#you can tell that by the last gif i regret all my life choices

[disasterofastory]

Yours (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Yours // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 8/14 Warnings: virgin!Brahms

Summary: You want a special night with Brahms.

"Can you do that, Brahms?" You ask him for the second time when, instead of answering your previous question, he pouts at you with a slight, moody wrinkle between his brows. "Can you promise you won't spy on me for a few hours?" The corners of your lips twitch as you listen to your own words. You can't even imagine what other people would think of Brahms or you if they heard you right now. Or any other time. "But why?" His voice is higher with a couple of octaves than before. His hands on your waist tighten while you keep your arms around his lean waist. "Because I want to surprise you," you tell him. "It's just a few hours, Brahms. Please." His chest stretches with a heavy sigh. "Fine." "Great!" You squeak out, reaching up for his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. "You won't regret it." It's funny you say that; Brahms already feels the regret eating at him when you disappear upstairs.

You have been waiting for this day ever since you decided to stay with Brahms. Well, you like to think you had a choice in the matter. You had doubts when he dragged you into the shower with himself the first time, but after the first kiss you shared, you knew it for sure. He has no experience with women and intimacy. You weren't even surprised. The man lived most of his life behind the walls of Heelshire manor. In the beginning, he had barely any idea what to do or how without your guidance. It was fine, though. You love the power you had over him and his pleasure. You built him up patiently and softly. And today, if he is okay with it, you are ready to take the next step. You are surprised he hasn't initiated it yet. Brahms has no patience when it comes to what he wants, and you learned it rather quickly.

So, you take the first step.

You start with your room after making sure Brahms doesn't lurk behind the walls. You gather more pillows and blankets, adjusting them on the bed to your liking. You even go and unpack the lights you ordered since Brahms is not really comfortable around fire. You put the lanterns and fairy lights all around the room until you are satisfied with the result. By the time you are done, it's already dark outside, and your room looks like a cozy nest with dim lights and the scent of fresh strawberries because of the tray of snacks and drinks on the bedside table.

You are really satisfied when you leave your room to get Brahms, who is already in the living room with his mask on. You can't help but frown at the sight of him. "What's wrong, honey?" You ask him softly, cradling his face in your hands as he accepts you stepping between his legs. His warm palms find their way to the back of your thighs immediately. When he doesn't reply, you continue. "Do you not want to see my surprise? Do you want to do something else?" He shakes his head.

Ever since you earned Brahms's trust, the man avoids wearing his mask around you as much as he feels comfortable without it. By now, you only see it on him when something is wrong.

Biting your lip, you think through your next step. "Do you want to take a bath with me? Bubbles and everything." Finally, he nods. "Good," you smile at him, taking one of his hands in yours to link your fingers together. "Come, then." He follows you up to his room like a lost puppy, watching you prepare his bathroom without a word. "You can take off your clothes," you tell him, glancing at his towering figure over your shoulder when you check the water's temperature for the last time.

You didn't share your plans with Brahms, but maybe he can feel it in the air. He knows something is coming, and you want to give him the chance to say no. "You know," you start. "We can watch a movie, too. Or I can read." Both of you are in the bathtub, enjoying the warmth of the water. The air is heavy with steam and the scent of the bathbomb you used. The water is green and glitters a little under the light of the lamp hanging from the ceiling. "No," he says. The porcelain of his mask is cold on the side of your face as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms are around you while your back is against his broad chest. His hands are cupping your breasts, just holding them for his comfort. "But you can change your mind at any second, okay?" You ask him. "What is our safeword?" "Doll." "Good boy," you praise him, reaching behind you to pet his hair.

You take your time in the bathroom, making sure to wash his worries away until his body is relaxed in your hands. You massage his shoulders, caress his chest, and play with his curls while he lets you pamper him until the water is almost cold and you have to get out. "Do you feel better?" You ask him, leading him out of the room with his hand in yours. "Yes," he replies. He still wears his mask, but you don't mention it. You know he will take it off when he is ready. "Did you change your mind? We can go to sleep, too, baby." "No. I want to see your surprise." "Okay, love," you smile at him soothingly.

You step into the room first so you can see Brahms's reaction. You know it's nothing fancy or grand, but you want to make him feel comfortable and cared for. Even after all the things you did together and with each other, you want to make his first time special.

Brahms doesn't even know how to feel at the sight of your room. He can see the pale face of the moon through the window above your bed, which is full of soft pillows and warm blankets. Small lights hang from here and there, mixing with the dim glow of the lanterns. He had never seen anything so inviting and comfortable.

"What do you think?" You ask him after a while. Your heart thuds against your ribcage since you can't see his expression. "I love it," Brahms answers, caging you in his arms to pull you to his body. His chest is still bare, and your fingers rake through the soft hair. "I love you." "I love you too," you grin at him, kissing the cold lips of his mask. "Do you want to lay down a little?" You ask him. "We have snacks." Brahms follows you to the bed, resting his large body among the soft fabrics while you put the tray in the middle between your bodies. He still feels amazed because of everything you did for him. "Comfortable?" You ask. He nods. "Thank you." "Anything for my baby," you grin at him cheekily just to lighten the mood. "I'm glad you like it, though. And I'm proud of you for keeping your promise." "How do you know?" He asks, pushing his mask away a little to eat some grapes. The fruit pops under his teeth, flooding his mouth with its sweet taste. You shrug, not knowing how to answer. You just know it. Brahms became such a deep part of you that you simply feel him whether he is around you or not. But you are right, though. Brahms wanted to respect your wishes even if it drove him bad most of the day while he waited for you. "Do you want me to read you?" You ask him. "Just a few pages." Even though he is much more relaxed than before, you can still notice his fidgetiness. "Please." So you read him for a while, letting the remaining tension leave his body as he almost melts on the bed. Every now and again, you have to glance at him to check if he is still awake.

"Come here," he says when you pause for a second. "I want you close." Putting away the book, you crawl up on him to straddle his hips. "Do you feel better?" You ask him, playing with the hair on his chest. Your thumbs rub over his nipples a few times. "Yes," he hums, watching you. His shirt is big on you, but he can see the soft line of your breasts and the pretty pebbles of your nipples. He is already pulling on the fabric to get rid of it, but you stop him. "No," you say, and he can't help but be surprised. You never say no when he wants your tits. "What?" "I said no," you tell him. "We will learn new things today, Brahms." He doesn't like it but keeps quiet. You already did so much for him. "I know patience is not your strong suit, but we will work on it today." Oh, no, just not on my patience, he thinks, grimacing under his mask. "And we will learn about building," you grin. You don't have to see the man's face under you to know he doesn't like what you say. "Do you trust me, Brahms?" He nods without thinking. You are the only one in the whole world he fully trusts. "Then believe me when I say you will like it." He nods again.

Brahms watches you with interest as you grab a strawberry from the tray. The fruit is red and ripe. "Do you want to take off your mask?" You ask him. When he shakes his head, you continue. "Then push it out of the way a bit." He can do that. He lets you feed him fruit after fruit while he stares up at you the whole time. He is surprised at how intimate the act is despite its innocence. "Good boy," you break the silence after a while. "Now, the next step." You can feel his body tense under you with anticipation. Putting another strawberry in your mouth, you lean on his chest to reach his lips. For a second, Brahms just stares at you, not knowing what to do before smoothing his hand on your hips and accepting the fruit from your mouth. Both of you munch on it until your lips meet in a soft kiss. The edge of his mask pokes your face, and you want to take it off and throw it as far as you can but decide against it. It has to be Brahms's choice. "Do you want another one?" You ask him. Your words brush over his lips, and he wants another kiss but nods anyway. Repeating your previous actions, you stay capturing his lips with your own. You let yourself taste the fruit on his lips, licking into his mouth with a satisfied hum. Brahms's nerves are on edge as he lies under you, holding onto your hips while you play and tease him. He barely has time to deepen the kiss when you back away to nibble on his bottom lip, biting into the soft flesh softly and soothing the slight pain with your tongue. "Y/N," Brahms says your name with a dreamy sigh as your lips trail down on his bearded jaw and hairy chest. Your tongue flicks over one of his nipples, and he gasps at the new sensation. "Oh!" "Did you like it?" You grin at him, caressing his abs. He is warm under your palm and curious fingertips. "Yes," he grunts. The curve of your lips widens when you see him reaching up to his mask to tear it away from his face and letting it drop next to the bed. "And here is my handsome boy," you croon. "Hey." His heart flutters and the shade of his cheeks darken under your appreciative gaze. "Hey." You lean up to kiss him again, letting him dominate the motion for a few seconds. Your bottom still rests over his crotch. His erection twitches and throbs every time you rub against it as you move. "How are you feeling, Brahms?" You ask him while peppering his face with small pecks. His fire-marred skin is rough under your lips. "Good." Brahms stays with the easiest answer when he can't find the right words. He is excited and hungry for you, but at the same time, he feels soft, and his heart could burst out at any moment because of all the things you make him feel. Your nails crawl over the front of his body, sending goosebumps all over his skin as you move down until you hoover above his knees, and your face is level with the obvious tent in his pants.

The world starts to spin around Brahms with you in the focus when you tug on his pants, and his cock springs free. His desperate grunt is loud in the quiet room when you hold him in your hand and stroke up on his shaft. "I want to see you," he says breathlessly. For a second, you want to deny him but decide otherwise. Quickly, you get rid of his shirt while you stay bare on top of him.

You are so beautiful, he can't even breathe. Your skin looks soft under the dim lights, and every dip and curve of your body seems to beg for his touch. His palms tingle with the need to reach out for you. And he does. A moan escapes your lips when he sits up a little to knead one of your breasts. His thumb runs across your skin, following the curve of your flesh before rubbing over your nipple. "I want it in my mouth," he breaks the silence again, hoping you will give in to his wants once again. "Not yet," you shake your head. "I want to prepare you first." He feels prepared enough, though but can't argue when he chokes on his own saliva when you focus your attention back on his cock. For a long second, he hears nothing but the ringing of his ears as you stroke up and down on his length. Your thumb follows the line of one of his bulging veins until you reach the tip. "You are so pretty," you hum under your breath, still teasing the bulbous head of his cock. You can feel him throbbing in your hold. Brahms's chuckle is breathless and hoarse. "Me or my dick?" You grin. "Both. And you taste good, too." The man saw you take him in your mouth several times already, but the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips is still mesmerizing. You are warm and wet around him. Your tongue is flat against the underside of his shaft. "Y/N!" He gasps out your name, tightening his hold on the blankets around him. Black dots dance in front of his eyes as you suckle on him, gathering his pre-cum on your tongue to gulp every now and again. You take your time, though. You don't chase him to his orgasm, and he never imagined suffering so sweet.

A desperate whimper escapes his closed lips when you move away from his cock. He wants to cum so badly. "It's okay, Brahms," you coo, smoothing your hand over his chest. "You will get your reward for being so patient." The man watches with wide eyes as you settle back above his crotch. Your pussy is nestled against his cock, soaking him with your juices. Something curls in his stomach with anticipation as he stares at the motion of your hips. You rock back and forth, letting your wet heat slide over his cock repeatedly. The tip of his cock nudges your clit every time. "How do you want me, Brahms?" You ask him, panting. The slow pace you set is hard on you, too. Your pussy aches, and your walls flutter with need. After all these months, you want him inside you. Brahms's lips open, but no word comes out. His mind does not want to work. "Do you want me to stay on top?" You ask him. "Or you want to change position?" "Top," he grunts. Your hips rock and twist the whole time. "You." "Okay, baby," you nod.

Lifting yourself from his lap, you still hover above him with your hand between your legs this time. You slide your fingers over your pussy, rubbing your clit for a few seconds before pushing into your hole. A relieved sigh leaves your lips at the familiar stretch, but it's not near enough. You finger yourself above Brahms while the man can do nothing but grip the fabrics around him to keep himself from cumming. At this point, you don't even care about the slight pain you cause yourself. You add another and then a third finger until you are sure you are prepared enough to take his cock.

"Okay," you break the silence, mostly talking to yourself. You need several deep breaths to push down the impatience crawling up your spine. You want it soft and gentle, and if you lose your head, it will be anything but. "Are you ready?" You ask Brahms, glancing at his face. His eyes are glassy, and his lips open. Sweat sticks his curls to his forehead. "Yes," he grunts. "I want you, Y/N." "Good, love." Your smile is shaky. "I want you too." You never wanted anything so much in your life.

A heavy groan is punched out of him when he feels your entrance at the tip of his cock. Your hold on his shaft is steady and firm as you press him into you. You slide down on his slick cock inch by inch, enjoying the pressure in your walls and the way he slowly fills you up. Brahms doesn't even dare to breathe. He just lies under you, watching his cock disappearing in your tight hole. The noises escaping his throat are a mix of groans and whimpers. You are warm and wet around him, squeezing his cock all the way to the base. "How do I feel?" You ask, sitting on him with his whole cock in you. Your question is shaky. At this point, Brahms can't form words anymore. His brain is a mush of pleasure and need in his head. You envelop him tightly. He can feel himself rubbing against your inner walls as you start to rock your hips. They are small movements, but fireworks spark behind his closed eyelids at the feeling. A throaty groan is the only answer you get from him. "You can cum anytime you want, baby," you tell him, watching a vein bulging on his neck as he clenches his teeth together. "No," he growls, slipping his hands to your waist for a squeeze. He wants to feel your pussy when you cum around him. "But please," he continues, gasping. "Move!" To give some weight to his words, he grinds deep inside your wet hole. He reaches every nerve and every spongy spot that steals your breath away. "Fuck!" You wheeze, pushing down against him as you begin to rock back and forth on him more rapidly while his cock twitches and throbs.

"Brahms!" You cry out his name, bracing yourself on his chest as you lift yourself a little and drop back on his cock again. "Fuck!" You both groan at the same time. The man's hands slide up to your tits, palming and kneading your soft flesh. He works on you mindlessly, rubbing and pinching your nipples in reflex. "Again!" He demands, and you repeat your movement several times until you bounce on his cock with his hips pushing up in rhythm into your pussy. You can see as his stomach tightens and your juices soak the trimmed hair at the base of his shaft.

You feel light and drunk on his cock. Your eyes are half closed, and your limbs shake as you force yourself to move. Your pussy squeezes around the grith of Brahms's cock, wanting it to stay inside you until he floods you with his seed. Brahms wants that, too. There are moments as you grind to each other that he is sure his dick will fall off because of the way you work on him. There are no thoughts behind his teary eyes as he stares at you, moaning and groaning. His hold on your breasts is painfully tight, but you have no mind or energy to stop him as he slides in and out of your drenched pussy.

Your vision blurs as you gasp for air. "I'm gonna- I'm-" Your toes curl in pleasure, and the burning coil in your stomach snaps in two. Your pussy flutters around his cock as you reach your climax, still bouncing and rocking. You cry in ecstasy as you fall into a deep spiral, twitching and jerking. Pleasure flares in your veins as you fall apart on his erection while he bucks into you deeper. You can't even tell anymore where your moans end and where his groans start. Your walls clamp around his cock while he empties himself inside of you. Hot spurts of cum fill your hole, and every shot makes you tremble and cry some more.

Brahms's cock still jerks and twitches inside you when you go limp on his body. Your mixed juices flow out of your pussy, soaking his balls and the sheets on the bed. Your muscles burn, your pussy aches from the stretch, and your limbs tingle. And while you fight with your heavy eyelids, Brahms has to learn how to breathe again. His chest heaves under you, and a low groan escapes both of your lips when you lift yourself from him and let your body fall close next to his. "How do you feel?" You pant. "Fuck," he groans, holding your thigh in his hand. You are soft and sweet against him. You grin. "I'm glad." You want to put away the tray that is still on the bed behind you, but there is no way you can move.

"Thank you, Y/N," Brahms breaks the silence after a while. "It was… I just…" "I love you, too, Brahms," you hum, cupping his cheek and raking your finger through his thick beard until both of you fall asleep in each other's arms.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

[moonlight-prose]

IT WILL COME BACK

a/n: this man won the poll and in all honesty, i couldn't stop myself from writing for tommy miller. have you seen him? he's fine as fuck. which resulted in this. in my head i will just make this a small collection of drabbles compiled on a masterlist. so after this i'll reblog prompts you can request more from that tie into this fic. since i have my joel series going i won't make this a full series (yet). either way i hope you enjoy.

summary: mornings in the kitchen with him made life worthwhile.

word count: 4.1k+

pairing: pre-outbreak tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, oral (f receiving), floor sex, p in v sex (not really though), spitting, tommy miller being a little shit, fluff, romance.

