and released it as a single in 1947. The song’s popularity quickly reached global success as jazz artists began to sing its covers. Louis Armstrong played it on March 2, 1948 – at the same Jazz Festival you took me in Salle Pleyel.”

You stood up as you tenderly traced a single black key that released a soft C sharp when you pressed it.

“As you remember, all of Europe was in chaos and misery after the war. Everyone lost someone fighting. So many men and women who returned became shells of themselves. People were starving and homeless from the constant airstrikes. But Édith wrote this song to remind Paris to never lose sight of the happy times and good things in life. You shouldn’t forget the bad times, but you also shouldn’t forget to look at life without seeing the beauty of everything around you.”

You walked towards Ikaris before standing before him and wrapping your arms around him. You laid your cheek against his chest and smiled at his beating heart's steady and strong rhythm.

“That night- when we danced at the Place Verdôme- the song they played was stuck in my head for months. Whenever I felt sad or disheartened, I would put on the record I bought to listen to it. I know you have your doubts about humanity. You always had them, as had I. We were never the ones who loved humankind, especially after the atrocities they had committed. I hated what they did to the Earth, how much they polluted it, but – Oh, Ikaris. I made you cry again.”

Touching his cheek, Ikaris realized that he was indeed crying. That’s twice in less than twelve hours, a new record. Just what in Arishem’s name had you done to him?

He shook his head. “Never mind my tears. Continue.”

“Listening to that song, I finally realized why so many of our family kept faith in humankind. Kaety and Druig have their twins and remain in their village. Phastos and Ben have Jack. Sersi has loved and lost more than any of us, first with Jane, but now she’s with Dane. Kingo lives among them effortlessly and adores them. Even Makkari remains joyful because she keeps looking at life and seeing its beauty.”

You paused for a moment before standing only tip-toes to press a kiss on his nose.

“Ikaris, you don’t care much for humans. But that night, you reminded me why I did what I did in the war. You reminded me that there will always be people who will take comfort in the most simple pleasures- a rose’s bloom, the crisp bite of an apple, or even the sound of a child’s heartbeat. So, for just a few minutes, I wanted to give something to you the way you have for me.”

Words failed to convey the love Ikaris felt for you. All he could do was tightly hold you in his arms and never let go. For the first time since he came back, he felt it was alright to love you. That he wouldn’t pollute or ruin you the way he had done with everything else in his life so many times. Ikaris knew that it was his destiny to love you. But you- you chose him. You chose to love him. And that fact alone was enough to make him die without regrets.

“I hope children have your voice,” he murmured into your hair before facing you with wet eyes. “And I hope that they have your heart.”

He cupped your cheek, and you kissed his palm softly. “Only if they have your eyes and your art skills.”

Ikaris must have heard you sing your rendition of ‘La Vie en Rose’ a million times. You sang and taught it all your children— Laurie, Aggie, and Ari – on the piano or tucking to bed. But that first time he heard you sing it- that morning when the sun pooled into the room as pink roses and red asters suddenly bloomed- that will always be his favorite.

Thank you if you if finished the story! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and make sure to like, comment, and reblog!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @lexyysworld, @hypnoticmistake, @jolixtreesunn, @tess-love, @she-wintersoldat, @vikingqueen28, @lilacliquors, @beananacake, @tesha-i-guess, @littledoveofchaos, @atjsgf, @littlewitchoftheweast, @fireinmoonshot

Let me know if the comments if you want to be included in future Eternals posts!

#marvel eternals #ikaris smut #richard madden smut #eternals x reader #marvel x reader #ikaris x reader #druig imagine #ikaris imagine #ikaris x female reader #ikaris x eternal!reader #ikaris x oc #eternals fic #richard madden x reader #eternals au #eternals smut #demisexual!reader #demisexual eternal #lgbtqiia+

39 notes · View notes

literally-noone83 · 8 months

Text

More Than You Know

College!Henry Cavill × Fem!reader

About: The polarity of you and Cavill did not stop at your popularity status; when it came to affection, Cavill was always most comfortable in initiating it. However, you were not. Until one afternoon study session you find you were a little too touch starved to resist him.

Warning: Cussing and Kissing, nothing more. Mainly fluff. Not entirely proofread - literally got the author of moby dick wrong, welp.

Word count: Not that long.

Author's note: I DONT KNOW WHAT I WROTE. Honestly really like this one, especially the last bit. In the beginning I can't help myself but explain the background of their relationship - I realise I do that a lot and I feel like a lot of people just don't want that. But I thought this one was cute asf. Anyways, this also is probably most likely cringey so beware of my corny shit. Enjoy.

"You know I've never seen you this distracted when studying." Henry suddenly said. He glanced over to you, his lips curving into a smirk upon seeing your face become flushed with pink, quickly looking back at your text books.

He's caught you staring at him about a hundred times now.

It's supposed to be your traditional study session. In your dorm, you sat at your desk cluttered with notes and piling content he wouldn't even try to comprehend, and him laid on you'd bed comfortably studying Econ and business.

Henry was never really studious. It wasn't till he met you did he want to try. Who knew one banter with you in a library he'd once never catch himself dead in, about a book he'd only seen the movie of, meant meeting someone like you.

It wasn't hard to note how school orientated you were. You spent more time in the library than anyone on school campus. Volunteering to work there, shelving book after book, at the front desk scanning borrowed items or in between rows of mahogany shelves reading your favourite pieces for the third or fifth time. He thought you were a snob like most. Pretentious, an academic elitist, on your constant high horse. But the afternoon he had to finally sit down and read an overdue assignment of Herman Melville's Moby Dick, his grueling hardship to read one chapter amused you to no end. College's greatest macho man complaining this shit is so boring compared to the movie. The offence you took from such a comment he caught from a mile away. It was the moment he finally took notice and in annoyance he had to ask.

What, you disagree?

You shrugged. He hadn't known your name yet.

Yes, I actually do disagree, Cavil. But it's not like it matters to you.

Huh. But you knew his.

So you think this wad of crap is better than Hollywood blockbuster movie with Chris Hemsworth?

If you had half a brain and a attention span longer than child you'd see Hollywood doesn't do justice to Melville's writing.

... What's your name?

You scoffed and ignored his question.

You were definitely hard headed. You snubbed most of his questions about the book until his inquiries slowly turned on you. You always found a way to evade them. The times you took mercy and helped him in understanding literature were caveats of your walls coming down. Banter turned into teasing. The moment he heard you laugh — and quickly apologised for — his heart spurred with elation he didn't expect to feel. He wanted to hear you that sweet and smile so unabashed. Coincidental study sessions and run-ins with each other turned into late night walks he offered to your place, and hangouts in other bookshops and markets.

The polarity between the two was clichae to say the least but Henry couldn't care less. You become someone he liked to talk to, speaking in ways he hadn't before. And you were someone he loved to listen to. You were nothing like he expected, and he was a far cry from your own expectations. Reputations that proceeded you two crumbled in each other's presence.

In the end the biggest irony was that he couldn't finish Moby Dick for the life of him — you ended up spending hours talking to his about in library shifts — but he could read you so easily.

"I'm not, I'm not distracted." You denied, scribbling some words that wasn't relevant to your Lit course. You heard him chuckle.

"You're also awful at lying," you glanced to your right. He shifted onto his side to face you, taking a break from glossing over his assigned textbook.

"Whats wrong, babe?" He asked seriously, yet his voice still gentle. "You've been staring at me all of a sudden, something is clearly wrong."

"Nothing is wrong," you affirmed.

"Then why were you burning a hole in the side of mu head?"

"I was'nt!"

"So you werent looking at me?"

"Is it such a crime to stare?"

"So you do admit it!" He jutted a finger at you.

You groaned, "Oh hush, you're my boyfriend. Yes, I stare at you."

His heart clenched at your words. He loved it when you claim him as yours. A reminder that I'm yours, made him feel wanted. And in this case, it egged him on to tease.

"Baby, I think you want to do more than stare." You could smell his smirk, you refused to look at him. He watches you crane your neck further into you books, to hide the blush that dusted your complexion. If there something more he loved to hear you say he's your boyfriend was making you flustered.

"You are so lewd." You mumbled.

"So that's a yes." He teased.

"Wh- no!"

"No? you don't want to touch me." He feigned offence.

"I- I never said that!"

"You rather stare at me."

"I'm not saying that-"

"Then what are you saying, darling? C'mon tell me."

Your moment of silence makes him smirk self satisfied. "Aww baby, don't be shy. You are my girlfriend after all."

You finally looked at him. His stupid lopsided smile that made your chest pulse, and stupid sly glint in his eyes, knowing his effect on you. You saw his lips move. So pink and full. You heard the hum of his voice, the playfulness laced through it, and you saw his lips continue to move in speech but you didn't comprehend anything that came out. Maybe you were distracted.

He took your silence as annoyance, he shuffled closer to the edge on his elbows to reach out to you.

"C'mon babe," a laughed sprinkled in his words. "I'm sorry, I'll quit teasing and I'll leave you to your studying. I swear it." He looked up at you. Your gaze was on him but somehow so far from the now. He stretched out his hand to place it on your thigh to bring you back, "Just after you tell me what is going on inside that big brain of your-" The moment he touched you, your hand suddenly grabbed his stong jaw, tilting his head up to you. You leant down and connected your lips to his.

The force of your lips stunned him. You swallowed his words and he couldn't been more pleasantly surprised. It wasn't often that you were so assertive outside the realm of verbal debates and banter. For the longest time you were rather shy when it came to physical affection; the way you stuttered slightly behind a cough when he'd snake his hand down your arm and intwine with your fingers, or never push for more when you kissed. He knew this, and so he was always gentle and you let him lead every time. But this. This was different. His lips were still, at first almost just registering your lips on his. Feeling you press into him further, his hand around your wrist loosened and his eyes fluttered shut relishing at this change.

It was intoxicating. The felt of his lips, the way his bottom lip fit so perfectly between yours. Soft, tender, you had half a mind not to bite into it. You pulled back only millimetres before drawing into for another, a rhythm you were setting he was gladly falling into. All stress and tension dissipated from you, entranced by him, the feeling of him. You want him and you have him, you remind yourself.

Henry was undeniably annoying as fuck. He teased you and never backed down from a banter. He talk to you about anything, so unfiltered you became around him was frightening before. Yet now you find comfort in it; the way he listens and some how picks up on ques from you without saying anything. He was gentle, and understood even when he couldn't possibly; he always tried. He didn't yell or was aggressive as most assume. He plays tough, and has been since you've known him, but he's so soft, he's a sap for romance and a nerd for fantasy. He's genuine, and he's thoughtful. You loved him.

The fact overwhelmed you, and your languid kisses began to pick up. You couldnt get enough of him. Suddenly you were pecking him on the lips. The change in pace, humoured Henry, funny to note you had no time for patience when you dominated. You now held the sides of his face, you felt his lips curl and you kissed the corners of his smile. He was so irresistible it made your heart ache and stomach flutter. As your kisses travelled to his cheeks, to his nose and even eye lids, a chuckled escaped his lips, your touch so feathery it tickled. Until you reached his forehead.

You kissed one last time in the centre between his temples. You held it for a second longer to let him know this was out of affection and infatuation, settling for the spur of physical aggression. An affliction he enjoyed.

You felt him fingers softly caress the back of your hand that cradled his left cheek. Back to earth, you rested the crown of your forehead against his own, too embarrassed to see your flushed complexion as if he hasn't already seen it about a thousand times. Regardless his eyes were on you, closely watching the way your lips parted to release a semi-labored breath and your evasive gaze half-lidded. He couldn't help it either, his cheeks burned at this new affection. It excited him. He wondered if you could feel it under the pads of your finger tips.