Sunlight attempted to break through your curtains; the sheer white blocking anything but the warmth. You felt it creep along the bed, encasing you in a bundle of blankets that trapped the sun’s glow. Shifting to your side, you expected to feel him there. Feel the broad expanse of his chest as you reached out with still closed eyes.

You found nothing but the cold sheets instead.

The first thing that ran through your mind as your eyes fluttered open, was that he must have woken up early enough to head out to work. It would explain why you never heard him leave. While he may share your bed at night, this wasn’t his home. Not entirely.

The drawer you emptied for him only held a flannel or two—mainly for you to use—but nothing essential remained. At night his touch, his body, was yours but once morning came, they were nothing but a lingering memory that stuck to the edges of your mind. If it weren’t for his scent that still remained on the blankets—you would have thought you imagined him.

With a sigh, you sat up. The sheets pooled at your waist, exposing your bare chest. It’s not like you needed him here in the morning, but waking up alone always felt hollow without him. Tommy turned your house into a space you actually found solace in, but the serenity never truly lasted. So, you were left with no other choice but to swallow the pain like it was medicine.

When in fact it was poisoning you slowly; Tommy simply remained your antidote.

Searching through the drawer, you pulled out one of his flannels. More than happy to be wrapped up in his scent.

Eventually, the time would come when you would have to go about your day, and the memory of last night would shift into becoming just that. A memory. But for now you basked in the afterglow that still stuck to your skin.

The urge to tell Tommy what you were feeling would have normally come out sooner or later. But this feeling, this aching loneliness that ate away at the inside of your body, was something you kept to yourself. If he knew how him leaving each morning affected you, he would let the guilt fester in his heart. Because that was his weakness at the end of the day. It wasn’t you, but the feeling that his actions caused you to hurt.

You found that it was better to keep him in the dark, than to burden him with something that would ultimately change the trajectory of your relationship. It was easier this way. Or at least that was a belief you continued to tell yourself. You loved him, this he knew, and he loved you all the same. But the future was a topic that terrified you enough to keep it hidden until things could one day be different.

The scent of coffee filled the bedroom. You figured the timer on the machine must have gone off, starting the brew. That became your alarm most days, the aroma of a good cup of coffee usually pulled you out of bed faster than an alarm.

Tightening the flannel around your bare body, you made your way downstairs, instantly regretting forgetting your slippers as your feet connected with the cold hardwood floors. You wouldn’t be down here long, ready to grab a cup of coffee and crawl back into the safety of your blankets. Yet the sound of a crooning southern voice playing softly in the background and someone humming along, stopped you in the doorway of the kitchen.

Tommy stood at the stove, attempting to flip what you assume was an omelet at one point. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his expression. The furrow of his eyebrows as he concentrated, his lips pursed in frustration when things didn’t exactly go his way.

“Good morning,” you said, drawing his attention away from the catastrophe on the stove.

He turned, his chest and stomach on display. You felt heat creep up your face at the sight of the dark hickeys that trailed down into his jeans. Last night was still a slight blur, but you could vividly recall leaving those—marking him as yours. A wild need to possess him took you over as he was sprawled out beneath your body. Other times you would feel the slight tinge of embarrassment creep into your mind, but you knew he loved it.

“You’re up,” he responded, his eyes dragging down the expanse of your bare legs. His flannel only covered so much—leaving you open and free for him to admire. “I was making you breakfast.” His tongue swept along his bottom lip. You wondered if you left a slight bruise from where you had sucked it into your mouth.

“Smells good.”

He smiled, turning back to flip off the burner. “Smells like burnt shit, but thanks for lying.”

Moving around the table, you slid your hands up his back, lips pressing to his shoulder and suddenly…the ache disappeared. Retreating to the far reaches of your mind, giving you the peace you needed. Sighing against his skin, you felt him shiver beneath your touch. You know his reaction by heart now. Could practically see the way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the pleasure of your touch grounding him.

Tommy would forever be a man with a mission. Never once able to sit still long enough to not fly away, but you were the gravity holding him down. You were the reason he hadn’t left this town yet. Though he left every morning, there still remained the guarantee that no matter what, he’d return once the sun went down. Falling into your bed with whispered promises he would eventually break, and a love that was sweeter than honey.

“I thought you had work this morning,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands shifting to rest over yours.

“Called Joel while you were asleep. Told him I’d be coming late.”

You hummed, hand dragging slowly down his stomach. “I bet he wasn’t happy about that.”

The soft huff of laughter he let out made your heart beat just a bit quicker. But it was the soft groan that rumbled in his chest as your hand dipped into his jeans, that had a fresh wave of slick pooling out of you. He was already hard, his cock heavy in your hand as you slowly palmed him. The realization made you throb, the heady dizziness of lust rushing over you. Wrapping your hand around his length, you felt him twitch, dragging another grunt from him.

If you had the time, you’d drop to your knees for him there in the kitchen. Make him see stars the way he did to you last night. But Joel was an impatient man when it came to Tommy. You knew he only had barely an hour tops and you wanted him inside you before the time ran out.

He turned quickly, forcing you to let go of him. The small sound of protest you let out, cut off by his lips, his hand wrapping gently around your throat to keep you there, tongue delving into your mouth with ease. Tommy knew what made you melt into his body, knew how to drag out all manner of sounds from you, and you gave in willingly. You were his to mold. His to have.

“Baby,” he breathed, his fingers digging into your ass, dragging you closer. “I can feel you soakin’ my jeans.”

A wet moan was pressed to his jaw. Your hips rolled over his denim clad thigh that was slotted between your legs. You knew you were leaving a wet spot on the fabric—that he’d have to wear these jeans to work probably—but you couldn’t care. Not when you felt the fabric catch on your clit, sending a shock through your body.

“Want you,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “I need you inside me.”

He moaned, hips grinding against yours. You felt him pull down his flannel, cupping your breast in his palm, thumb running over your peaked nipple, before he dipped down and took it into his mouth. Gasping, your head fell back, hips rolling over his leg even faster as the pleasure continued to mount in your body. Heat spilling into every part of you, burning you from the inside out.

“Tommy.”

He groaned as you pulled at his curls, dragging his lips back to yours. If there was a place you’d want to spend forever with, it was here with him. Wrapped up in your small safe haven of just each other. No one else existed when you were with Tommy. He consumed you, yet you gave into it without question. There was no one else for you and he knew it.

Dragging the piece of fabric off your body, his calloused palms ran along your skin, sending a shiver through your body at his light touch. You whimpered, barely able to open your eyes due to the dizziness clouding your mind. He smiled at your reaction, eyes dark with lust and yet somehow within the brown, you saw the light he had within. The light you ached for.

There he was, pouring it into you with each kiss pressed to your skin. He promised you forever without saying it and you wanted so badly for him to keep it this time.

“Take me upstairs baby,” you breathed into his mouth, hand feeling his stomach clench as you pressed your palm to his hot skin.

He shook his head. “Can’t do that ma’am.”

“What?” Pulling back, you felt him smile against your throat, his teeth sinking into your skin a moment later. “W-why?” you rasped, fingers curling around his hair in an effort to grasp onto something stable.

“Want to eat you,” he mumbled against you, teeth closing around your earlobe and tugging. “And I eat my meals in the kitchen.”

If it were any other time and his fingers weren’t inching towards your aching clit, you would have laughed. Told him he was an idiot in the most loving voice you could muster—your emotions bubbling over with a single look from him. But before you could get the word out, his fingers circled your clit, causing you to sag into his hold. You buried your head into his neck, your cry muffled against his skin as he built the rapidly growing pressure in your stomach.

“You gonna come for me honey?” You nodded, hips rolling over his thigh faster in an attempt to get there, to feel the hot bliss wash over your skin. “I know you want to.”

“Tommy,” you panted, nails digging into his shoulder. “Please.”

He groaned, fingers digging down to spread you, your slick practically dripping down his hand. “You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg. Alright honey, I got you.”

You keened when he pressed you down harder on his thigh, guiding you through the small stunted thrusts. Vaguely you were aware of how much time was passing, but the worry that he’d leave soon was washed from your mind the second he pinched your clit between his fingers. You sobbed into his neck, eyes rolling back as the dam finally broke, your body going taut—pleasure flooding you. It practically spilled out of you, overwhelming every part of your being, and Tommy kept going.

He pushed and pulled your hips, dragging you along his thigh and smearing your cum along the fabric until they were good and ruined. The pleasure continued to build, burning so hot inside you that you could barely see straight. If you weren’t careful you wouldn’t be able to find a way back to yourself, but maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to ruin you so perfectly, you’d never be the same after him.

Although who were you kidding. There’d never be anything after Tommy.

“Oh god oh god,” you chanted, your withering moan being swallowed by his lips colliding with yours.

Spit trailed down your chin as he pulled away. The two of you combined; you expected him to wipe it away. Only he smeared it across your cheek, his dark eyes following his thumb as it dragged along your skin.

“On the floor,” he said, his voice gruff and thick with lust.

Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to deny him. Your mind had settled into that sweet spot of numbness that allowed him to maneuver your body in any way he pleased. Without realizing it, you found yourself spread on the kitchen floor, his flannel now parted to reveal the expanse of your naked body. A sight that Tommy was indulging himself in.

“So damn beautiful,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your waist, fingers stroking the side of your breast. “And all fuckin’ mine.”

Your body jolted, a shaky breath leaving you as he dropped down your body. Lips kissing and teeth biting along your hips—the dichotomy of pleasure and pain turning the molten burn into a raging fire. If there’s one thing you could expect with Tommy it was this. The softness that came with his touch.

He made you fall in love with his laughs, his jokes, but he owned you with his lips—his hands that spread you open, revealing you to his eyes.

“Baby,” you sighed as he pulled your legs up and over his shoulders, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Yeah honey?”

The small word brought a smile to your lips. “Love you.”

You watched his eyes light up, his lips parting into a smile so big you felt it in your chest. There it was. The reason Tommy could call your heart his. You met him unexpectedly and before you knew it…he had you with that smile alone. He was the one you could call home, the one you saw yourself spending forever with. If only you knew that Tommy felt the exact same way—that the small little box tucked away in his jacket pocket was burning a hole right through his heart at this very moment.

“I love you so damn much,” he said, placing a kiss on your inner thigh.

The clock that hung on the kitchen wall taunted you, telling you that eventually your time with him would be up. That he’d get up, go to work, and leave nothing but the pleasurable ache between your thighs and sore bites up and down your skin. You wanted to capture this moment in your hands, to hold it close when he left. But all you could do was remain in it—savor his touch, his lingering love that burned you slowly, sensually.

The first lick of his tongue through your pussy sent a jolt up your body. You gasped, hips canting up slightly to meet his mouth as he moaned into you. Tommy was insatiable when it came to you, this became clear early on in your relationship. What you didn’t know was how enamored he was with your taste. How he craved you constantly. You learned quickly that if you didn’t cut him off, Tommy would spend hours between your thighs.

His lips attached to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and causing your head to fall back against the floor with a soft thud. Sparks littered up your spine, a broken sob of his name echoing off the kitchen walls. You were thankful the floor was so cold, because you were currently overheated, your body desperate for some balance to the madness.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, eyes falling shut, hand digging into his unruly curls. “You’re so good. I’m–fuck Tommy.” Your words broke off into a whine, his tongue pressing against your entrance.

He lost himself, the taste of you becoming an addiction he couldn’t get rid of, but at the end of the day…he wouldn’t want to. His nails scraped along your thighs as he moaned into your pussy, his hips grinding into the floor to appease the need he felt growing. Licking into you, he watched your mouth drop open in a silent sob, your legs shaking with each flick of his tongue along your clit. You wouldn’t last long, he knew this. 

Except he was adamant to remain here with you, unwilling to leave until he felt you gush into his mouth.

Lifting his head, he heard your broken whines of protest echo in the air. The small beg to have him keep going caused his cock to throb painfully in his jeans. You were beautiful like this. Incoherent with pleasure and body covered with a sheen of sweat that made you glow in the early morning sunlight. He grinned, licking at his bottom lip, resembling a starved man desperate for another taste of his meal.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, shifting up swiftly to press his lips against yours. Sharing your taste as he licked deeply into your mouth. “My pretty baby.”

“I want you inside me,” you begged, hips bucking up to grind against his. “Please Tommy, need you to fill me—” He cut you off with a sharp gasp, his fingers sliding through your spit slicked pussy.

“‘M not done honey.”

The beg was on the tip of your tongue, another plea to hopefully convince him of what you both wanted. Him spitting into your pussy lewdly cut you off. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue spreading his spit up to your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. The plea died in your throat—an incoherent cry of his name overtaking as his fingers curled into you, finding the spot along your walls without trying.

Tommy knew your body well enough to notice the signs. The way your legs trembled, how your walls clamped down around his fingers. You were right on the edge and he wanted to see you fly off. Moaning against your pussy one more time, he scraped his teeth gently along your clit, fingers rubbing against your g-spot in quick movements. The pleasure once again built, mind growing hazy with it as he continued to push you until you were right there.

Glancing down, you caught sight of him thrusting his hips against the floor, desperate to get himself there and that did it. You snapped, brokenly sobbing his name as your hips grinded against his mouth. He let you use him, doing his best to continue stimulating you, the wet sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy now echoing through the room.

Pleasure filled you, burning its way through your body until you could do nothing but silently scream. You tried to catch your breath, but it was stuck—lodged in your chest—forcing you to take in gasps of air. All the way through, Tommy continued to lick and suck at your clit, grunting with each thrust of his hips. He was aching for you, nearly on the edge but unable to fully finish.

“Taste so fuckin’ good honey,” he mumbled drunkenly into your pussy, his eyes shut and mind in a state of delirium. “Shit—” The button of jeans knocked against the floor, his forehead falling to rest on your hip.

“Tommy,” you breathed, fingers curling around his arm and trying to tug him up your body. But not before he kissed above your clit, licking one last time into you.

His hand slapped against the floor above your head, tongue pushing your cum into your mouth and sending a shiver through your body. Even as your shaky hands dipped into his jeans, pulling him out, he still asked to keep tasting you. That’s how things worked in his mind. Seeing you cum was worth more to him than getting off himself.

“Want you to cum,” you mumbled into his mouth, tilting your hips up and notching his cock at your entrance.

“Fuck honey.” He gasped, as you started to fuck yourself on the very tip of his cock, his hand moving down to keep himself steady. “You want me to fill you up?”

You nodded, whining his name against his cheek. “Need it baby.”

Pumping himself in quick strokes, he felt his balls draw up—the tightening in his abdomen nearly causing him to double over. It wouldn’t take him long at all; his release already having built as he ate you out. The feeling of your hand moving to cup his balls did him in. With a hoarse shout he felt something break inside of himself, your walls clamping down around his cock as he finally pushed himself into your pussy.

You sighed at the warm feeling of his cum spurting along your walls, filling you until it dripped down and smeared along your thighs. But nothing compared to the sight of Tommy lost in his own bliss. His mouth dropped open, eyebrows pulling tight as a flush of red took over his face and chest. It would take him a while to come back to you, his mind buzzing from having cum so hard.

With a contented sigh, he pressed the rest of his weight on you. “I’m definitely not making it now,” he mumbled, smiling against your chest.

“I don’t need Joel banging on my front door,” you replied, shoving lightly at his shoulder.

He laughed, teeth sinking into the top of your breast, his cock twitching inside of you. “I’ll call him and tell him…”

“Hey sorry I can’t come in today. Got too busy fucking my girlfriend on the kitchen floor.”

“Perfect.”

“Tommy!”

His head raised, smile pulling so wide you could see the slight crinkle in the corner of his eyes. “I’ll say it in a nicer way.”

“You’ll tell him nothing at all.” You cupped his cheek, lips sliding against his softly. “You will get up, wash your jeans, get another cup of coffee, and get out of here before we incur the wrath of the other Miller.”

He sighed into your mouth. “I don’t want to go.”

Your heart twisted in your chest, the reminder of time once again filling you with a dread you could never escape. Neither of you wanted to part, too wrapped up in what could be. But eventually you would have to open your eyes and see what this was. Just two people who loved each other too much to give this their all. A pattern that would never stop.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted, finally letting that painful ache be seen by him.