"You are actually annoying me." You breathily said and a laugh erupted from his lungs. His breath tickled your face and you couldn't help but join him.

"And you're distracting me." You continued with a smile you couldn't suppress.

"Oh yea?" He swayed you against him.

"Yea, so I think I do need you to leave." You didn't mean it in the slightest.

"After that? I don't think I'll ever leave your side, baby." His voice grew soft, turning his playful comment into something sincere. Soft chuckles slipped your lips, and gently he pulled back. He needed to see your face.

Your hand left his face as you let up some space—just a little—in between you and your lover, rather letting them glide past his side of his neck, dip in the crook of his neck and slide to his chest. One of his hands followed. He warmed your palms and his hand pressed it against him to make sure you rested there.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I don't- I don't usually do that, I just..."

You felt his thumb career your knee and his soft lips peck your cheek, nudging you to look at him. You hadn't realised you were still avoiding his gaze until you met his light eyes.

He leaned in and kissed your other cheek in routine. "Don't do that," his looked at you and you saw his eyes dance between your eyes, "Don't apologise."

You exhaled through your nose, nodding. "I just wanted to kiss you"

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"Shut up" Leaning back instinctively out of embarrassment, he kept you close to him.

"But really, sorry I was so..."

"So assertive?" He raised his brows and you nodded, "Well, I actually quite liked it." He admitted.

"Really?" You asked.

"Yea," he had a soft smile. Not teasing or mischief, just sincere and elated.

"Really really?" You leaned in close, a smile breaking out against your will as you leaned in close.

"Yea," he whispered, his eyes dropped to your lips, as did you yours. You kissed him.

"Well I could practice..." you mumbled against his lips, pressing his hands against his chest to push him slowly back, "to be more assertive."

He followed your lead, smirking at your words. "I would..." He spoke between every kiss, "... love... that..."

"Yea?"

"Fuck yea..." His heart preened at your giggle.

"More... than you... know, baby"

#henry cavill #fanfic #comfort fic #touch starved #idfk how to tag this #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill hellraiser #mike hellraiser #not him but yknow #I envisioned that image of henry

27 notes · View notes

ferris-the-wheel · 6 months

Text

How these TWST characters would act like in a library + their favorite book genre.

Author's note: This was kind of a shit post. Also this was definitely not proofread so ignore any mistakes please.

TW: None

He'd make sure to ask the librarian what all the rules are so that he doesn't accidentally break one.

You already know that he knows exactly how to search for books and has memorized the organization style of the library.

He would find a secluded area to read. He expects everyone else in the library to follow the rules as well.

He'd totally just walk up to someone who's breaking a rule and tell them off (quietly). He'd intimidate the person so much they probably won't come back to the library. 😅

He's definitely a non-fiction reader the majority of the time, though he may dabble in fictional books if they're recommended to him.

He isn't the type to go into libraries, but when he does, he's... okay. He knows the basic rules but sometimes forgets them.

He would need a bit of help searching for books since he doesn't generally go to libraries and hasn't bothered to memorize the way the books are sorted.

He isn't much of a reader, but he prefers fictional books when he does. He likes to imagine himself as the protagonist of the books and pretending he's in that world.

He would totally check out a library book and forget it existed. It'd be like two weeks overdue and just sitting in his room somewhere. He would only remember when he starts getting emails/phone calls reminding him to renew or return his book.

The librarian does not like him much. Not because of his personality, he's just so loud. He'd be given constant reminders to be quieter, which he would try to do, but his volume would always get louder after a little while.

He would prefer fictional books because, like Ruggie, he would love to explore the fictional worlds of the books. He would want to taste all the foods and go to all the cool places.

The only reason his books wouldn't be overdue is because Jamil would either remind him constantly to turn his books in or Jamil would just check with Kalim which books he's not done reading yet and return the ones he'd finished (renewing the ones he hadn't yet).

He likes libraries because of all the things he could read about there. If he feels like reading about one topic, there's a whole dedicated to it. If he decides to read about another topic, there are plenty of books on that too.

This guy loves going to libraries. It's a quiet place for him to just relax and read. He's likely been in enough libraries throughout his life to know the rules.

I don't think he'd have a set genre he likes to read. I think that since he's already lived for a long time, he'd already know a lot of what history books are talking about since he practically lived through those events. So he'd like reading fictional books so that he could imagine what life in those books are like.

On the other hand, I think he'd like reading nonfiction books because he could read about the histories of other places he's not as familiar with, such as their cultures, traditions, native animals, and other things like that.

He'd be so immersed in the books that he was reading that he'd forget he had to return them to the library. Then he would forget to go to the library, but Lilia would make sure to return them before they became overdue.

TWST characters in a library? I know, totally random. It's just something that popped into my brain a while ago and has taken *checks calendar* 4 days to make due to lack of motivation.

Btw, this is just my opinion of how they would act in a library.

I love how the almost finished product had been siting in my drafts for 2 days until I decided to finish it 🤣

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland

12 notes · View notes

these-are-the-first-steps · 3 months

Text

THE PATREON IS MAKING A COMEBACK!

Hi guys,

Thanks to being unemployed due to strike action for nearly an entire calendar year (RIP tv and movies this year, js), I feel the fire under my ass to 1. try and make some sort of money to feed myself and pay my rent until work trickles back, and 2. finish a long-overdue story.

Patreon isn't really made for authors. Full stop. We cannot offer our supporters merch or handmade goods or some other sort of trinket- for that we would need another kind of creator's help which we often are not lucky enough to have.

So I wanted to ask you guys, besides advanced chapters and behind-the-scenes draft notes, what other things would you guys like to have as perks? Even if you don't want to or cannot support something like my or another author's patreon, I still welcome everyone's thoughts because tbh my brain has kind of atrophied from the existential unemployment dread looool.

Thank you and please let me know! This is something I want to work on today and tomorrow and get rolling so we can finally reach the end of "PREY" and perhaps any other short stories of mine you guys particularly liked.

I would like to end this post with a heartfelt shout-out to those guys on reddit who said such kind things about "PREY". Truly, it warms the hollow cockles of my mostly dead heart to see that even reddit can talk about my work. "PREY" is the biggest thing I've ever written to date, and I really want to see it through to the end. With y'all's help hopefully, let's make it happen!! <3

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #fund the author

7 notes · View notes

tired-reader-writer · 11 months

Note

For the character ask game: Hilmes numbers 12, 16, 23 and 24 if you feel like it, plus anything else you wanna talk about for him?

The character ask game is here, if anyone else wants to participate!

12. Sexuality hc!

Personally see him as a disaster bi that, once he falls for someone, falls hopelessly. If it weren't for his trauma and entire situation he might have a better chance of expressing it, lol.

16. A childhood headcanon

I headcanon that he was just beginning to pick up learning an instrument before the fire, he was... more creatively inclined back then than he is right now, his rage has drained him of anything to spare for art and creativity. And I also headcanon that he might've planned to pick up an instrument for his mother, though I am not sure of the timeline. She might've passed away sooner than I think.

23. Future headcanon

Pushing canon aside far, far away, I have two paths in front of me: speculative headcanon set in canonverse, or I could answer for Wolfpack.

Screw it, how bout I answer both? :D

For the canon-adjacent-but-still-divergent category, we have a Hilmes who surprise! Did not push Zandeh away and instead confides in him about the truth of his lineage, and of course Zandeh is unbothered by this. He is loyal to Hilmes and always will be. Irina doesn't mind either, he is Hilmes, he is the man she loves, and that's what matters. Through a series of events I have yet to parse out, probably includes raising an army via Irina's claim (news must've reached Maryam that Irina tried to assassinate Innocentis and damn well near succeeded, and she is the last of their royal blood), gaining allies, and things actually going kinda well bc he's not shackled by an alliance to the Lusitanians, getting rid of fucking Bodin, and taking over Maryam and ruling there. Sorry Guiscard, you should go back to Lusitania. I wanted to give Hilmes a chance for a do-over, this time not for his own ambitions but for Irina, her family, justice for her, a way of atoning for what he indirectly caused. And I'd like to think he's gone through some growth so as to become an actually decent ruler who will keep growing. Could I also see them living a quiet life away from all that nonsense? Yes! But I'm also fond of this idea for inexplicable reasons. I like the idea of him dedicating his devotion to his beloved (who knows, maybe it ends up in a poly relationship), setting things right, and actually giving the Maryami some damned peace bc I can't imagine living under Bodin's reign being easy.

As for Wolfpack, he ends up Shah of Pars, he doesn't have his coronation right away, opting to fix the immediate problem of Ecbatana's food and water shortage, though he has to have a coronation sooner or later bc he does kinda need it to solidify his authority. But it's a means to an end rather than the end itself, he recognizes that there's so much to do, that things just don't end with him getting the throne. So he works. And while under any other circumstance this would be out-of-character for Hilmes, in this AU he does eventually end up believing in the abolition of slavery for a couple of reasons: firstly it was always meant to happen, if only Kaykhusraw hadn't betrayed the clan it would've happened three hundred years ago, this was long overdue— secondly he is constantly influenced by Arslan who he claimed as a retainer. Arslan knows how to temper him, and Irina... oh Irina, she's a gentle soul, and during her stay in Gorgan let's just say she got influenced too— and she in turn would influence Hilmes.

After his coronation, after things settle a little (suppressing rebellions from pretenders and all that) he visits the haunted Temple once again, this time to hold a ceremony to appease the spirits, to apologize, to put them to rest. And who knows, maybe he catches a glimpse of a silver-haired boy with eyes the same colour as his, snow-white glows on his skin, laughing as he fades away.

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

This is hard to answer bc he's already practically drowning in secrets in canon, LOL. I would just think of an answer and go, “wait that's an actual thing he kept secret in canon, fuck” so uh you're probably gonna get something outlandish and stupid for it, like that he actually knew jack shit about carving and whatnot, he just learnt it in a rush, practically speedran it just so he could show off to Irina, LMAOOOOOO

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #wolfpack au #winds of wolfsong #hilmes #ask game #thank you for this!

16 notes · View notes

akuma-tenshi · 3 days

Text

Long-overdue intro post

No fancy formatting or anything, let's just fuckin' go. I'll update it later.

Hi!! I'm Casey. Or Akuma, either works (though i usually prefer Akuma if we're not close). I use they / them pronouns but am alright with.. pretty much any gendered terms. I'm neurodivergent but not a minor.

Pretty much the only fandom I post about nowadays is Identity V because of the absolute GRIP it's had on me for going on four years now, but End Roll also makes appearances every now and again w/ other fandoms.

DNI's are pretty standards. TERFs, SWERFs, proship, all that. The one hard line I draw with specific ships is Adamil; it's not personal, the ship just makes me viscerally uncomfortable and i don't want it anywhere near me.

As for characters I like: IDV — I have a lot. However, the biggest ones for me are Demi, Emily, Annie, Norton, Luchino, Frederick, Ganji, Emil, Lily, Matthias, Florian, Patricia, Ithaqua, Grace, and Joseph. I'm very fond of most of the cast with few exceptions, but these are just the ones I'm especially ill about. End Roll — Tabasa McNeil save me Tabasa McNeil,, the entire cast is great but Tabasa just Hits Different man Your Turn to Die — Sara, Reko, Kurumada (my friend's fault), Kai, and Anzu are all very special to me Genshin Impact — I've long since left the fandom and the game behind and have no desire to return, but there are a couple characters I hold very dear to my heart. Those ones are Gorou, Cyno, Collei, Freminet, Baizhu, Xinyan, and Bennett. Tighnari too but I'm slightly less insane about him. Bloodborne — Micolash, Maria, Father Gascoigne, and Eileen. I don't have much to say because I don't talk about them much, but rest assured I am incredibly mentally ill over them. Other characters I really love that stand out from their fandoms are Quentin Smith (ANoES 2010 / Dead By Daylight), YOHIOloid & KAITO (Vocaloid), Solaria (SynthV), Jujube & Ama Ryllis (Mandrake Boys), Falken (Dislyte), and Kelthur Marwen & Desira (AFK Arena). These are all characters from fandoms / media I don't interact with much anymore, but they still live rent-free in my head.