“Then I won’t—”

“You have to.”

Tommy’s eyes searched yours, trying to find something in him he could fight for. Something that would assure him of that single question still residing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted forever with you. Wanted a house together, a dog or cat, the life that he watched his parents once have. He wanted you.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth was moving.

“I want to marry you.”

Your eyes went wide, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Silence passed between you for a brief moment, the shock now being replaced with a sinking feeling. He wouldn’t be saying this if it were a different scenario. In fact you were certain that he wouldn’t even go near this topic on any other day.

“This is just the heat of the moment talking, Tommy,” you said, in an attempt to save yourself from the pain.

His eyes narrowed. “No it’s not.”

“You’re still inside me! You shouldn’t be saying this unless you’re sure that—” His hips grinding into yours cut you off as you gasped.

“You want me down on one knee I’ll do that honey. Want me to give you romance and dinner and everything in between? I’ll do it. But you’ve got to know I’m more serious now than I have ever been.”

“Tomm—”

“Before you can continue your argument—which I’ll let ya—let me go get the ring.”

Your jaw snapped shut, breath catching in your chest at the sight of his grin. “You…you have a ring?”

“Yes honey. I do.”

“Y–You’re serious?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing the top of your cheek. “I want forever with you. If you’ll have me.”

If you listened hard enough, you would have been able to hear your heart burst. The ache now vanished the longer you looked him in the eyes to see the truth. It was there you found it. Small hints of a future that you yearned for was now being offered to you and this time the promise he made would stick. Laughing, you pulled him down for a kiss, your legs hiking over his hips to keep him there with you.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he asked, parting from you long enough to simply give you another chaste kiss.

This time it was your turn to nod, tears already streaming down your face. “Yes Tommy. I’ll have you. Forever.”

#tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fic #my writing

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Discovering Your Past - Eula & Keqing x Male!Reader

In which they find out you were abused by your ex.

CW: Mentions of past trauma - physical abuse and SA. Modern AU. A/N: My fics are getting longer recently. I wonder if you guys mind?

Injuries are a natural part of life. 

A scraped knee, a concussion, a sprained or broken limb - all creatures will have to endure these hardships one way or another. And, as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Each wound leaves a scar, each fight or accident is a lesson for the future on what to do or avoid. 

What about those on the other end? Most feel regret about hurting others, are forced to do it or are convinced of their actions' justified nature. Yet among those are some starkly different cases. People who enjoy causing pain, be it physical or mental. And, undoubtedly, she was one of them. 

Fate had it that your heart longed for her. She was a beauty, benign and friendly, whose charms worked on you without fail. She pushed, she pulled, slowly dragging you into her web. Your mind was too clouded with feelings to notice just how badly she trapped you. Like a spider she wrapped you in silky touches and words of affection like in a cocoon, and you were completely oblivious to your situation. And that she was - an apex predator, an effortless liar and natural manipulator. She stoked the flames of family conflicts, estranging you from your loved ones. Friends? She gave you a simple choice - it's me or them. You were coaxed into signing off your house under her name, as she encouraged you to do with many of your belongings, until you had nothing. Time and time again she pulled your strings through your heart, backing you into a corner. Alone. Unable to escape. Without anyone to turn to, anywhere to get away. 

When your eyes opened at last, nobody was there to hear you scream. 

Years. It took you two whole years to escape her clutches, two years of cruelty hidden behind a veil of love. With only the clothes on your back and some Mora in your pocket, you set off to another nation. There, you found a new home, and a new love. Sweet, caring and warm. 

But wounds of the past cannot be hidden forever. 

You push the door behind you, closing it with an accidently loud thud. Eula kicks off her high heels and enters the hall, placing down her bag and taking her jacket off. You put yours on the hanger and move to take hers, but she sends you a sharp look and walks past you, doing it herself. 

The silence is tense. You know what you did. 

“Honey, listen. I know I shouldn't have started that discussion-” You try to speak, but she turns around and cuts you off. 

“Yes, you shouldn't have.” 

Her eyes send daggers towards you. Your heart aches at the sight of your lover so full of anger, all because of you. Her family wasn't easy to interact with. Her choice of career made her the pariah of the line, but after she married you, the relations seemingly normalized enough to make them liveable. Seemingly. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I mustn't do that ever again. I promise I won't.” You raise your open hands, as if showing you're unarmed. What was supposed to calm her down just irritates her. 

She scoffs and approaches you. “I say you are an intelligent man, but times like these are when I doubt it. What's so hard to understand in ‘my family isn't normal and the less you interact with them the better’?”

She's right. Eula has told you time and time again that the opinions her father, mother, grandparents, uncles and aunts hold are final. Nothing will change them, they won't ever back down. They are egomaniacal with a tendency to bring those around them down to elevate themselves. And yet, there's something drawing you to them, something natural that tells you that they can be a source of warmth. 

Because that's how things are supposed to be. A family should love each other, be united and supportive instead of polarized and hateful. Something in your soul doesn't seem to understand that you can't find any support in her side of the family. 

“I know, Eula. I try to-”

“Then your ‘trying’ is not enough!” Her voice elevates further. There is something building in your chest. The pressure crawls from your heart up through your throat, rotting itself inside your neck. A choking feeling. 

“Y/N, you shouldn't talk to them! Never, ever. You know how it ends, don't you? They bring you down, they hurt and belittle you. And you know that, don't you?” 

Her eyes are narrowed. She speaks louder now, her words coming from a place of compassion and love rather than hostility. Your mind, however, is focused on something else. 

Something familiar. 

Her tone picks up, and so does your heartbeat. She's almost screaming now. 

“Sorry, dear, but are you masochistic? Or just stupid?! I will have vengeance!”

Your hyper focused eyes spot movement. Her hand goes upwards, your chest sinking. Body stiffening, you turn your head down and sideways, exposing your cheek. 

Just as she taught you. 

Fighting back was pointless. 

You deserve it. 

You hold your breath. 

Silence. 

The blow doesn't connect. You hear the sounds of a barefoot step. You crack your eyes open. You see Eula has taken a step back, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. She blinks a few times and pulls her hand back towards her body. 

“Not t-that kind of vengeance.” Eula barely mumbles the words out in pure confusion. She shakes her head in disbelief, her gaze leaving you and dropping to the floor. “Never. I w-would never-”

You spring back to life, as if a grave threat or danger just vanished. 

“No no no, it's alright, honey. I just got a little scared of you, haha. It's fine, really!” You smile sheepishly, shame crawling under your skin. On reflex or out of habit, you rub your cheek. “Maybe I really am stupid, for being scared and all, you know?”

She takes a slow step closer. Her voice is far quieter than mere seconds ago, now down from a scream to a whisper.

 “No. Don't call yourself that. My… My emotions got the better of me, honey. I’m sorry.” Eula’s voice composes, worry furrowing her brow as she stretches out her arm towards you, this time taking care to do it slowly. “May I…?”

You smile and nod, letting the palm of her hand connect to your cheek. Her touch is gentle, fingers tracing your skin with utmost care. 

Your skin is so soft, so smooth, familiar. Her heart clenches, her mind holding no doubt about your reaction. You are not someone easily scared, nor are you particularly fearful of harm. Something, somebody…

“Who was it?” Her hand trails down smoothly, coming to rest on your shoulder. “Who hurt you?”

You shake your head. “What? What do you mean? Nobody, I’m fine-”

“I said…” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “... who hurt you?” 

At an instant, the thoughts in your mind already form into a rebuttal, a measly attempt to cover the truth. But you know better than that. Eula isn't that stupid. 

You sigh, trying to figure out what to say. Seeing your hesitation, she places both of her arms on your shoulders, her eyes focusing on yours. Within her beautiful irises fading from deep purple to light yellow you find a steadiness worthy of a captain, but also a lover. 

“You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, honey.” She speaks softly, stroking your skin in calming circles. “I just need to know if justice has been served, or some additional, very particular and very severe vengeance needs to be added to my to-do list.”

“My ex-girlfriend is… She’s no longer a threat, alright?” You close the distance between you and Eula and embrace her. Your lover secures her arms around you right away, providing you with just the comfort you seek. “I just don’t want to go back to those days. They’re over and I just want to focus on you… On somebody that actually loves me. Somebody that doesn’t scream at me for no reason, belittles and insults me, and…”

Your voice trails off. Images and sensations rush through your memory. Every insult, every impact weighs on your voice, trapping it beneath the torrent of nightmarish memories. Eua squeezes you tighter. 

“Shh. Don’t think about it now, sweetie. You're here, safe in my arms. I promise to be your shield. However…”

Eula's characteristic pout forms on her face. 

“For not telling me about this, I will have vengeance.”

“That was a little shameful for me-” She cuts you off. 

“Silence. My retribution is nigh. For your transgression, I shall cuddle you and feed you ice cream while subjecting you to the terror of your favorite movie.” She narrows her eyes theatrically before gently, but firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. “You cannot escape now.”

You smile in horror. 

The screen flashes with a jump scare as a curtain is moved aside. A disfigured monstrosity covered in black goo and rags opens its jaw to reveal a set of sharp, but surprisingly pristine teeth.

“Brains!” Its voice is clearly augmented in some way, deep and a little echoing. 

The punk screams at this sight but before he can do anything, the zombie grabs his head with its skeletal hands and bites down. The rest of the group squeals. The man's head is cracked open like an egg, filling the undead's mouth with fake blood and flesh-like props. 

“Oh my…” Keqing can't help but gasp a little, her arms tightening around your chest slightly. “That's a lot of jaw force…”

As the zombie digs into the man's brain, a joke comes to your mind. 

“He's not going to extract a lot of brain from him, is he?” 

In response, Keqing chuckles a little. “Yeah. But at least he is also quite brave. If not for him, that girl would have been the meal instead.”

“True, true.”

The movie continues. The female lead escapes the locker she was trapped in moments ago as her friend is being devoured. Another character throws an empty bucket of paint at the creature, making it fall back, before raising up and exclaiming joyously: 

“More brains!”

The kids scream and run away. Keqing, as much as she finds the movie interesting, can't help but recall one scene in particular. 

A smirk settles on her delicate features. “So… How's the movie? Do you like it?”

You nod vigorously. “Of course! It's a classic that I wanted to watch for a long time now, but never got around to that. And I can confidently say that I regret not watching it earlier. It's a lot of fun.”

Keqing hums in understanding. Her fingers, one of them brandishing a beautiful and intricate golden ring, slowly move up onto your leg. 

“Did you enjoy any scene in particular, honey?” Your eyes follow her hand as it moves up, each finger making a slow, deliberate step. 

Just a glance at her slight blush and sly smirk is enough to make you catch on, making your cheeks heat up as well. You gulp. 

“Well…” You start, but Keqing places a finger on your lips, silencing you. 

“Aw, sweetie~ I know full well how you were eyeing that girl. Your thoughts were betrayed by much more than just your stare.”

Her hands move up, sliding underneath your shirt and caressing your exposed chest. You feel her desire through her movements, careful, seductive, yet impatient at the same time. A little shiver of excitement crawls through your body. 

“Honestly, Y/N, I can't blame you. That redhead was quite a beauty, after all. ”

Her hands clench over your body as she rolls to sit on your lap, her eyes, twinkling with desire, pointed right at you. Keqing sends you a wink. Your hands settle on her buttocks. 

“But you see, my dear, you got me just a little too jealous to resist showing this handsome guy which girl his attention should be on~” Her hands shift to meet yours, fingers wrapping around your wrists. “So relax and let me have the spotlight~”

Your eyes widen as she hoists your arms off her and pins them to the wall above your head. You try to struggle away, but her grip is iron thanks to the additional strength provided by her Vision. An attempt to release your body from underneath hers fails as well. You're nervous - this never happened before. 

“Keqing, you're-” You start to say, but are interrupted by her right hand locking onto your throat. 

Your hands clench, eyes growing wide. You choke, any words of protest dying in your restricted windpipe. You look at Keqing, who smiles mischievously, completely oblivious to your discomfort. 

“What did I say? Bad boy!” She uses her other hand to pry yours off her choking arm. You relent, shocked and increasingly scared at her sudden roughness. “Now stay still, or you'll regret it~”

Tears form in your eyes as she leans and begins kissing and licking your cheek, adding small bites here and there. You close your eyes, not wanting to see what happens next. The feeling of her genuine affection recalls different images in your mind. The past and the present melt into one in your mind. 

As you lay helpless, Keqing continues loving you until her tongue hits an unusual note of salt on your skin. She pulls back and, upon seeing you crying, lets go of you right away. Her hands go to cover her mouth in an expression of pure horror. 

“I’m sorry! I’m… Oh Gods, I didn't mean to-!” 

You squirm away and, in response, Keqing jumps off of you. She reaches towards you, but ultimately stops herself. Shame, guilt and sadness light up her face, hidden behind her small hands. 

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. By now your senses have returned. Her reaction brought you back at an instant. You get up and approach her. 

“Keqing, I'm sorry, nothing-” 

You're interrupted as she dashes past you. You can only call out to her as she runs to the bathroom and slams the door behind her. The sound of a lock turning halts your movements. 

You sigh and drop back down on the couch. The movie is still playing. Your ears pick up the sounds of soft sobbing from behind the bathroom doors. The heart tells you to get up, to talk to her, to knock down the door if need be, but the brain speaks with reason. She needs time, and you know it. It's better to let her calm down on her own. If you were to approach her now, she likely wouldn't speak to you, let alone open the door. 

Tears return to the corners of your eyes. Your heart aches at the sound of her pain. You can tell what she's thinking. That she's awful, dangerous, creepy, abusive. That it's all her fault. 

But the truth? She's not the problem. You are. 

The TV's noise irritates you. You turn it off and throw the remote across the room. Your head falls into your hands. 

How could you have done this to her? 

Why can't you just let go? 

Why are you so weak? 

A shaky sentence manages to make its way out of your lips. 

“It's all my fault.”

—

Deafening silence was all that filled the following hour when her crying died down. You went through every possibility of what would happen when the bathroom door would open. You planned what to tell her and how, you anticipated all of her possible reactions. You knew you couldn't fail again. You couldn't leave her in the dark and risk another incident like this. 

She shouldn't suffer because of me, you thought. It was your obligation to be transparent with your wife. Not like you weren't dying to apologize, to comfort her, to let her know it isn't her fault. But you were patient. 

When the door finally opened, Keqing looked abysmal. Her make-up was completely gone, first made running with tears, then washed away along with them. Her hair was a mess, not a trace of her usual prim and proper style left. Her eyes were red and barely open. 

You spoke gently. You hugged her, asking for a chance to explain yourself. She nodded wordlessly and you sat with her by the table. There, you told her everything. You told Keqing about your previous partner and about exactly what you suffered at her hands. Your wife was very quiet, but still nodded every now and then. From the shakiness of her voice when she spoke the few words in your conversation, you could tell she was stopping herself from bursting into tears again. Nonetheless, you continued until the story was told. 

“As such, Keqing, my wife, my love, the sun to my moon, none of what happened is your fault.” You continue, following the script you prepared in your mind. “It was my weakness and my inability to move on that caused all of this in the first place. For that, I’m… sorry. I truly am.”

She nods. Her eyes are focused on her hands, fingers fiddling with each other. Keqing slowly lifts her eyes to meet yours. You spot tears gathering on her features. 

“Why… I don't understand…” She starts, but upon realizing her instability, she sniffles and swallows the sadness weighing on her chest. “Why would you ever say that you're weak?” 

You sigh. “I should have moved on by now, but instead, I kept it with myself and now it hurt you as well. It is my pain and thus my responsibility to handle it.”

“No, n-no that's… How… How could someone such as you be weak?” She shakes her head. “You survived so much. So much pain, so much fear, so much hurt… And yet here you are, Y/N. Not only trusting another woman, a woman whom you not only married, but also allowed into your bed. I can't imagine myself doing something like that so quickly. You've moved on, honey. You regained the strength to trust and to love again. How can this be called anything but strong?”

You open your mouth to challenge her on this, but she acts first. 

Keqing breaches the gap between you and falls into your arms. Her body wraps around yours, holding onto you tightly. One of her hands travels to your cheek. 

“Y/N, you're strong. For having endured it, for having moved on, trusted again.” 

You drop your gaze. Perhaps she is right. Keqing gently lifts your cheek to direct your attention back at her. She smiles, her tearful eyes shining with boundless affection. 

“You're the strongest man I've ever known.”

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #angst #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin impact hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #genshin impact eula #genshin impact eula lawrence #eula lawrence #eula #genshin eula #eula x reader #eula x male reader #eula x you #eula x y/n #eula angst #eula hurt/comfort #genshin impact keqing #genshin keqing #keqing #keqing x reader #keqing x male reader #keqing x you #keqing x y/n

[its-time-to-write]

hi there! (ok FIRST AND FOREMOST i need to tell you that i am obsessed with your writing. you are by far my favorite jamie tartt writer, you characterize him perfectly and nail his speech mannerisms! not an easy feat! so thank u for writing what you do and for sharing it with us!!!! <333333 ok now that i've gotten that off my chest) if you're taking requests right now i'd love to see your take on a (slowburn?) enemies to lovers fic with jamie!!

I don’t know why I take simple little prompts and turn them into angsty monstrosities. This one makes up for the lack of plot in my other fics, and I’d like to apologize in advance😬

Oh also I am the queen of commas, in case you didn’t know 😇😇

flipped the script

It cannot be considered murder if you’re provoked. It would be considered doing the world a favor. 

And by god, you are going to fucking murder Jamie Tartt.

He does absolutely fucking nothing but make your life fucking miserable and you’re fucking losing it.

The only thing you’d agree on is when it started. It was 4am and he was yelling at someone called Roy and you had to be awake in two hours for a fucking conference, and you’d only just fallen asleep at 1am.

So you marched out of your house to the sidewalk where your prick neighbor was arguing with his prick coach and told him to shut the fuck up or I’m calling the police.

He opened his mouth to retort, changed his mind, then made a snide comment about your choice of outfit while you glared at him. His prick coach had the decency to apologize and smack Jamie on the head, so you said, “You’re fine, Roy, I’ll see you at work next week,” and Roy said, “Ah shit, you have that fucking conference, yeah?” and you said yeah then flipped off Jamie as you walked away.

You really hadn’t had many interactions with Jamie before, but you knew him before you started your job as an administrative assistant for AFC Richmond since you were, after all, living right next to each other.

Your last job had paid incredibly well; you were basically the go-to girl for your last company for two and half years. You compiled all relevant information from the day and presented to your boss so he would be caught up on the company’s inner workings. You were observant when it came to valuable (or toxic) employees, and had gained a reputation for being an invaluable asset.

But your old boss was retiring and you were ready for something new, so you began looking around. You found a job at AFC Richmond, assisting a Mr. Higgins and just generally making sure his job ran smoothly so the club could run smoothly. 

It was mostly paperwork, but you enjoyed it. You collected data from all different departments and then ran it by Higgins and Ms. Welton. You weren’t above coffee runs; it was nice to get out sometimes and Ms. Welton would put your coffee on her bill. You got to take your lunch breaks with them and talk and laugh, and be appreciated, which is something you didn’t often get.

The nature of your job demands a certain level of… professionalism, shall we say, which can be misconstrued as coldness. You’re not. You’re just young and trying to be taken seriously, which is why it’s nice to be known both in a personal and professional capacity by Higgins and Ms. Welton. Higgins has even invited you over for family dinner and you’d invited his family over to yours. His boys had absolutely lost their minds at the amount of nerf guns you had stashed in each room, courtesy of your brother who often liked to drop by unannounced when he knew you were home and get you in the back of the head. Sometimes you regretted giving him a key, but not enough to take it back.

All that to say, it was a relatively seamless transition to AFC Richmond. You and Jamie would exchange a neighborly nod if you saw each other, but that was absolutely it. 

—

The next incident is, uh, kind of your fault.

Remember the brother-and-nerf-guns thing?

Yeah.

Your brother had sneaked over on a Sunday (parked around the corner so his car wouldn’t be seen on your security cameras) and you were chasing each other around the house. Your sister-in-law had warned you he was coming over (he asked her to drive him), so you were prepared and hiding in the bushes. He was nonchalantly walking on the sidewalk, hands in his hoodie, when you popped out and got him right in the chest then booked it into your house, which led to a solid fifteen minutes of running and yelling, with the occasional, “Ow, you jerk!” that siblings are always saying but never really mean.

The incident occurs when you’re once again in your front yard running from your brother. You look back to assess how far away he is when smack, you run into someone and feel their beverage go flying.

It’s Jamie, and his bright pink drink is now all over his clean white hoodie.

You both stop and glare at each other. 

You had stopped feigning civility after the 4am thing, so the glare is standard procedure.

Jamie says, “What the fuck?” as your brother comes careening to an abrupt halt.

You’re still glaring. “Why are asking me ‘what the fuck?’ You’re the one walking around here with that fucking awful drink that’s probably going to kill your internal organs. I mean seriously, it cannot be safe to consume something that bright.”

“Says the girl who’s addicted to diet soda.”

“Says the girl who’s fucking pissed that her sidewalk is stained fucking bright pink. How the fuck am I supposed to clean this?”

Jamie’s face is red now, and yours is too.

“A), it’s a fucking public sidewalk and b), what about my fucking sweatshirt? This cost more than your shitty car!” he shoots back, and that’s the moment a line is crossed.

“We live in the same goddamn neighborhood,” you hiss, “so shut the fuck up with your stupid elitist footballer bullshit.”

“Oi, at least I’m not a fucking stuck-up, self-righteous big-shot with no friends!”

You’re not sure what would have happened next because your brother grabs you by the arm and hauls you back inside, waving apologetically to Jamie. All the fight goes out of you as soon as the door shuts.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” he asks. He never did like using the word “fuck.”

—

What the ever-loving hell was that? Well, it’s actually quite simple. In the seven months you’ve been at Richmond, you haven’t really made any friends.

Yes, you have Ms. Welton and Higgins, but that’s not the same as having people the same age as you to go out with and watch movies and drink and dance and just be stupid and unwind with. 

You’re not even necessarily looking for friends at Nelson Road, just friends somewhere. The problem is, you’re not even sure how to go about it. You’ve spent the last decade of your life (yes, decade) working your ass off to get where you are now. Fourteen year-old knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. You had hustled through school, made connections, grew your resume, and saved every fucking penny until you landed a job that you were definitely under qualified for, but you had nailed the interview. You weren’t sure why your boss decided to take a chance on you, until he told you later he saw the same spark his daughter had in your eyes.

His daughter, who had become a multi-millionaire on her own by the time she was twenty-seven.

So, because someone saw the grit in your eyes of all places, you had a chance to make a fuck ton of money and have a fuck ton of benefits.

You made more connections, including a realtor who set you up with your current home at a price that was insane to normal people, but a steal to the rich. You were signing papers before it was even officially on the market.

It had been labelled as a “fixer-upper,” but that meant a little bit of scuffed paint and slightly outdated utilities. 

And it was yours.

It all came at a price though, didn’t it?

That price was not seeing your family often, sleeping poorly, and no real friends.

That’s why your brother makes it a point to come around. He knows that your lack of contact does not equate a lack of love.

Not everyone saw it that way. You’d lost all your friends at this point, labeled a bitch and a workaholic. So, you though, why the hell not just lean into it. You could be a bitch and a workaholic if it got things done. It was easier to harden the shell around your heart than let people in again.

—

Ok, maybe taking out all that anger on Jamie isn’t healthy, but hey, he’s the one fighting back so hard. 

Things keep happening. His foot is stuck out just enough to make you stumble as you pass each other in the hallway, your car is parked on the street just enough so he can’t get into his garage, ferocious glares are exchanged. Any conversation you are forced to have is laced with sarcastic, biting remarks that only serve make you close off even more. 

The worst part? You’re both fucking brilliant at hiding it. 

You’d have to be, especially at AFC Richmond under Ted Lasso’s command. If he got wind of this, he’d be all over it trying to fix it and neither of you want that. 

You see, Jamie’s a little bit fucked up too.

—

You’ve been at AFC Richmond for a year, and you’ve hated Jamie Tartt for eleven months.

Yet somehow, you’re in fucking Paris. 

Not with just Jamie, of course, but the whole team.

Rebecca’s basically given you a paid vacation because there isn’t much for you to do here. It’s great, the city of lights or something, but you can’t enjoy it. 

You’re in your room on the floor, becoming slowly dehydrated from crying.

Everything is all fuzzy and you’re incredibly disoriented, so you think you might be hallucinating when you hear a knock on the door.

It happens again, more insistently, and you think it’s probably Rebecca so you drag yourself up off the floor, wipe your eyes, and open it to find Jamie Tartt standing in front of you, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

He’s staring at the top of the doorframe as he says, “Coach sent me to see if you want to go out with the lads tonight,” looking down only when you’ve left his statement unanswered for far too long.

His look of annoyance changes as he clocks your puffy eyes and red nose. 

“You alright?” he asks and you don’t even have the heart to say, obviously, don’t I look it? so you just nod and move to shut the door. 

Jamie blocks it with his hand and pushes it back open, then past you into the room.

It’s pristine, all marble and gold; and far too big for you. You would have preferred something smaller, something less empty. Something less cold. 

All you can do is stand there mutely in your t-shirt and sweatpants, watching your worst enemy clatter around in the room’s fridge looking for a water bottle.

He retrieves one and hands it to you, cap unscrewed.

You don’t ask if he’s spit in it, just take a sip and look at him with dead eyes.

“You look like shit,” he observes, breaking the silence. 

It’s not a dig. You’ve heard enough condescension from his lips to know when he’s fighting.

You shrug.

“You gonna say something?” Jamie asks, and that’s enough to get you going.

“You’re the one who’s in my room,” you say and instead of firing back, Jamie grins. 

“We can go to mine if you want, love,” he winks and in a terrible, awful, panic-inducing moment, you are thrown completely off your guard.

How the fuck are you supposed to reconcile this Jamie Tartt with the awful neighbor you hate? And is he- flirting? Surely not.

He registers your face going through a million expressions in an instant and sobers.

“Go sit,” he says, and you comply without thinking. You’re cross-legged on the couch and he thumps down next to you. He’s not close enough that you’re touching, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s funny, because you feel so cold. You wonder for a moment if your heart has actually turned to stone and that’s why you’re shivering.

You hear someone say, “My ex is here,” and are horrified to realize that you’re the one talking, and not only that, but you’re continuing. 

“He fucking… knew I’d be here. I saw him in the lobby. He acted like it was some great coincidence, but he was never a great liar. And… he’s here with his girlfriend. Fiancée, I guess. Because he’s proposing to her tonight. They’ve known each other less than a year, and he’s proposing to her. I saw him in the lobby looking like this while he’s in a fucking suit and all I can think about is the fact that he broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out because I wasn’t ready. And how he said he wasn’t the marrying type.” You pause.

“I broke my back making time for him. Everyone thinks I’m a workaholic and maybe I am, but I make time for the people I love. I made time for him. It sounds funny to say, especially how I am now, but he’s why I don’t anymore. Make time, I mean. Nobody notices I’m gone anyway. Or when I’m around. Or anything I do unless I’m doing something for them.”

You risk a look at Jamie. He’s studying your face with an intensity you’ve never seen and you look down to find his hand in yours, and you wonder how that happened. Your knuckles are white from gripping it but he’s holding it back and it gives you just enough of a boost to keep going.

“I don’t even want the money for myself. Like, I’m able to buy expensive shit and that’s cool, but the only reason I have a house that big is because my brother and his wife have a shit-ton of kids, and sometimes they need a break. So they can come over to mine and run around and have space and be wild for a week and I don’t care. They won’t let me give them money, so I have to think of creative ways to help them out. I only have nephews- they each have their own trust fund. It’s not that big right now, but it’s growing. It’ll be a lot by the time they’re each eighteen. And my parents… They died when I was fourteen. It was a stupid car accident, this freak thing with the brakes even though they’d just had the car serviced a week before. My brother was twenty one and newly married because he’s an idiot and he was in love. He and his wife let me live with them.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not right, they didn’t just let me live with them, they took care of me. Bought me clothes and fed me and let me have my own room even though I said I could sleep on the couch. They could barely afford things for themselves, but they made sure I had what I needed. That’s why I threw myself into work and pushed people away. It’s for them, because I know I can never repay them. But I want to, even if they won’t let me.”

You’re done speaking, finally, and your face is bright red. It normally is when speaking to Jamie, but that’s from the sheer anger you usually feel from having to deal with him. This time it’s different. It’s from the embarrassment of being vulnerable in front of someone.

Jamie hasn’t said anything the whole time, just let you hold his hand. Your knees are touching now, and you realize that one of you must have shifted to make that happen.

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Why are you here, Jamie?” you ask softly. “You hate me. I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

He looks straight into your eyes. “I don��t hate you,” he says simply.

That’s enough to fully shatter the shell around your heart, and you’re shaking with silent sobs again as Jamie pulls you closer, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

—

You fall asleep like that, and you’re not sure at which point Jamie left. But when you wake up, you’re in your bed under a blanket. You think maybe you dreamed the whole thing until you see the note on your nightstand in messy handwriting.

I meant what I said.

—

Neither you nor Jamie comment on it, but something has changed. You don’t hate him anymore. He sits next to you on the plane back and cracks jokes, and you have a weird opportunity to apologize. He tells you he’s sorry too, explains about his dad, and you form a strange bond of repressed anger as a way to deal with hurt. 

Ted is right, forgiveness is the way to go.

—

Jamie Tartt makes it a point to ask you to go out with the lads every time they do group activities. You meet Rebecca’s friend Keeley, basically the only other girl, and pretty soon she’s invited herself over for girl’s nights. Jamie recognizes Keeley’s car the second time it happens and walks over to say hey. She invites him in, and suddenly he’s a fixture at girl’s night. His movie recommendations are shit, but his skincare products are not.

Since things at AFC Richmond aren’t as hectic as you’re used to, you start to pick up some of your old hobbies. Cooking, for example. You get your hands on a copy of Jamie’s diet plan and start experimenting with ways to make it more interesting. So now he’s at yours for dinner more often than not. 

He pops his head over the fence one Saturday afternoon, hearing young voices all morning. Your nephews are over and playing football in the backyard while your brother and sister-in-law deep clean their house. You’re sitting under an umbrella with the baby in your arms and a pitcher of water, when you hear Isaiah, the oldest, say, “Whoa! Is that Jamie Tartt?” 

You look up from Daniel’s tiny giggly face to see Jamie hanging over your fence and waving. You roll your eyes and grin back.

“Wanna come over?” you call, and the words are barely our of your mouth before he’s hopped over and starting to steal the ball from your four walking nephews.

They’re at it for a good thirty minutes before he calls time-out and is jogging over to you, all sweaty and grinning. 

“Didn’t know you were good with kids,” he says.

“Could say the same thing about you,” you shoot back.

He grabs water then makes a silly face at Daniel, who giggles and waves his arms. You laugh and kiss the baby on the top of his head, which makes him gurgle. You look up to see Jamie watching you strangely, so you wrinkle your nose at him. “What?” you say, but before he can open his mouth to respond, Jesse is pulling on Jamie’s hand, telling him the time-out is over.

—

Your next interaction of note happens after your third consecutive Richmond match. You don’t usually go to them, as it’s not required and you didn’t really care. But since you’ve been hanging out with the team, you find yourself taking Rebecca up on her offer to sit in the owner’s box. It’s three days until the next match and you’re looking for Jamie so you can eat lunch together. You find him in the locker room of all places and hand him his bag of food, yet another one of your experiments.

You’re starting to get really good revitalizing Jamie’s meal plan.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and you both miss the looks exchanged between Ted and Beard in their office.

Jamie puts down the lunch and says, “Oi, I got you something.” He reaches into his locker and pulls out a Richmond jersey.

“It’s new, it ain’t one of mine, but now you can wear it to matches.”

You shake it open to see it’s a Jamie Tartt jersey, and this makes you unreasonably happy.

Jamie’s grinning too, and it’s the rare kind of grin where his teeth look sharper and his eyes flash.

You hug it to your chest and say, “I’ll be sure to wear it Saturday,” before you and Jamie head to the café to eat.

— 

Keeley, of course, has comments about the jersey. You pretend not to understand what she’s saying.

—

It’s girls night again, and you and Jamie are pulling snacks out of his cabinets when your phones ding at the same time. It’s Keeley on your groupchat.

Can’t make it babes, something’s come up.

You make a comment involving the words “Roy Kent,” and riffing on her excuse, which makes Jamie laugh.

“I guess I’ll head back to mine,” you say, but Jamie tilts his head and says, “Or you could just… stay,” so you do.