Other things I like are cats, thunderstorms, Cake Bake Betty's music, and pastries. I have quite a few characters I headcanon as agender / non-binary and who I will always use they / them pronouns for, but I couldn't care less if you use their canon pronouns around me. I'm an aspiring author with way too many OC's, though I don't really do any OC posting here because my blog is mainly meant to be a fandom-centric space.

Sideblogs: @pmakuma — IDV match clips @true-pr00f — Fanfiction sideblog @sunsetandshadows — Side project I'm working on with @sunset-of-the-void centering around two of our OC's

You can also find me on Twitter at _akumatensh1_ and AO3 at True_Pr00f.

#pinned post #intro post #rambling

3 notes · View notes

generalluxun · 11 months

Text

Fanfiction: Dates, Places, People, and Things

Author's note: Lukabrina! Julerose! Myvan! (Chlogami?-ish? the start of some frenemies?) It's been a hot minute since I did one for them and they are long overdue! This is technically a sequel to my fic 'The Helpers' which saw them getting together. It's a fluffy bit of fluff about visit to the liberty for one of Kitty Section's practices.

This is part 1 of 3. The story is also being posted on my AO3(link in bio) Full text of part 1 below the cut.

Sabrina: We're almost there. 😱😬 I'm doing my best, but this is scary, senpai! 😨💀

Luka: Don't worry. I've talked with the band. People know she's coming, they're ready.

Sabrina: I will need a huuuugggg after this. 😟😫

Luka: You can have one. You can have one as soon as it starts too, and at any point I'm not playing.

Sabrina wiggled in her seat, then tapped her phone against her lips as she thought up a reply. Her pondering was interrupted by the limo's other passenger.

"Ugh, you're texting him, aren't you?”

Sabrina winced but then straightened up and nodded, turning her head to look at Chloé in the eyes like she was supposed to. “Yeah, I am. Is that okay?”

Chloé’s lip curled into a sneer, her right hand came up, fingers flexed for a dismissive flick.

Then it all changed. Sabrina held her breath as she saw it happen. Chloé’s eyes tracked to her own hand, then her head turned as if seeing it for the first time. Surprise, frustration, then a brief flare of anger passed over her features before she deliberately put her hand down.

“Well, I suppose so, Sabrina. After all, he should know we are coming. He had better look his best! After all, I can’t have just anyone dating my assistant. Really, Sabrina, the things you get up to when I am-” Chloé clenched her jaw, suddenly looking away. “-Uhh, indisposed.”

Sabrina bit her bottom lip, suppressing a squee. Chloé’s features clouded and Sabrina tried harder, turning her head to hide her excitement. “Well, I had to keep busy somehow right? I mean before you got your… agent… things were so hectic.”

Sabrina tried to mimic one of Chloé’s lazy little stretches, to show how utterly mundane and trivial it was all supposed to be. It seemed to work. The clouds parted and Chloé sat properly in her seat again, though she did cross her arms. “It was my agent that told me this little outing of yours would be a good idea. I reserve the right to bail at any time if people are too lame though!”

Sabrina nodded enthusiastically. She had too much energy, she kept wanting to lift her phone to sent a text, but she needed to be here, but- oh when would they-

The limo rolled to a stop.

----------------------------------

“Y’r bouncin’” Juleka’s soft murmur still took Luka by surprise. He snapped out of reminiscing about a gentle zephyr of notes, and realized he’d been tapping them on the ship’s railing as he waited.

He scanned the street again. “Well, I think I’m not the only one today.” He reached down and lightly flicked a series of little charms hanging from his sister’s wrist.

Juleka brought the collection of keepsakes up to her chest, covering them with her other hand. A single ceramic unicorn bangle peeked out between her fingers. “Diffr’nt reasons. S’weird.”

Luka nodded. “I do share some of your apprehension at the VIP coming, though. It’s like a difficult new song. There’s bound to be stumbling and frustration along the way. If all else fails, just remember, there are many more of us than her here.”

Juleka fingered the charms, one after the other. One, three, five, two, four, six, seven, eight, then repeat the whole process. Luka watched the cycle repeat three times, before covering her hand with his own.

“Jules, do you want me to call it off?”

His sister looked down, but raised her uncovered eye back to him, resolve blooming. “No.”

Luka let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. It’s been nearly a week since I've seen Sabrina, you know.”

Juleka rolled her eye. The hands that had been fidgeting moved up to cover her lips. “Y’ gotit so ba-ad.”

Luka puffed up and squinted at her. “Excuse me?” He flicked her little unicorn charm. “Who is talking?”

Juleka covered the charm, her pale cheeks pinking. She glanced over to where the two-footed unicorn in question was getting her face-paint touched up by Mylène. “‘Kay, shut up.” Juleka nudged his foot with hers.

Luka laughed softly. “Three pairs now, that’s a full chord. I think today will be fine. Let me share something vague, because I know how well you keep secrets too, sister mine. Your own particular worry is invested in today going well too. Try to remember that, if anything goes off the rails.”

Juleka nodded, then looked past him. “Tme’s up.”

Luka turned back to the street above. The limo that stopped wasn’t his father’s, and that narrowed down the list of options. The nearside door opened and Luka just caught sight of the ginger hair over the street-side railing. He tracked Sabrina as she darted back to the stairs that lead down to the river, a warmth blossoming in his chest. She took them three at a time, her jaw set in determination to avoid a fall. She hit the lower level at a bounce, and her dash became a sprint. Luka’s smile grew uncontrollably.

Beside him, Juleka’s soft, “L’kout.” was appreciated.