You’re on his couch again, like the night you stopped hating him: your back agains his chest as you rub your thumb absentmindedly on his tattooed forearm.

You’re midway through the movie and explaining to Jamie the limited plausibility of it happening in real life, when he says a soft, oh shit as you pause to take a breath.

“What?” you say, sitting up. “Is everything alright?”

Jamie rubs a hand across his face. “You’re gonna fucking hate me again.”

You squint. “Not sure that’s possible. You’ve got too much dirt on me.”

Jamie just groans. “Nah, you’ll hate me. But I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

He grabs your hand and looks you straight in your eyes, giving you goosebumps.

“I’m fucking in love with you,” he says, and your brain still functions just enough to crash your lips into his.

You’re on top of him and his fingers are tangled in your hair, but as your fingers ghost his waistband, he stills and grabs your hand.

You freeze too, afraid you’ve crossed a line, but Jamie says, “I’m not fucking you for the first time on my couch. We’re going to do this proper,” and then he’s whisking you off your feet and up the stairs.

—

You know that fucking someone you work with is a line you said you’d never cross. But he was your neighbor first, and you’re in love, so it doesn’t count. You’re lying on Jamie’s bed gasping for air after god knows how long and all you can say is, “fuck me.”

Jamie smirks. “Thought I just did, babe, but I’ll go again,” and you’re seeing stars for the third time that night.

He’s sucking a line across your collarbone when you say, “Wait!”

Jamie is off of you in a moment, and you feel strangely empty.

“You alright?” he asks, all concern.

“I never said it back,” you explain. Jamie’s still confused.

“I love you too. You said you’re fucking in love with me. I’m in love with you too. Just thought I should make it clear.” 

Jamie’s looking at you all strange again, eyes dark, so you roll him back on top and let him devour you.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine

[onskepa]

Left behind: Prologue

Here is the first of many chapters for the long awaited series! Enjoy!

Left behind series

----------------

Jake’s pov

Earth has always been our home. Us, humans. And like parasites, we leeched off of our provider. Always wanting more and never getting our fill. And now, what made us humans, is dying. There is little to no chance of saving it. 

As earth dies, so does the human spirit. Over mass population, consumption, greed. It is clearly taking a toll on all of us. Whenever something pure, something untouched is found, the greed of humanity taints it. Corrupt it. 

As is the youth of our children. 

With what hopes and dreams the kids have are instantly killed. The adults are blunt and cut throat in telling kids today there is no hope for earth. Being molded to think one way, molded to be fitted in a box and not have any form of creativity. To think of a certain way. 

And it is disgusting. 

Third  POV 

After a nasty fight at the bar, Jake went home. He got the money, less than last week but it's enough for the both of them. 

Yes, both. 

After being discharged from the marines after his life changing incident, Jake sully didn't have a clear vision of what to do. Learning that his new life will contain him in a wheelchair, Jake's mind darkened and stayed like that for a while. Dull and colorless were his day. 

Would go to bars and make a fool of himself if it meant getting some attention and money for more booze. Made many mistakes in his dark days. Mistakes that aren't so easy to take back. Many regrets and doubts. But there was one thing that Jake would never see as an accident or a mistake, was his only reason to live. 

His daughter. 

A little angel sent from above to take him out of his dark days. 

Jake could barely remember the women he spent the night that conceived his child. Some faceless lady that gifted him his child. Really the only good thing left in his life. And because of his little star, did Jake push on. Still not making good choices, but hard ones to make it by.

Jake’s pov

The door opened and I pushed myself inside. Home sweet home. A small apartment, not the best, but its plenty. 

“Daddy daddy daddy!!” I can hear my little girl call out to me. 

Turning, I caught her just in time. Quickly climbing on my lap, her little arms hugging me. “I missed you daddy!” she tells me. I couldn't help but smile widely. My little angel, my little star, a gift from above. 

“Oooh I missed you too, have you been good for Misses Morve?” I asked her, moving her little messy hair away to look at her beautiful blue eyes. She nodded fast. And on cue, the kind lady we have as our neighbor came to us. 

A nice little old lady across from our door. 

“She has been so good, I am surprised she hasn't caused any trouble, '' Misses Morve tells me. “Thank you, you don't have to watch over her tomorrow. I'm staying in” I was informed. Saying our farewells, she left our place. 

My little girl turned back to me, “daddy! I saw on the hologram that the tigers came back from the dead! I saw them and they looked so cuuuuuuute!!” 

Animals has always been her favorite thing to learn about. I buy second hand books for her. School has become too expensive for an average family. So I try my best to teach her what I know. 

“Really? Maybe one day we can go see them together” I tell her. Her eyes sparkle in excitement, cheering and clapping. Letting her chat away of what we can do should one day we go to the zoo. 

I know it might not happen, but nothing wrong with giving a little hope right? 

Third pov 

As the father-daughter duo chatted, a sudden knock was hard on the door. Both stood silent, misses Morve just left, Jake wasn't expecting anyone else. 

Jake gave his daughter a look and quickly she left to go hide in a cabinet. Jake grabs a gun hidden from a shelf and preps it. As he got closer, another knock was heard. “Who is it?” he asks loudly. 

“Is this Jake sully’s residence?” A voice was heard. 

“Who are you?” Jake asks. 

“We are from the RDA. We came to look for Jake sully. It is urgent we speak to him”. 

Aaaaaaaand that is all for this one! Hope you all like it cause there will be more chapters in the future! Until next time! see ya!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #lo'ak #kiri #jake sully #neteyam sully #jake sully x daughter #jake sully x daughter reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader x neytiri #jake sully x reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #neytiri #avatar twow #neytiri x human reader #neytiri x reader #neytiri x jake #neytiri x y/n #neytiri x you #neytiri x oc #neytiri x daughter!reader #kiri x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister reader #neteyam x human reader

[ijustwanttoreadangst]

Never forget

Summery : he will never forget and he will regret the choices he made until his last breath.

NOT EDITED

Angst

~ Aemond Targaryen x fem-OC-Reader ~

8 hours earlier

-

After everything we have been through why has it come to this? why wasn’t I good enough? I gave him heirs I gave him my body, my soul, my happiness, my life. Why has it come to this? Does he know even know I know if his sins does he even care? Obviously not as he got the woman pregnant.

I get out a half scoff half laugh as tears sting my lower lash line. Shaking my head I stare into the fire that warms this unnervingly cold room and wait, wait on this uncomfortable chair I had told him time and time again to get rid of but was constantly ignored. Has it always been like this? I filling his needs while he ignores mine?

I have to stop my mind from going to the past not wanting to drive myself crazy with everything that has happened. Taking a deep breath I let my tears disappear from my eyes as my face take a new form a look of nothing, void.

It was hours that I waited to hear the unmistakable roar of vhagar but eventually I did, what normally be a feeling of relief and happiness has turned into rage and dread.

It didn’t take him long to rush into our shared chamber concerned with myself and the babe I carry as I did not greet him upon his return. As soon as he set his sights on me he could tell something was wrong.

“My love, are you well? Is it the babe?” He asked concerned but was it really concern or just false pleasantries I did not know anymore. My face still voice of emotion I stood up my large belly making it a difficult but manageable.

“You call yourself a man of duty and honour correct?” I ask getting a confused ‘of course’ in reply making me let out a hmm as I whisper. “Liar.”

“What?” He asked still confused with my hostility towards him. “Alys rivers is with child, I was surprised to hear as she is a bastard but you will not believe what surprised me even more, husband.”

I finally turn to him, his eyes flashing many emotions I knew I had got my answer but I wanted him to admit it admit his infidelity. “What, my love?” His voice cracking trying to conceal his true emotions.

I let out a laugh making his eyes widen. “Oh you will not believe this my heart, a man with white long hair has been spotted numerous times entering and leaving her chamber oh and here is the part that gets me every time I think or hear it whispered that man had an eyepatch.”

My smile wild smile slowly fades into something murderous. The man who prides himself with being untouchable is now backing away from me a girl smaller than him. “Tell me husband doesn’t that discerption sound like someone I know?” I ask finally stopping in my tracks watching him open and close his mouth like the fish from the dock when they get pulled out of the water.

“My love, you must believe me that’s not me! I would never betray you like that.” He tries to convince me.

“How long?” I ask knowing it’s going to bring me heart ache. The white haired man stays silent looking at his shoes. “How fucking long.” I yell wanting the answer I deserve now.

He mumbled a reply but it was so quiet I couldn’t make out what he said. “What?” I ask. He finally looks up to meet my eyes. “From the start.” He said his voice shaking as tears began welling in his eyes.

Realisation dawned on me in that moment the missed birth and name days were because he was fucking her instead of being here with his wife and child. “I hope that when you’re finally happy with this alys rivers and ur bastard child daemon comes and takes it all away.” I said with so much hate in my voice I saw him flinch back. “Get out, go back to your whore for all I care I want you out of my sight.”

His footsteps quickly approach me and before I can pull away the taller man take my arms in his hands. “my love my life please I can fix this. Please don’t push me away. I will do anything, I won’t ever see her or meet the child please I love you.” He begged over my shouts from him to let go of me.

When I finally got free him his iron grip made my way to the chamber door before turning around looking at him. “I am daenyra Targaryen, daughter of daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce. The next time you touch me will be last time you have hands.”

And I left leaving him crumbling in the mess he had created.

4 hours earlier

-

“Hop up my little love. You can do it.” I encourage my son as I helped him on my dragon before getting up myself. I tightened the saddle straps around baelor and myself before I start giving commands to the black dragon under us.

“Serve me, cannibal. Fly.” I command as he descends off the grown and into the sky. “Take us to dragonstone.” He lets out a growl in acknowledgment as he flys into that direction. It was difficult getting out of the keep without being seen but surprisingly I did it.

I move try to move my body to a angle so I could see the look plastered on my sons face but it being difficult as my pregnant belly in the way but I manage to get glimpses of the wide eyes and the smile that could light up the seven kingdoms.

We weren’t far from dragonstone as the dragon let out a happy roar happy to be going home after all this time. But the happiness was short lived from the thing i have been dreading being followed.

“Daenyra stop please. This doesn’t have to be difficult.” Aemond yelled out as him and his dragon gained on us. My eyes go wide as I start commanding cannibal to fly faster and lose them. Understanding my commands the dragon lets himself drop lower in a way to get them off our tail.

But it didn’t works it made the man chasing us angry as he starts to yell making vhagar return his feeling of anger. But as we fly faster hope filled my heart thinking we lost them.

Oh how wrong I was.

Without warning vhagar flew up in front of us making baelor scream and cannibal turn away from dragonstone and closer to storms end. It felt like déjà vu. The sudden rain hitting my skin like little knives making me hold my son closer to try and keep it from hitting him.

I could tell all of this was scaring my little boy. “Close your eyes my sweet boy, you will be alright mothers got you, you don’t need to be scared while I’m here.” I whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Holding him so tightly as he lays his head back onto my chest while tears flow down my cheeks mixing themselves into the rain. “I love you my sweet boy and you my sweet girl, I will love you forever.”

It felt like forever before it was over. The cries of terror the screams.

Cannibal is a wild dragon and his rider his first rider was threatened he had to protect his rider and the children. the two dragons attacked each other Aemonds and my pleas for the dragons to stop fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until the wrong move was made Aemond let his anger before consuming his dragon just like what he had done with the tragedy of Lucaerys.

The last thing I saw was the unforgiving sight of dragon fire before it was over. I held my child and covered his eyes not wanting the last thing he sees being so upsetting but at least I can still be with my children just not in the way I wanted.

Now

-

The sound of cannibals loud pained roars shook the walls of dragonstone.

Daemon stood across the field from the black dragon that is wailing at the loss of his rider and his riders children.

Daemon had never felt like this before the rage and depression that he feels as he gazes at the burnt corpses of his baby, his little girl and grandchildren wasn’t like anything he had ever felt. He knew one thing and one thing only.

Aemond Targaryen will pay and his little girl

Will be avenged

#aemond angst #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #daemon targeryan

[beiasluv]

hi im in love with ur writing

anyway

my bby boy neteyam and aonung need to be happy because that last fic destroyed me, what would happen if reader survived and the sully family just cling to her for days same with aonung

a/n: glad to hear that people are suffering (just joking 😳, writing that took a part of my soul as well) anyways, fluff to the rescue 🤍 / this would be a continuation of part 1 but just imagine and do your own editing that you survived

masterlist

enjoy! :)

surprise, the sullys were doubting if they would be able to save you in time. neteyam sprinting to the village on his ilu and holding on to your body as fast as he could

while his family are fighting against the demon-blooded na’vi, he couldn’t muster up a will to go one glimpse away from you. your boy was holding on to his dear lifee

ronal, the tsahik, sighed once more of the sight before her. another sully for her to save; but she waited no second, and dove right into it.

“boy, put pressure on her chest …now!” neteyam got into work as his shakiness submerged to his hand. as if everything was a blur, ronal finished her ceremony on your body and stitched up your open, now opened chest. the herbs and the smoke lingered in the air after ronal went out, but her spirit never left the marui. the tsahik, herself, cared greatly for whom her son adored.

your boi, neteyam is panicking to the panicking. he washed a cold cloth over your face every minute and every second he sees a sweat running down your face. big brother mode to the max. swatting every flies that dared to touch you.

he would tell stories, make jokes, and laughing by himself to preserve his sanity. admiring your face, something he wouldn’t do while you are awake. unexpected sobs and tears, here and there. he waited for you until the end.

jake and neytiri came rushing through when they’ve finished. jake holding on to your body as tight as he could. pressing his hand against your chest, making sure there is still a heartbeat in you.

neytiri’s eye fluctuated between anger, sadness, and love. she couldn’t decide whether what to feel in the heat of the moment. her daughter, the daughter of the clan, the awaited daughter, was sleeping mindlessly on the mattress. she didn’t know what to feel. neytiri often broke down quietly in front of your marui and the sullys would comfort her.

our boi, lo’ak, peaked at your marui every. day. he would be too shy to go in alone and express his feelings towards you. when he doesn’t even know if you are aware or still coming back, he would break tf down. 😭

kiri and tuk, the girlss. taking care of you everyday, slayed. they would do your hair and singing lullaby. kiri would occasionally sobs but she had to stay strong for tuk. tuk would cry and lay on your stomach, maybe sometimes curling under your arms ;-;

SPIDER 👁👁 nah, he ain’t surviving. in the heat of the conversation, he did not choose a wise choice of words. now, he’s regretting his life choices. neteyam giving him disgusting looks everyday. lo’ak almost gifted him with a chance to go see ewya.

he still thinks you should’ve been left for good. quaritch made it clear to him blah, blah, blah. “if only one dies for jake sully, then we’re done.” no, we are not having any of your shi

ao’nung sad boyy. a certified lover boy, caring for your condition, as he should. always always ask his mom how are you and if she could help you again. tsireya started getting sick of him, slay

“mother, are you sure that’s all you could do?” he marched swiftly after her. “there must be something you could discover.”

“no means no, ao’nung, it is up to the great mother,” she replied swatting his arm. “you worry for no good, she is strong, i can feel that her spirit is mighty.”

“a sick lover boy, i see,” tsireya giggled. “don’t worry, she’s going to make it.”

ao’nung bringing snacks and flowers to your marui everyday as. he. should. i mean, placing them nicely by your bedside, and throwing them at neteyam. almost cost them a fight but for the sake of you, they agreed to seize the war.

he will definitely kill anyone who mocks you and your condition 100%

until the moment they have waited for arrived, you twitched.

neteyam almost got a heart attack. he was as excited as a mom to a baby’s first kick.

“y/n! y/n! thank the great mother! yes! my baby sister! I knew it!” he jumped around the marui like a maniac, earning looks from the villagers around him. the news traveled far and fast; moments later the sullys and ronal’s family were filling the marui.

“y/n, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand two times,” jake spoke softly. “one…c’mon babygirl…one more…two! yes!” the whole marui celebrated as if you were running and flying, but that’s what family is for, right?

everyday you healed more and more. your first walk out of the marui was like a flashback to your first walk. jake holding your arm, neytiri holding your other arm, and lo’ak holding your waist.