Sabrina pivoted at the last second, arms flailing to make the sharp turn, and instead of taking the second set of steps down to the boat proper, she dove.

Luka braced and caught, spinning Sabrina once, twice, three times, to bleed off momentum. He pulled her into a fierce hug, and she buried herself against his chest. Luka breathed in; nutmeg and paper. He opened his senses, and the melody whispered around them. Their melody.

From his chest a muffled, ”Missed you.”

Luka spoke against her hair. “Missed you too.”

From the streetside, a pronounced cleared throat caused Sabrina to squirm free from his arms quickly. Luka tried not to resent the owner of that throat.

Sabrina brushed her hair back and straightened her sweater vest. “Sorry. Luka, this is my friend Chloé Bourgeois, the ah- daughter of the Mayor of Paris and Style Q-”

“-that’s quite enough, Sabrina.” Chloé flicked her nails at Sabrina and stepped down to the ship’s deck. Luka read her body language like sheet music. Dominant, but… not domineering. Bravado stretched like a drum head over uncertainty. This is workable.

Luka stepped up and offered out his hand, “Luka Couffaine. I don’t know how much Sabrina has told you about me. Welcome to the Liberty.”

The blonde swept her gaze along the ship. “It’s not a garbage scow, I guess.” Her eyes ran back over him, dissecting. “And you’re not bad yourself, though your clothing is atr- a- a choice. Not one that I would make, but then, I’m not you, am I?”

She finished with a laugh that aped humor dripping in condescension, but Luka’s ear could pick out the forced diaphragm and constricted chest. Performative, insecure. It drew attention though. Luka felt four pairs of eyes at his back, and Chloé’s own gaze swept off him and over his shoulder. The tension in those deep blue depths rose, like the ocean before a storm.

Luka sidestepped, cutting off the line of sight both front and back, reducing the world to the trio for the moment. He gestured along the length of the boat. “Perhaps Sabrina might show you around while we set up for today’s practice? It’s nothing fancy, but we plan on going out for dinner as a group later. You’re welcome to come.”

Luka glanced at Sabrina as he spoke, shifting the attention. The spark in those aqua eyes was a mixture of awe and gratitude. Luka's arms itched for another hug.

Chloé followed his gaze, went through a visible conflict of emotion, then snapped. "I couldn't possibly-"

"-what a shame." A new voice cut in. Kagami stepped down to the boat and inserted herself into the middle of the trio. Swish-swish, her bob bounced as she turned her head and took in the deck. "I do not see Adrien, nor Marinette."

Two bulls, one china shop. Luka called over his shoulder. "Rose, any word on our final pair?"

Instead of shouting, Juleka's pink pixie partner trotted over to the quartet. She was all smiles, slightly undercut by the glam-rock unicorn mask perched jauntily atop her head and the black face paint along her jawline like a faux-beard.

She knotted her fingers together as she spoke. "Marinette said she probably won't make it-"

"-oh no, what a shame-" from Chloé.

Rose kept right on going. "-she said she dropped a bag of flour, then stumbled into a mixing bowl of milk. Now there's crumpet batter everywhere and she has to stay and clean it up."

That explanation brought a snicker, a chortle, a gasp, and a sigh from the assembled group.

Rose held up one finger. "As for Adrien, he said his father unexpectedly scheduled him for underwater Mandarin lessons today. He might make it later, but it's unlikely. He said he was sorry."

Chloé spoke first from behind Kagami. "Looks like you don't have any reason to be here, Tsurugi."

Kagami spun in place, jaw set and feet braced. "You are here?"

Chloé scoffed, "Of course I am." She reached over and pulled Sabrina to her. "My Sabrina is dating the guitarist. I have to be sure this band is up to snuff."

Sabrina squeaked. Luka was trying to figure out how to handle this rapidly devolving situation when Kagami cut back, "These people are my friends. If you are present, then my purpose here is clear."

She grabbed Chloé's hand and stalked off with the other girl, towards the opposite end of the boat.

Chloé stumbled after her, wailing, "Wait-what- what are you doing?"

"Keeping you out of trouble."

The remaining three watched them go. Sabrina stepped in closer to Luka again. "Are they gonna be okay?"

Luka hummed, "It's an unexpected change of key, but sometimes that is exactly what is required."

He slipped his arm around Sabrina's waist and she snuggled back in. He would never get tired of how simply natural it felt to hold her. From the contact their melody drifted up into his mind once more.

Rose's quiet squee brought things back into focus.

Luka turned with Sabrina in the sweep of his arm. "We've got a playmate for you today."

She peeked up at him, but almost immediately nestled her head back in as they walked, "What did you break this time?"

Luka feigned a stagger, "Why do you think it was me? I'm hurt, shocked and hurt."

Nimble little fingers poked his ribs where no one else could see. His stagger turned into a squirm. Luka fought to escape the attack without letting her out of his side-embrace. "Okay, okay I give! But honestly, I don't know what happened."

They stopped in front of a half-stack pulled away from the rest. Mylène was seated nearby, piles of envelopes and papers around her. Sabrina slipped Luka's arm and approached the defunct speaker. She ran a hand along the back, fingertips already picking out the screws. "It's old Senpai, like you."

Her cheeky little grin was a rare thing. Luka raised an eyebrow. "You're in a mood."

Sabrina shook out her hands. "Too much ener-G!" She looked toward the rear of the boat.

Luka leaned in, bumping noses. "You could always come up on stage with us."

Sabrina dropped like a rock onto the bench beside Mylène. She covered her head with her arms, peeking up again. "I'll be good. I'll be quiet. Just leave me tools, and go play."

Luka gave her a playfully evil laugh. He kissed his fingertips then slipped them past her guard to touch her cheek. "Yes, dear."

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #my fic #Sabrina raincomprix #Luka couffaine #Lukabrina #Julerose #Myvan #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #mylene haprele #ivan bruel #chloe bourgeois #kagami tsurugi #fluff #just fluff #so fluffy #sequel

15 notes · View notes

gwilin-stay-winnin · 10 months

Text

Gwilin of the Day: "Gleaming" Gwilin

Today's Gwilin of the day is brought to you by: LadyTanithia on ao3!

Dalliances with Dunmer [Chapters 46 & 47]

Published: June 18, 2023

Rated: Mature

Length: ~12,500 words

Featuring: Fem. OC, Teldryn Sero, Temba, Wilhelm

Set in: Ivarstead

REVIEW

Gwilin's no Dunmer, but boy did he get dallied with!

If you know what went down between the author's OC, Miranja, and this Gwilin the last time I wrote about them here, you know I thought their reunion was long overdue. Miranja thought so, too, and the story begins with her seeking to rectify the situation–with her taking a little detour to visit Ivarstead's resident Sweet Bosmer Boy, whom she discovers is overjoyed to see her again. A little dawdling between them follows, even after Miranja admits to Gwilin that he's the main reason she traipsed into town. They part as Gwilin sets off to work, eager to see Miranja's words of promise materialize, and Miranja sets off to hang with her companion, Teldryn.

As they talk, Miranja fills Teldryn in on her history with this Gwilin, which isn't much, and confesses she's having second thoughts about bedding him. I found her reasoning for this (that he might become attached to her or the sex and feel despair in its absence) a bit presumptuous, and not at all mature, as Teldryn opines in the story. More than simply disagreeing with her reasoning, I think it doesn't make sense given the fact she and Gwilin hardly know each other; the bedrock of the logic behind her reluctance to sleep with him seems to simply be his inexperience. And though it's not completely out of left field to think someone who's never had sex before will miss it once they have, I crudely ask: why are they so sure Gwilin can't pull bitches? (Side note: I found the idea of Teldryn –or anyone, really– immediately being able to spot a virgin extremely funny, in a good way. Added to that is Miranja just assuming he doesn't have a girlfriend or anything. They really looked at Gwilin and said "TOTAL ingenue over here".)

A little later, Gwilin catches up with Miranja and she tells him she thinks it's best they don't sleep together, in a way that I found somewhat condescending. This Gwilin truly is a saint to not have reacted with at least a little indignation to her words. Instead, he watches-without-really-watching a beetle on the ground, a moment of pause which I loved, before giving a tempered response: he asks for but a kiss from her. She agrees. There's a little moment during the kiss where she notes the maddening scent of some essential oil he put on before meeting her, which was such a succinct way of illustrating Gwilin's character. It says he's a scamp not afraid to use his playful wiles.

Soon after comes his true response to what she said. It's one which I would've liked to have seen him express more readily, and with greater passion, earlier on. But passion often entails something more messy than the rather long and always level-headed responses the characters in this story tend to give each other.

That level-headedness left me hungry for some real conflict. The way this Gwilin assured Miranja he was certain he wanted to have sex with her was very straightforward, unoffended, and based on the absolute best-faith interpretation of everything she implied about him. Feelings are rarely this clean and tidy. If they are, it's because there's a ton of trust between the people sharing them, a trust Gwilin and Miranja simply don't have. I suppose that, narratively, the point of Miranja making the assumptions and externalizing them towards Gwilin as she did was so she could stand corrected later, thus appearing to have learned something. Insofar as this bit of "conflict", I was left confused and unconvinced.

However, there's a myriad of luscious little details about Gwilin peppered into this story that sculpted an irresistible likeness of his character. One such detail was that perfumery of his I mentioned earlier, another was his curious spying on Fastred and Bassianus' tryst in the woods, and another still was his kissing lessons with Lynly. All of these say much more about the kind of person he is than those paragraphs of his dialogue scattered throughout the story, which give the impression he's addressing the audience rather than Miranja. They paint a portrait of a man consumed with want, at once anxious and resolute to taste sex as one would taste wine for the first time, and who is ready to accept all the inquietude its drunken splendor might entail. That's a Gwilin one wants to know more about.

The audience is afforded a greater glimpse into this portrait of him as the story progresses. Miranja and Gwilin do end up sleeping together, and it goes well (perhaps a little too well, for being Gwilin's first time, but it doesn't feel too over-the-top). Again, this Gwilin's expressions, his gestures, and his candor are what really carry his characterization. At one point, he admits to Miranja –after dancing around the words for a minute– that he wants to come inside her. The admission comes after she asks him this directly, and he can only muster a cringey nod of his head in reply. It's so honest, endearing, and heartfelt, and it's just the perfect tinge of playful self-awareness to inflect his feelings in that moment.

Moment that my mind chose to fixate on: There were many. Gwilin's cringey nod was a highlight, as was his eyes flicking bashfully in Miranja's direction when he was getting ready to eat her out. Also, Teldryn saying he'd like to make Miranja late for her appointment with Gwilin was delicious.

But my absolute favorite moment, the one that threw my mind into a complete whirlwind, was when he kept himself from cumming. His effort to keep it all in was INSANELY hot. Type of shit that reminds me we are born of the flesh and die of the flesh and all that.

I. Compellingness

I must confess that I was hard-pressed to feel drawn to this Gwilin outside of the more sensuous tidbits surrounding him in the story. By which I mean, any compellingness of his was, for me, limited to what I extrapolated from those little details about his life that were mentioned in passing. This alone wouldn't have been a good enough reason to deduct points on this metric, but the dialogue of this Gwilin did not work in his character's favor. I elaborate on this below. 6/10

II. Swagger

This Gwilin could've used an extra push of assertiveness to really bump up his swag levels, which are decent regardless. For some reason the most swag thing I feel like he did was when he mimed the pregnant belly to let Miranja know he didn't want to get her pregnant. I think this is the first time I found a considerate gesture in a Gwilin fic to be more swag than charming. That alone deserves an extra point. 7/10

III. Talent

We have another Command Animal Gwilin! That description of him communing (?) with nature was one of my favorite visuals of all the Gwilin fics I've read thus far. The fox on his lap, the torch bugs dancing around him... he's in his element.