“guys, i can walk” “we know.”

lo’ak feeding you foods, 10/10

jake will spoil you, amen. his baby girl wants, she will get. you don’t even have to move an inch to get something you want.

kiri and tuk are not as protective, which you appreciated a lot, but they are always supportive. kiri will encourage you to take a dip in the ocean, playing in the forest, or doing the things you love to do.

hugs and kisses every moment they could. aaaaaa

family cuddling time. jake will hold you in his embrace and snuggled you close to him. neytiri holding you two. the rest snuggled in and you guys are basically a family ball.

the family overall is clinging on to you to make sure you’re okay. as they said, sullys sticks together, am i right.

ao’nunggggg

they day you woke up he was so happy, running down the village to your marui. got him blushing and shi when you met his eyes in the corner.

tsireya is so relieved when she heard you woke up, she thought have to comfort her broken brother while being broken herself.

ao’nung just clings to you wherever you go. he will get anyone out of your way if it is necessary.

he just loves to bring you out to the ocean and spend time with you, awh. practice breathing underwater and chasing underwater is a must.

once he realized he almost lose his chance. one day, he managed to muster up a courage to ask you OUT.

“y/n, you wanna see baby ilus today?” he guided you through the village. “today is their first day coming out.”

“sure, are you luring me to somewhere private?” “are you doing to kill me?”

“of course not,” he tucked a hair behind your ear.

…

“y/n, i gotta tell you something,” he gazed into your eyes. “i- i…”

“yes?”

“i see you, but i don’t know if you see too,” he sighed. “I know, i have been a bad friend to your brothers but i am trying so hard for you. and you sleeping unconscious for weeks had me dying-“ you placed a peck on his soft blue lips and held his hand.

“i know, thank you,” you giggled at his red cheeks. “thought you were cold blooded but your face is so red now.”

“hey! it’s just so hot here!” “i guess this calls for a slash in the ocean,” without a second word, he pulled you into the ocean and called his ilu. you guys rode it into the reefs and entered a hiding leaf.

“i see you, y/n”

“i see you, too”

lost of love ❤️ happy new year and have a great time! today’s a great day to take care of yourself 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar #neteyam imagine #lo’ak imagine #jake sully imagine #neytiri #neteyam x reader #fanfiction

[faintedlcve]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Mattheo x shy!eader( Female if possible) Where she wants to get a piercing/tattoo but she's very scared to. Mattheo comforts her and helps her pick out the piercing/tattoo design. Also the piercing can be anywhere you choose.

Now or never

Hii! So sorry I totally forgot about this request xx thank you sm for waiting!! I love this idea <3 this is a short blurb bc if I extended it it'd be a drag. I might make a longer version if uni gives me the time lmao

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of needles, not proof read and my writing lmao

Also I totally have no idea what a piercing place is called so excuse me using "piercing studio" to describe it if you know the word PLEASE tell me I beg of you. And in my heart mattheo is the type of person who pretends to like to be lonely but actually hates it and fears it.

Summary: reader decides to get a piercing. her somewhat rational, mild fear of needles doesn't help.

You stepped into the piercing studio, immediately regretting your decision. As you see that all the staff are busy, you take that as a sign to leave the place. As you turn around you bump into someone. Oh right. Mattheo came with you do you wouldn't chicken out like the last 6 times you went.

"Where are you going?" He asked "the piercing studio is here"

"oh erm they're overbooked." you said

"don't you have an appointment already for 5?" He question.

"yeah but I don't want to bother them" you replied pretending to be nonchalant.

"alright y/n what's really going on?" he asked fed up of your crap.

"okay fine you want the truth? I'm gonna sound so pathetic. I hate needles and this is probably gonna be really painful and this is not my first time coming here and trying to leave because I'm a coward and don't have the guts to get my helix pierced."

"woah woah. Slow down. You're not a coward! Everyone has fears!" Mattheo said trying to comfort you.

"you don't."

"yes. I do."

"oh and what's that?"

"erm i-" Mattheo's voice dropped down to a whisper. He hesitated before saying "I am afraid of being lonely"

"that's not irrational." You said.

"neither is a fear of needles. it's sharp. It's painful. But you can't hide from it forever." Mattheo said. "if you want it, go for it. it's now or never"

Hearing Mattheo's reassuring words you entered the shop and got your helix piercing. To your suprise it didn't hurt that much.

"oh that's beautiful" mattheo replied at your choice of piercing. "Did it hurt"

"not as much as I thought."

Mattheo's previous words of encouragement ringed in your head and you did something else that you were trying to hide from.

"Mattheo i- thanks." You said. And then "I like you" you blurted it out as if it wasn't a big deal.

"y-you do?" He questioned.

"yeah and I've been hiding from it and I think it's dumb but I didn't want to wreck our friendship and-" before you could finish your sentence and process what was happening, Mattheo's lips were on yours.

Sometimes in life you just have to go for it. It's now or never.

#daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. #sorry my hand slipped #hes so hot #hes so babygirl #harry potter #harry potter imagine #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheoriddlexreader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfic #marcus lopez x y/n #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez x you #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez arguello #fancast #deadly class imagine #i really hope no one reads the tags

[honkytonk-hangman]

Devil In Disguise – Drabble

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x JAG Lawyer!Reader

Summary: in which Jake finds out the female officer he's been eye fucking for half an hour is actually JAG.

Notes: nothing except some language really.

Masterlist

The aviator across the room has been staring at you for over thirty minutes now. Normally you don’t notice that kind of thing, you usually got stares when you were working, but this was different.

No, for the past thirty minutes you were practically being eye fucked.

That was a little less normal, especially while you were at work. Well, technically you weren’t working right now, you’d wrapped up your most recent case last night, but your transport off the carrier wasn’t due until a little later this morning. For now, you were sitting in the officer’s mess, and enjoying what was a surprisingly decent coffee.

When you stand to go get a refill, you see the aviator push out of his seat and begin moving toward you, clearly planning an intercept. You sigh to yourself, amused, but ultimately already a little put out by what you know is about to happen.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” his southern twang surprises you, but you won’t let him have it easy just because of that.

“There’s five thousand, two hundred and two people on this carrier, I doubt you’ve met all of them,” you snort, selecting your coffee of choice on the machine and finally turning to face the man standing at a lean next to you. He’s looking at you like he’s God’s gift to women, and honestly, he has every right to; tall, blonde, startling green eyes that regard you as if he were already fond, despite not knowing you at all.

“Five thousand, two hundred.” he corrects you, raising an eyebrow. You almost hate to burst his bubble, but you can’t resist.

“Five thousand, two hundred and two,” you repeat again, before pointing to the small mark of insignia on your uniform, marking you out as not a normal member of the crew. “Lieutenant Prower, J.A.G.” You inform him and watch as his features go briefly blank, before scrunching up into what looks like all seven stages of grief at once.

He straightens, all flirtation expelled from his posture now, and he cusses. You purse your lips, but smile, and collect your now finished coffee.

“Yeah, that was about the reaction I expected.” You tell him, before cocking your head, and giving him a sympathetic smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Lieutenant Seresin.”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him and his regret at the coffee machine.

–

Jake scowls. By rights, he should dislike you. He’s certainly disliked every other JAG lawyer he’s ever met, he doesn’t see why that should change now. It shouldn’t change now, he tells himself. But then again, he’s never met the same JAG lawyer twice, so already you weren’t like any of the others, but he already knew that just from looking at you.

Before he can stop himself, he realises he’s pushed away from the pool table and his feet are already carrying him over towards you. Just like on the carrier, you’ve been aware of his staring for some time, and just like on the carrier, Jake sidles up alongside you and leans against the bar. Unlike on the carrier, he doesn’t try to use some stupid line on you this time. He can’t bring himself to, despite the utter hold you apparently have over him.

“Shouldn’t you be off torturing some sailors?” he asks, choosing snark instead.

“Only on my days off,” you reply without missing a beat, this time being the first to turn to look at him. Jake softens just a little, against everything in him telling him not to, but he can’t help it. He returns your gaze and looks you over.

You’re still in your dress whites, though he figures you must wear them a lot more than he does, being JAG and all, but he’s not sure he’s ever seen someone fill it out as well as you do.

“Well, if you love your job you never work a day in your life, right?” he smirks at you, and preens when you laugh sweetly, genuinely.

Jake turns to the bartender who approaches, and orders the both of you another drink.

“I almost didn’t recognise you,” he states, not bothering to expand on what he means.

“Well, my devil horns and pitchfork aren’t exactly regulation, so most don’t see me coming.” you say flippantly, and it only works to soften Jake even further. He leans down on his forearms and fixes you with a gentler smile this time, his brows creasing just slightly.

“You aren’t used to people knowing you're JAG and flirting anyway, are you?” he questions, pleased to see he’s thrown you and your snappy comebacks off kilter.

Your shoulders seem to relax, and you thank him quietly as the bartender returns and Jake passes you the drink he’d bought for you. Your gaze has dropped now, and you meekly shrug, refusing to meet his eye.

“Not really.” you admit, and Jake feels the last hardened parts of him crumble, full determined to make you smile again.

“Most people think JAG is the devil incarnate,” he says, though he knows it’s not new information to you whatsoever. He leans into your space further, making you finally look up at him again, and he locks eyes with you.

“Luckily, I’ve got a thing for bad girls.”

#ive been watching JAG can you tell #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x you

[beybaldes]

my first, my last, my everything

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : “i could be your family” requested by the loml @onceuponaoneshotfanfic <33

content warning : readers family are a little mean because they are moving away from home, set pre-ted lasso era.

an : what a cute prompt :(((( domestic roy is something so personal to me :(((( title is based on the song of the same name by barry white !!

It was well known by anyone that had even heard of him that Roy Kent was ‘one tough cookie’ (as Ted had called him in a interview once when he first came to Richmond), and the sentiment had seemed to stick. But back when Roy first asked you out, you knew you were in for a world of romance.

Based on his ‘I don’t like anyone or anything’ aesthetic alone, you figured he’d be a secret softie and the worlds most hopeless romantic - and you’d been totally right. The evening of your first date, he’d shown up with 2 dozen red roses, kept his hand on your thigh the entire car ride, opened every door for you, pulled out every chair for you, and complimented you at every opportunity. When he walked you back to your door, after a night of being a perfect gentleman, he gave you the most searing and passionate kiss of your life, leaving without another word.

After spending half an hour sat in bed debating if his silence after the kiss was his way of letting you down gently, you searched to see if there was any meaning behind the 2 dozen red roses he’d given you.

The traditional romantic message of 24 roses is that of complete devotion, or “I am yours.”

You had no doubt you’d been seeing Roy Kent for a date, and getting kissed by him like that, again.

4 years later, almost each and every day of it spent together, Roy asks you if you’re willing to move across the country with him if the bid from Chelsea goes through and he gets transferred. When he asks, head hung low and his hands in tight fists, you can tell he expects you to say no. Expects you to explain that while you love him, and you’ve loved these last 4 years, that you can’t - won’t - leave Sunderland. He is ready for this to be the biggest heartbreak of his young life and have it ruin every other partner for him.

You say yes in a heartbeat, and seal it with a kiss just a searing as the one he gave you after your first date.

The move down south is long and tiring, but so worth it. You’re closer to Roy’s mum and sister, he gets to play for his childhood team, your work seamlessly transferred you to it’s sister company, and you were living in a beautiful house with the love of your life (who had an incredibly sexy shaggy mullet going on). Life couldn’t have been better.

Except for the fact that your family hadn’t stopped bombarding you with text messages about your move all week. You still had boxes left to unpack and they were already making you regret your decision. Not the decision of moving in with Roy, you’d go fucking anywhere with Roy, but they made it so hard to allow yourself to feel like you’d made the right choice when they were constantly telling you you hadn’t.

Every single one of them was telling you Roy would leave you sooner or later, for some model, footballer, actress or one of the spice girls. One of your uncles even had a bet going with one of his mates from the pub that Roy would fuck all five before then end of his career. To say it made you feel like shit would be an understatement.

“Sunshine, I’m home.” Roy shouted from the front door, kicking it closed behind him and then kicking his shoes off. He’s been doing press about the transfer all day, and he feels terrible having left you in the new house all alone to unpack, but he knows it’s just part of the move, there’s ultimately nothing he can do about it. Still, the only thing he wants to do before he has to go out for another full day of press tomorrow is curl up in your arms, have you run your fingers through his hair, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear about the new life the two of you are going to build together in London. Instead he is met with what seems like a cold and empty house. “Babe? You here?”

You’re sprawled on the couch Roy had insisted was way too big, but looked small now in the middle of the gigantic living room, lazily covered in a throw blanket and only wearing one of Roy’s Sunderland shirts. Even though you’d heard him come in, you didn’t have the strength to call out to him, especially not when your phone was still frantically buzzing against the coffee table every 10 seconds.

“Sunshine? What are you doing in here?” Roy places something down on the kitchen counter and you can hear it thanks to the main rooms open plan, and you can tell he’s getting closer to you because you can hear the soft padding of his feet against the wooden floor. “You okay?”

Even though he wants nothing more then for him to crawl into your arms, he knows you need it more then he does right now. So, before you can resist him, he pulls you into his arms, sitting the two of you upright on the settee with you in his lap, his hand in your hair. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Nothing Roy-o, just tired. Missed you.” You hid your head in the crook of his neck, hoping that if you burrowed deep enough into his mix of warmth and aftershave, you could hide from the constant buzzing of your phone. “It’s a big house, I feel so small without you here to share it.”

“Give me a week, sunshine, then I can be here all day every day until preseason. And then we’ll be on a pretty similar work schedule.” Roy pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, ghosting a kiss against your temple and the another against the shell of your ear. “It’s going to be perfect. You. Me. Here. It’s all going to work out, sunshine.”

For a moment, you believed Roy and it felt like everything was going to be okay, that you’d made that right choice, and that you and Roy were taking the first step towards the rest of your lives. Then your phone buzzed.

“Fucking hell, babe, you got a fan club or what?” When you didn’t laugh, Roy’s concern only grew, leaning forward and picking up your phone to see what all the commotion was. As he scrolled through message after message from family member after family member, his brow grew tense, and a scowl settled on his face. “What a fucking joke.”

“Roy.”

“No, seriously, they can say all they want about me. I don’t give a fuck. I never have. But about you?” Roy scoffed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you with him as he leant against the back of the sofa. “You’re fucking related to them and this is how they’re talking to you? It’s a fucking joke.”

“They’re my family, Roy-o, they’re just trying to look out for me, that’s all.” One of your hands moved to run up Roy’s chest, tracing around the embroidered material of the Chelsea badge right over his heart. God, did he look good in blue.

“Some fucking family, to treat you like that.” Roy ran a hand over his forehead, pushing his curls of out his eyes. You loved his hair like this, grown out and curly like in the pictures you’d seen of him as a kid. Maybe one day you’d convince him to push it out of his eyes with a headband. He’d look sexy in a headband. “I could be your family.”

Roy’s hand cupped your jaw, turning your head slowly to face him. When your eyes finally met his, he pressed a soft and long kiss to your lips. You melted into it, the stress of the week and of the messages from your family melting away under Roy’s loving touch. “You’re already my family, Roy. It’s like you said, me, you, here. Besides, you have been since you wormed your way into my heart on our first date with those 2 dozen roses.”

“Funny you’d say that.” Roy whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips then pulling away with a smirk. “Thought the new house could do with some greenery.”

As you turned to look at the kitchen counter, you saw what you could only assume was 2 dozen roses already in vases. It must have been what Roy brought home with him, and suddenly you wished you’d been feeling happier and could’ve appreciated them more when he first walked in the door.

“The traditional romantic message of 24 roses is that of complete devotion, or “I am yours.”” You repeated under your breath, a warm smile brightening your whole face. Roy’s eyes widened, as though he hadn’t necessary expected you to know the meaning behind 2 dozen roses, but he loved you even more for it.

“I am yours.” Roy repeated, voice filled with complete and utter earnest. “And one day I’m going to put a ring in your finger to prove it.”

an : Mwah!!!! Love you guys thank you for reading so far <333

#beybaldes summer sleepover !! #ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent one shot

[blissfulbarbie]

Of Reunions and Regrets / Joel Miller x Reader

Description: Joel's decision to leave the Boston QZ to find Tommy causes both of you to argue and break up. Years later, you reunite in Jackson but the ring on your finger is not Joel's. Word count: 1.3k

"You're late again," your voice is tinged with a bitterness that you can't fully suppress. "It seems like you’re always late these days.” 