Morever, this is a real kissy Gwilin. Not a lot of Gwilin fics place special emphasis on his kissing abilities, as they should. 8/10

IV. Backstory

We are given only some slight gleams into this Gwilin's past, but, given the smutty focus of this fic, the lack of backstory is understandble. 5/10

V. Pleasure of Reading

[I had a lot of notes on this metric, and, for the sake of simplifying the process of condensing everything I wrote, I'm going to separate my observations here into the strengths and the weaknesses of the author's writing. This was not easy to do, since, as is usually the case, strengths and weaknesses are born of each other and love to intertwine.]

STRENGTHS

The big words the author occasionally uses | Some of them could’ve been incorporated more artfully, but in general I think their usage enriches this story. There is, I think, a woeful lack of big words in many works of fiction, and it’s not just about the words seeming fancy or fun to say. Sometimes weird, out-of-left-field words are the most accurate for what one wishes to convey, and the reader won't feel accosted by them if they're used sparingly.

Gestures and positioning | The author does a great job of describing the characters' body language and movements in relation to each other, both within and outside the sex scenes. I really enjoyed imagining the actions described in the order they were presented. It was usually easy to see the interactions between characters as they unfolded, speaking strictly in regards to physical sequencing.

WEAKNESSES

Withholding information | This story would be much improved if some more information about Miranja (as well as other characters') thoughts were withheld from the audience.

Writing tends to be much more compelling if the reader feels they are being given a puzzle to put together. If the puzzle is too complex, one loses interest; if it is too easy, one might feel like the pieces were already put together for you. This story leans more towards the latter. The author being just indirect enough to make the reader feel like they "figured out" an image or idea makes for a much funner reading experience.

If I may give an example, instead of

“Hello, Miss Miranja!” Gwilin greeted her enthusiastically.

what about...?

Gwilin’s brow jumped up as she came near. “Hello, Miss Miranja!”

or even...?

Gwilin’s brow cocked vibrantly. “Hello, Miss Miranja!”

Dialogue running long | What it says on the tin. The problem here lies in part with the structure of the longer stretches of dialogue and in part with their content.

Structure – “I” statements in dialogue can get old fast. Getting creative with “you” statements and sentence structure keeps things interesting.

If I may posit an example from the story again, instead of

“What brings you to town, Miss Miranja? And how long are you staying?” “I’ll be honest, Gwilin: you’re the one and only reason that brings me to town. I have no other business in Ivarstead. Although now that I think of it, it might be nice to go up and see Paarthurnax while I’m this close. I haven’t been up to see him since I came back from Sovngarde.”

how's about...?

“What brings you to town, Miss Miranja? And how long are you staying?” “Honestly, Gwilin? You’re what brings me to town. I have no other business here.” “Really?” [some action from the character to indicate whether this made him feel more flattered, pleasantly nervous, cocky, etc.] “Yes, though, now that I think of it, it might be nice to go up and see Paarthurnax. Haven’t done that since I came back from Sovngarde.”

Content – In order to subtly give the audience insight into the characters' thoughts, values, and beliefs, one must ask which says more about a person's character: what they say about themselves, or what they say to others (and how they choose to say it)?

Another example. What if Gwilin said not this:

“Wilhelm says the same thing almost every day. But I tell him Miss Temba is more bark than bite, and it really doesn’t bother me when she’s grouchy. I just look around me at the beautiful view I get to enjoy every day, and I breathe the fresh mountain air, and I remember why I settled here. Maybe someday I’ll be able to build a house of my own here.”

But this...?

“Wilhelm says the same thing to me every other day. But I’ll tell you what I tell him: Miss Temba is more bark than bite. It doesn’t really bother me when she’s grouchy. Getting to enjoy the beautiful view and breathe this fresh mountain air every day reminds me why I settled in Ivarstead… maybe someday I’ll be able to build a house of my own here.”

The best bits of dialogue in this story were concentrated in the more brief exchanges. Unlike a lot of the other Gwilin fics I've read, the shorter lines of dialogue presented by this author rarely feel quippy or trope-y, which is a real breath of fresh air.

Shifting focus | Shifting focus multiple times in a single line of dialogue or in a single paragraph can be disorienting for the audience. In real life, though thoughts and speech can be scattered, disorganized, and sporadic, such qualities in fictional writing can detract from the verisimilitude of the story. It also has the potential to come off as jarring, which was my general impression of how this story flowed.

You can have introspective characters. You can go for a stream-of-consciousness approach. But it's not an easy thing to do well. Word choice and where the author chose to place paragraph breaks ties into the execution here.

Word choice | While personal preference dictates in large part which words someone might think more apt to express this or that sentiment or convey this or that idea, some words can "take one out of it", pluck you out of the story world just as you're getting lulled in. I was plucked in this way far too many times as I read this story, which tore me up inside because I really did love the finer details the author crafted, wanted to live inside them and let them cradle me until I read the last word and lamented there wasn't more. But I could not.

All in all, this fic had some issues with narrative and structure, which are… not exactly insignificant elements of a story. BUT, the dreamy is in the details here... even if most everything else felt a bit out of place in comparison to those details, focusing on them brought me to an understanding of this most exceptional Gwilin. What more could I really ask for? 7/10

[As a closing note, I would simply like to say all of the issues I mentioned here are issues I've struggled with, and continually struggle with, in my own writing. Saying a lot with a little, connecting characters and ideas, weaving a story that sparkles with wit... is fucking hard.]

VI. Horniness

One of the finer examples of the specific brand of horniness Gwilin brings to the table. And boy, was it brought. 10/10

Final Tally

autistic ass

gives this Gwilin a 7/10!

#gotd #7/10 #oneperf #gwilin #i had to cut this short. it's the longest review i've done yet ;-;#this rating was hard-earned #i will definitely be revisiting this fic periodically #also i do hope it wasn't out of line for me to suggest alternatives to the excerpts of text from the story as i did #it all comes from a place of support

8 notes · View notes