Joel glances up, his tired eyes meeting yours. "I'm doing what I can, sweetheart. It's not like there's an abundance of stuff out there. I need to gather as much as I can before I make my way to Tommy."

You clench your fists at the mention of his departure. You had been fighting him on this for weeks. You telling him to stay, and him telling you to go with him. As much as you wanted to, you had friends here in the Boston QZ. People relied on you for help and your medical experience as a nurse. 

“Joel, you spend all your free time out there gathering supplies. I’m sorry if I sound like a needy girlfriend here but do you NOT want to make the most of the time you have left here with me?” You hated yourself for having to ask this but ever since he announced his plans to leave, you hadn't spent a single free hour with him.

Joel's jaw tightens, his patience wearing thin. "You think I'm not trying? You have no idea what it's like out there, what I'd have to do just to stay alive."

"I know that. But what about us? God, it just feels like.. It feels like you've already left, Joel."

He slams his hand down on the table, his own frustration flaring. "You think this is easy for me? You think I want to leave you? I have to leave. Tommy's out there, and family means something to me.” 

Tears well up in your eyes at the insinuation. You are not Joel’s family. "And what about me? Do I mean something to you?”

The room falls into a heavy silence, the weight of your unspoken pain suffocating. Joel's gaze softens, regret replacing his anger as he steps forward, reaching for you for a hug. But you pull away.

"No," you whisper, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Can you please stay?"

And with those words, a chasm opens between you both, a rift that seems impossible to bridge. Joel's shoulders slump, defeat evident in his posture. He turns away, his voice barely audible as he speaks.

"I have to find Tommy. I have to make things right with him."

Your heart aches as you watch him, torn between your love for him and the resentment that has built over this decision. "Then go, Joel," you say, your voice steady despite the tears that fall freely. "But know that you're making a choice, just like I am."

Your eyes lock for a moment, a silent understanding that this is the end for both of you. With one last lingering look, Joel turns and walks out of your apartment, leaving you behind. 

5 Years Later

Joel stands at the edge of the lookout post in Jackson, staring out into the distance as the wind rustles through his hair. It’s been 5 years since he last saw you but in moments of quiet like this, the loss of you is still fresh - a constant ache he carries with him. 

Ever since he left Boston and embarked on his journey to find his brother, he couldn’t shake the memories of you. He often wonders where you are, if you’re safe, if you’re even alive. He regrets so many things about the night he left. He wanted to say, I love you. I need you too. I don’t want to leave. But I have to do this. Come with me, please come with me because I don’t think I can do this without you. But instead he had just turned his back and left you in your apartment without a second glance back. 

Joel’s life is a monotonous routine of patrols and lookouts. But one day, as he stands watch at the lookout post, he sees a familiar figure in the distance. His heart races, his breath catches in his throat as he recognizes a silhouette that he would know anywhere. It’s approaching the settlement. It's you.

He runs to the gates as fast as his aching bones can carry him. Joel’s mind is at war as it battles with disbelief and the pure joy of seeing you alive and safe and whole. As you draw closer, Joel's eyes lock onto you. Time seems to stand still as your eyes meet for the first time in 5 years. 

"Joel..." your voice trembles, your lips parting in disbelief. "Is that you? You.. you made it."

He nods, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, sweetheart. I made it."

Immediately you both close the distance between each other, bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. Tears well up in your eyes as you hold onto him, grip tight as if you fear he'll disappear again.

"You're alive," you whisper, voice breaking.

"Yeah, I am," he replies, his own voice choked with emotion.

"Joel, I missed you so much."

"I missed you, baby. So fucking much and I’m so sorry for the way I left I–” 

A glint catches Joel's eye – a ring on your finger. His heart sinks and his head spins and he swears his vision even blurs a little. 

He pulls away, his gaze locked onto the ring. "You're... married."

You nod. “After you left, I was.. heartbroken, Joel. More than I thought I would be. I spent days just crying my eyes out because I thought you were gone for good. I tried to move on–” 

"You moved on," he repeats, his voice breaking. "And here I was, thinking you were out there, waiting for me to come back." He chuckles darkly, tears in his eyes. 

Your tears fall freely now. "Joel, it isn't that simple. Of course I wanted you to come back. I was shattered. I had to find a way to heal somehow."

"And marrying someone else was the way to heal?" he shoots back, his voice bitter.

"No, but it was a way to survive," you retort. "I thought you were gone, Joel. I thought I had lost you forever. I didn’t want to be alone and sad all the time.” 

Anger, pain, and regret swirl between you both, an impenetrable wall of emotions. The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating. It's as if the years of longing, hurt, and missed opportunities have culminated in this painful reunion.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Joel finally whispers, his voice raw.

"I know. Neither did I," you reply softly, tears staining your cheeks. "But I’m happy for you, Joel. I really am. You got your family back.” 

But look at what it cost me, Joel thinks.

You both stand there in silence for a moment, the wind blowing gently on your faces. The pain of your choices hangs heavily in the air, both of you wishing you had chosen differently. 

“Hey, you coming? You've got to check out the house Maria’s giving us! It's got hot water and everything!” A young man jogs over in your direction, smiling as he makes a stop a few feet away from you both. The glint from the matching gold band on his finger taunting Joel.

“Yeah just a second! Catching up with an old friend here.” You smile at him, keeping your voice light to cover the fact that you’d been crying. 

The man nods and retreats back into the house, and the silence between you and Joel feels louder now. “An old friend huh?” Joel smiles sadly at the floor. 

“Yeah, Joel. The very best.” You cup his face and give him a soft kiss on the cheek and turn to go into your new home and your new life.

-

Tag: @just-some-random-blogger

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fic

[vesta-ria]

No escape; Genshin x Reader SAGAU (Part 1; reader focus)

Hi everyone, how are you? It’s my first post and I tried to be poetic and deep but I’m pretty sure it was not good :(

GN reader (no pronouns mentioned; at least I don’t think)

Sagau imposter au, angst, hurt/no comfort

Fic below the cut!

⇨ 𝕀 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 ⇦

You were wounded, tired, starving. But they still won't stop chasing you. You have no idea what you did wrong. As for how you ended up in this situation... you have no idea either.

It has been 7... 8? Days? Weeks? You've lost all concept of time, all you knew was to run, to hide, to find any scrap of food that you can.

Let's rewind a bit.

Some time ago, you were isekai'd into the world of Genshin Impact. Before all this, Genshin Impact was your favorite game, your escape from reality. It's ironic how your escape from reality became your nightmarish reality.

The last memory you have of your actual reality was of you scrolling on your phone before dozing off. When you woke up, you were in the middle of nowhere.

You've read fanfiction before, of course, you have. You've been obsessed with this game for ages. Would you call yourself a whale? Probably not, but other people certainly will. The point is, you were familiar with the SAGAU genre of fanfiction. You knew how much danger you were in, and you also knew that the land of Teyvat will cater to your every need

You may not have regretted spending money on the game at that time, but that was you in the past. You've been chased all through the land of Teyvat. The nations of Monstadt, Liyue, and Inazuma all have you as their most wanted criminal. You're grateful - no, extremely thankful that Sumeru has not joined in on the hunt. If you ever make it back home, you'll make sure the Sumeru characters have the best weapons and artifacts.

You hoped to get some rest along the river, and as usual, the land of Teyvat catered to your every need. The tree you were leaning on leaned forward to provide some shade, and a cool breeze washed upon you as a sunsettia fruit fell from the tree. You picked it up and began eating, enjoying the rare moment of peace.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. Your rare moment of peace came to an end when you were spotted by the Monstadt army led by the Acting Grand Master. And so, you were back to running.

You ran, and ran, and ran. Where could you possibly go? There were people in the 3 nations that are willing to help you, but their leaders didn't. Sumeru was too far away there was no way you could go there. And even if you did, it's unlikely they would help you, what would they do? Say you're not an imposter and declare war with the 3 nations?

You had nowhere else to go, they had already informed Liyue and Inazuma of your location, and they were circling you.

This is the end, isn't it? You had nowhere else to run, Teyvat can't help you now. You knew there was no escape from this, but still, you hoped at the bottom of your heart that you were able to summon the help of the many creatures of Teyvat to save you, to let you live for another day. And just maybe, in that extra day, you could be teleported back to your reality.

No matter how much Teyvat tried to save you from your impending doom, they were no match for the 3 archons filled with determination to kill you.

You gave up, there was no other choice. They had found you, and they captured you, you didn't struggle, you didn't fight, you didn't attempt to flee.

There are five stages of accepting the inevitable.

Denial; "This couldn't be happening, I- I mean, those were fiction, they were supposed to be fiction..." is what you would tell yourself most nights when they stopped chasing you.

Anger; "How could you do this? I spent so much money on you, I DEDICATED MY ENTIRE LIFE TO YOU" is what you once yelled at them when you were almost caught.

Bargaining; "This is just a dream, a really bad dream. I'm going to wake up, soon. Soon enough..." you tried to convince yourself, but you knew it wasn't true.

Depression; You cried your eyes out, a lot. You saw no reason to continue. But you still carried on, with that faint hope that it would all be over soon.

Acceptance; "Fine, you got me. I won't fight anymore. Kill me, or do whatever you want. I'm done with this world, just get me out of here" is what you told them before being dragged out to your execution.

"Today we are here to execute the perpetrator of the worst crime that can be committed, impersonating our divine creator." You heard the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing - Ningguang announce to her people. You guessed the execution is taking place in Liyue, you don't remember the landscape anymore, you don't want to remember.

"The divine creator has not been in contact with us ever since the imposter has been sighted within the lands of Teyvat. It is only reasonable that we assume the imposter had something to do with the divine creator's disappearance." This time it was Jean speaking, but it didn't matter. No matter who was speaking, the content is the same. You were an imposter.

They put you through every torture method possible, they broke your bones and blinded you. You still couldn't die.

Why? Why must this happen to you?

It had gone on for so long that you no longer felt pain, it was numb, everything was numb. You can barely hear anything. When they finally pierced a polearm through your heart, you didn't feel anything. Just the same numbness. 

The voice in your head got quieter, and quieter. Until it was completely silent.

Finally, at last.

Peace.

HI EVERYONE, feel free to request some ideas. I have 2 other parts of this fanfic planned I just don’t know when I’d post it so stay tuned if you enjoy reading this :)

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #imposter au #imposter!au #sagau imposter #sagau impostor au #angst #genshin angst #sagau creator #sagau creator au #genshin sagau

[arachne4]

wesker x reader

you're one of weskers test subjects, but he offers you an escape.

Tw: wesker being a little obsessive only if you squint though, mentions of needles, implied human experimentation,

The click-click-clicking of heels reverberated in your ears. Barely audible due to the glass surrounding you, but it was always there. Always a faint reminder of where you were trapped. It was all you could hear, minus the buzzing of the fluorescent light.

And despite the buzz being so monotonous and boring, and the footsteps being the same, you couldn't help but focus on them. Your hellish chamber you've been held in for so long (You couldn't even remember at this point. You stop keeping track a long time ago.) Had nothing but bleak, padded white walls.

Then the footsteps, all but one, stopped dead in their tracks.

And a man entered your room. A man you were familiar with.

And as soon as he left the hall you could then again hear all the scientist get back to work.

He grabbed a near by clip board and walked up to the wall of bullet proof glass in front of you. Staring at you with... Awe? Idolization? It was hard to tell with his glasses, but he seemed almost in a trance as he stared at you.

"the results from you last test came back." He announced as he flipped through the few sheets of paperwork. From your place in your room you couldn't read them, but recalling the last time anyone was in here it was probably about your blood.

"and now I have an offer to make with you."

He set the clipboard down and walked up to the glass, hands behind his back while he stared you down as if you were prey.

"you can either willingly accept uroboros and assist in my new world." His voice boomed through the room, begging for attention. "Or..." He paused, drawing out the silence for what seemed to be dramatic effect. "You can unwillingly accept uroboros and stay in this cell like you have for the last few months."

All you did was stare at him, his announcement being unexpected. You couldn't refuse a way of escape, but what the hell did he mean by 'accept uroboros'?

"pick your answer, dear. Time is ticking." He tapped his foot impatiently, judging you to make the most meaningful decision in your life.

"the first option. Can't deal with this shit hole anymore."

"Good choice." Wesker pressed a few button on a keypad outside your cell, and the cuffs on your wrists fell off and the door to your chamber unlocked.

"I can assure you, you're not going to regret this."

Might make a few more parts or something, don't wanna just leave this off in a cliff hanger like that

#albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #albert wesker #Future yandere Wesker probs #yandere wesker

[doodle-pops]

A Love That Burns

Celegorm x reader

Request: I'M SO GLAD YOU OPENED THE REQUESTS NONNY!!!!!! You are an absolutely wonderful writer, I eat every one of your writing like the best steak ever🥺🥺 I live for angst, so👉👈 Can i request a fem!reader x celegorm or carantir? Reader is the human wife of one of our angry boys, and although she loves her husband very much, she still feels insecure in relationship with the elf because of societal prejudices(( And the boy is tired and doesn't want to deal with anything and the reader has been subjected to some taunts and tries to tell her beloved about it(( But doesn't have time and her elf snaps at her and they fight a lot... And this hothead forgets to control his stupid mouth and says he regrets marrying the reader((((( Of course he didn't mean it, but now he still has to deal with the consequences of his words and his lovely wife's low self-esteem(( Happy or unhappy ending, your choice! – anon

A/N: This was different from what you requested anon, and I’m terribly sorry. I do despise not writing what someone requested, however, I got lost in the writing because it was ANGST, a beloved theme of mine. I did try my best to stay on the part of the dispute and angst theme, but the reasons were entirely different from what you described. Apologies in advance, yet I hope you all enjoy it!

Warnings: heavy angst, breakup, dispute, mentions of Tyelko’s physical altercations, hurt/no comfort or happy ending

Words: 2k

Synopsis: You've decided after years of following the leader, to make your own stand and create a new path in your life.

As you stormed into the cosy room, the door slammed shut behind you, capturing the attention of your husband. He sat there, aloof and unperturbed, even though the anger coursing through your veins was impossible to miss. You shot him a fierce glance, and he casually raised a wine glass to his lips before turning his attention back to the dancing flames in the fireplace. Curiously, Huan, his loyal companion, was absent from the room this time, offering you a rare moment of solitude to confront the silver–haired, nonchalant elf.

With the room now yours alone, you felt liberated to unleash a torrent of fury and horror upon your husband. “You certainly left your mark today,” you seethed, your voice dripping with suppressed rage as you rifled through the closet, yanking clothes from drawers and shelves. Celegorm’s back remained turned, allowing you to carefully plan your approach without escalating the impending argument prematurely.

A scoff escaped his lips, followed by an eye roll and a leisurely yawn. It was a familiar scenario, one that played out every time he committed some outrageous act that grated on your sensibilities. Tonight was no exception. He seized the opportunity to make it a grand spectacle, leaving some unfortunate young elf languishing in a jail cell, beaten and bruised. While his actions might have warranted a more measured response, your husband was hardly one to concern himself with propriety when his adrenaline surged.

“I’ve always had a knack for leaving a lasting impression, my dear. It’s part of who I am; you ought to know that by now,” he retorted with a snide undertone. He exuded an air of regal charm and charisma as he spoke, seemingly immune to the consequences of his deeds, convinced that they were merely lessons in “respect” and “superiority.”

A surge of disgust welled up inside you as you shot a sidelong glance at him while continuing to stuff your clothes into his hunting bags. His utter lack of self–awareness and compassion left you bewildered. The Celegorm you had once known, a carefree, compassionate, and admittedly stubborn elf, seemed like a distant memory. Well, the stubborn part was still very much intact, but the night he had sworn that ominous oath had marked a turning point. It was as if you had witnessed the elf you once loved killed a part of himself, only to be reborn as a living nightmare. At times, you had even tried to convince yourself that this transformation was a necessary response to the darkness lurking in the world.

Day after day, night after night, you made promises and excuses for his behaviour. “He’ll change, he’ll change. This isn’t truly him,” you chanted to yourself after every heated confrontation. Yet, Celegorm had a knack for shattering your hope and turning it into a cruel mirage. You had lost all your friends, and any family who had wished to reach out had distanced themselves, fearing Tyelko would turn their presence into yet another issue. Jealousy had never been an issue before, nor had paper–thin insults. Things that could have been brushed off and ignored were now carefully nurtured by him, allowed to fester and destroy your life.

You were utterly alone, with even his presence feeling non–existent.

“It’s quite fascinating how your idea of making a lasting impression involves beating up those who dare to voice their whimsical comments. Must you inflict harm upon people for their veiled statements?” you snapped, unable to contain your thoughts any longer, your frustration with his demeanour finally bubbling over.

“Are you still dwelling on about that?” he retorted, irritation lacing his voice as he tightened his grip on the wine glass, causing a hairline crack to snake its way along its delicate surface.

Furious and fed up, you flung the clothes onto the ground, your anger and frustration boiling over. You spun around and shouted at him, “Yes, I am! And I won’t apologise if it bothers you, since you never bother to do the same for me!” Your inner turmoil had reached a breaking point, and you longed to shake some semblance of compassion into him. His obliviousness to the pain his thoughtless actions caused you only added more fuel to the fire. “All you ever do is harm people for senseless reasons and act as if no one should ever dare to criticise your actions!”

Growing tired of craning his neck and straining his ear to hear your grievances, he abandoned the sofa and turned to face you. He remained by the fireplace, enjoying the warmth it offered. He stared at you with his piercing forest green eyes, a silent warning that seemed to say, “Choose your words carefully.”

“No one has the right to speak about my family and our actions! They have no idea what we’re going through—”

“Well, I do, because I live it every day with you, and your methods of releasing your frustrations are unbearable!” You yelled in frustration, your voice rising in pitch. “I’ve tried to help you, and you’ve pushed me away, so now you resort to displaying your insecurities.”

“Insecurities?!” His right eye twitched, and he strode across the room to confront you, his fists clenched in frustration. His bewildered expression betrayed genuine hurt at your accusations, as if he couldn’t fathom you taking jabs at his struggles. It was a side of you he hadn’t expected; you had always been the compassionate and thoughtful one. “How is me defending you and my family from naysayers an act of insecurity?”

He shifted his weight to his left leg, his hips rolling in a display of astonishment. You locked eyes with him, your anger still burning as he threw a seemingly irrelevant question your way, acting as if he had no knowledge of the answer. He had witnessed your slow withdrawal from him and his circle, even from his family, but he seemed oblivious to anything beyond power, glory, and the oath. The Tyelko you once loved and grew with had faded away, and it wasn’t just the oath that had changed him; his true ambitions had rendered your presence obsolete, especially if this was the outcome of your arguments.

“Tyelko,” you began with an exasperated sob, “I’ve loved you for so many years, through thick and thin. I stood by your side even when your father was wrong, and I was foolish not to see it. I endured the silent suffering of Formenos, standing with you through your transformations. You think I wouldn’t recognize your insecurity? You only lash out when things don’t go your way to make yourself feel better.” Tears welled up in your eyes, and a few escaped, staining your clothes. Ignoring his judgmental gaze, you lowered your head to wipe your eyes and nose, sniffling as a mixture of tears and snot streamed down your face.

“That still doesn’t explain anything,” he snapped.

Casting him a look of disbelief, you realised that explaining this to him like he was a child was futile; he refused to see your perspective. “You’re becoming just like your father in the later years of his marriage, and I’m forced to walk in your mother’s footsteps. I have no friends left because of you; they’re terrified you’ll harm them if they speak up about my new life. I’m lonely, and you’re not listening. I take part of the blame for following you, but you...you’re tearing apart the rest of my life.”

“They’re not your friends if they’re worried about me making advances,” he retorted, his tone dripping with an air of self–righteousness, as if he had just uttered the wisdom of the ages. “But seriously, how am I ruining your life when I’m just clearing away obstacles?”

A surge of rage erupted within you, the lid of your patience finally blown off, and your words spilt out uncontrollably. “Because you never listen to me! You always believe what you’re doing is for the best, even when I’m clearly unhappy! I’m lonely because you drive everyone away; you don’t offer me the comfort and support you used to! You dismiss my concerns, telling me I’m complaining too much or that I’m a bother. You pick fights with anyone who disagrees with your family’s actions, and it terrifies people! I can’t go on like this anymore, and I’m exhausted!”

He stood there, silent and immobile in the doorway, his face contorting in a mix of confusion and disbelief. His expression seemed to ask, “What are you saying?” as he gingerly placed the wine glass on a nearby shelf in the closet. He opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated, a deep frown furrowing his brow as he watched you spin around and begin gathering the clothes scattered on the floor, stuffing them into a bag. “W–What are you doing?” he stammered, his voice tinged with concern.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you groaned, forcefully shoving another set of clothes into the bag, your frustration evident. “I’m leaving. This life here isn’t for me.”

Your words hit him like a ton of bricks. Leave? You couldn’t be serious. Your home was with him, your lives were intertwined, and the idea of you leaving him was incomprehensible.

Stumbling forward in a state of shock, he cried out in anguish, “Y–You can’t leave me! We’re married, we have a bond, a life together! You can’t just abandon me! Tell me this is some kind of cruel joke, my love?” Your silence only fuelled his panic, pushing him toward hysterics. He knew that when you fell silent, it was a grave sign of your seriousness, and the waves of displeasure and dissatisfaction coursing through your bond were tearing him apart. He wanted to reach out and shake you, but he had no idea how you’d react.

“Y/N, please answer me, darling? I beg you, tell me you’re not leaving, that you’re just taking a break, perhaps some time away in the cabin?” His voice was filled with anguish and guilt, only now realising the gravity of your pleas as reality crashed down upon him.

You breathed heavily as you continued to gather your belongings, doing your best to avoid eye contact with his anguished performance. Where was this reaction when you first voiced your concerns? “I have every reason to leave, Your Highness. Removing myself from your presence is what I need, and I hope it brings me peace.”

“No! You can’t leave me. I—I love you! Can’t you see that? All those fights I got into defending you from insults and harm, it was because I love you! There was more to them than what meets the eye!” He pleaded with a heavy burden of guilt and regret, willing to get down on his knees if it meant you’d stay, but his pride seemed to hold him back.

Finally gathering all your belongings and slinging the bags over your shoulders, you didn’t bother changing into travel clothes. You’d do that later at a tavern along the way. As you moved toward the exit, Celegorm’s presence blocked your path. “I—…You have every right to be upset with me right now, and I know this, but… Give me a chance, just one chance to make things right! I can change.”

“Why didn’t you change before when you had the chance, instead of now?” He stood there, mouth agape, speechless. “I’ve had wonderful moments with you for most of my life, but these last few years have tarnished everything. And as much as I blame myself, you bear a share of responsibility. Now, step aside and let me leave in peace.” With that, you pushed past him, determined to embark on a new chapter of your life, leaving behind the turbulent past that had brought you to this point.

You didn’t spare him a glance, even though your heart ached with the weight of your decision. It was a wonder how his mother had managed to stand her ground and leave his father, but now you understood what separation felt like. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to leave your heart at the doorstep or cast it aside entirely. All you knew was that making the right decision for the betterment of your life was a painful, but necessary, choice. You only prayed that you would manage successfully on your own without crumbling to the floor.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

If you would like to be tagged, click on the taglist link.

#celegorm x reader #celegorm angst #celegorm imagine #celegorm scenario #celegorm #celegorm the fair #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fic #silmarillion angst #silmarillion scenario #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth angst #middle earth fic #turcafinwe #turcafinwë #tyelkormo #house of feanor #feanorians #sons of feanor #x reader insert #x reader angst #angst with no happy ending #angst no comfort #hurt/no comfort #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[midwestmade29]

Rectify ❤️‍🔥

My story came to life from the “one prompt a day” post from @urfriendlywriter you’ll find here 🙂 this one was called “touch starved.” I’m excited to see what ones are next! Also, you'll find 2-3 other prompts from @loveisanimaginarydagger3000's list in my story too! You can find the prompts here

( Side note: this was my take on someone being “touch starved.” I’m sure it means different things to different people, this was just what I gravitated towards.)

Word count: 1,839 Divider by: @saradika-graphics

If you are not 18+ years old, please KEEP SCROLLING. Minors do not interact.

Due to the explicit nature, this story is NSFW or minors.

Dominant male, unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion.

Matt was on my mind a lot today and I saw the writing prompts and my brain ran with it 😏

Matt Jackson rectifies your “situation” in the sexiest of ways…

Matt sat on the other side of the table with his mouth agape as he stared at you. He was stunned by your answer to the question he had just asked you, which made you squirm in your seat at the sudden silence that surrounded your table. His reaction to you telling him that you hadn’t been touched or kissed by a man in almost a year made you regret even saying anything. Crawling into a dark hole or flying away sounded good right about now! You cleared your throat in hopes that would snap Matt out of the stupor he was in, but he barely even blinked. “Matt, say something…” You quietly begged. “Do you want me to leave? I can have the waitress separate our checks…” Matt immediately grabbed your hand as you stood up from the table, finally showing some sign of life. “No, please sit. I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that!” he blurted out. “You can’t believe what? you asked sheepishly. Matt could tell that his choice of words didn’t come across like he meant them to when he saw you sink down in your chair a little. “Look at you, Y/N. You’re stunning. Any guy that doesn’t realize that needs to get their eyes checked! If you were mine, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.” His last words caused your cheeks to flush and your core to do a flip flop at the thought of Matt all over you.

“I mean there have been offers, but none I’ve wanted. They weren’t the person I wanted to be intimate with…” you hinted while never breaking eye contact. “I see. And who exactly did you want to be intimate with?” he purred, already knowing the answer. When you didn’t respond right away, Matt prompted you to explain. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging! Say it Y/N.” You bit your bottom lip timidly, causing Matt’s eyes to darken as he noticed the little indents your teeth left. He was the one squirming now! “You know who I’m talking about…” “Yes, I do but I need to hear you say it baby.” The grit in his low voice was incredibly sexy and it was making your arousal grow just from the sound of it. “You. I wanted you, Matt.” He smirked after his name fell from your lips, asking you an additional question that made you swallow hard. “And is that something you still want? To be intimate with me?” “It’s been so long since I’ve been touched, kissed properly, completely ravaged. But, when I’m alone at night in my bed, you’re who I think about while I touch myself. I imagine your hands roaming freely on my body, your lips leaving goosebumps wherever they touch…” You were cut off by the waitress when they came to the table to ask if they could get either of you anything. Matt quickly handed the waitress his credit card without even asking for the bill, clearly unconcerned with how much dinner was. Once the bill was officially paid for, Matt held your hand as he briskly walked towards the exit and into an Uber. “What are we doing?” you asked puzzled. “We are going to rectify your situation. We’re going back to my hotel room.”

Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach as Matt walked around you slowly, eyeing you hungrily while planning his course of action. There was a crackle in the air from the sexual tension that continued to build, the heat between your legs ever growing. You jumped slightly when Matt pressed his body into your back but reveled in the feeling of him being so close. He wrapped one arm around your abdomen pulling you even closer, while his free hand brushed your hair away from your ear and neck. Your breathing became shallow and breathy when Matt whispered in your ear, “Are you sure you want this, Y/N? You really want to do this and give yourself to me?” Your clit was throbbing for this man, your muscles tense with want. There was no doubt in your mind, body, and soul that you wanted Matt to have his way with you. You turned to face him, giving him your final answer. “Yes, I’m sure I want this. I want whatever you have in store Matt. Don’t hold back, don’t hesitate. Fuck me so good that I’ll still feel the effects from it in the morning.” A groan escaped from deep inside of him when he picked you up and carried you over to the bed and laying you down on the mattress. He kissed you fiercely, his lips soft and warm against yours. Matt only broke contact momentarily as he pulled your shirt over your head, and skillfully unclasping your bra next and tossing it to the floor. “Mmm, so beautiful baby.” He praised as he took each of your breasts in his hands, massaging them before leaning down and kissing each pink circle. Your nipples started to pucker the more his tongue flicked all around them, and you couldn’t help but to gasp when he sucked hard and released them from his mouth immediately afterwards. He lowered his head down to kiss you again, ghosting his lips against yours before pulling back again with a smug smirk, making you chase him in desperation. Matt was very much in control of the situation, taking the lead like he did with mostly everything else. He stood up, leaving your body longing for more.

You watched every move he made as he pulled his shirt over his head before undoing his belt buckle and letting his pants slide down to the floor. His hard length was straining against his boxer briefs, longing to be set free from all restrictions. Matt didn’t remove his underwear just yet, instead he made quick work of taking your pants and panties off simultaneously leaving you completely naked and exposed on the bed. Your body responded to his touch as his hands slid up your body, setting it ablaze every inch they covered. Matt watched how your body reacted to the slightest touches and he studied your facial cues making sure what he was doing felt good to you. He finally kissed you and you grabbed ahold of his hair to keep him in place so he couldn’t break away this time. Holy shit was he a good kisser! Your tongues danced together as your hands desperately grasped at one another, gasping into each other’s mouths like you couldn’t get enough. When you came up for air, Matt’s hand started trailing down your body. His fingertips lightly creating a path in between your breasts, down to your stomach and stopping at your pelvis. “I want to touch you, baby. Feel your wetness on my fingers. Is that okay?” he asked breathlessly. “Yes…” was the only response your brain could offer since it was in overdrive. You lower half bucked off the bed when he began making circles with his finger on your clit. You whimpered at his touch when he inserted two fingers inside of you. “Shit, you’re so tight baby. So wet and warm.” He murmured next to your ear.

“Please Matt! I need you. Fuck me now, I want to feel all of you!” you begged. After he removed his boxer briefs, he positioned himself in between your legs, aligning his length up with your entrance. The anticipation was killing you and your nerves rose to the surface again. You knew you wanted this and that you asked for all of it. You were more concerned with being good enough for Matt and making him feel good too. He took notice of the worried look on your face and asked tenderly, “What’s wrong baby? Are you okay? Do you want to stop?” “I-I just want you to feel good. I want it to be good for you…” you said, almost inaudible. “You are pure perfection Y/N. I’m so turned on by you that I almost exploded just looking at you earlier! Don’t think baby, just feel.” His words gave you the comfort and confidence you needed to proceed, and he kissed you passionately before pushing himself inside of you. At first it was a little uncomfortable since it had been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone, but Matt was sweet and took it slow, allowing you to adjust to his thickness. Your walls squeezed and pulled him, making him shiver at the sensation. Matt’s long dark hair tickled your face as it fell around you, his scent filling your nose and the look of lust in his eyes sending you into overdrive. Matt made each slow and deep thrust count, hitting all the right spots every single time! Even though his intentions were to fuck you like you asked him to, and his original plan was to rectify you of being touch starved, his passion and vulnerability still shined through. Matt interlocked his fingers with yours and brought your hands above your head, beads of sweat falling on your cheek as he lowered his body, making sure it was flush against yours.

His body blanketed over you, and his weight pinned you against the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of him and being this close almost felt like it wasn’t close enough. “Matt!” you cried out into the air. “I’m almost there…don’t stop!” He sighed against your lips as the pleasure was overtaking him too. The headboard was knocking against the wall with each deep thrust, the sound of your bodies connecting echoing through the room. Matt released your hands, and they instantly made their way onto his back, nails scraping and digging into his skin there. His arms were on each side of your head as he leaned against them for support, never losing his rhythm as he got better situated. Your orgasm tore through your body, the intensity of it almost taking your breath away! You cried out Matt’s name as the waves of your release crashed over you. “You’re so sexy baby…” Matt cooed against your cheek. While your walls pulsated against his length, Matt found his release too. You could feel every drop fill you as he pumped himself in and out a few more times as he rode out his release. You were both breathless and sweaty, and completely satisfied. Matt kissed you before removing himself from you, causing both of you to groan from the loss of contact. He laid down next to you, trying to steady his breathing as he opened his arms to you, encouraging you to scoot closer and cuddle with him. Your head rested on his chest, and he pulled the covers over you both so neither of you would get chilled.

Before the two of you drifted off to sleep, you spoke softly as you nuzzled closer to Matt. “I think you created a monster.” “Why do you say that?” he asked half asleep. “I’m already wondering when we can do that again…”

That GIF though…🥵

#matt Jackson #matt jackson smut #matt jackson x y/n #matt jackson fanfiction #smut #aew fanfiction #fanfiction #young bucks #the young bucks #the elite #aew #all elite wrestling #fanfic #matt jackson x reader

[lullabyes22-blog]

The Bats & the Bees - A Jinx & Silco Piece

Silco gives twelve-year-old Jinx The Talk

tw: disturbing Undercity environments

tw: messed-up parent-child dynamics

tw: implications of sexual assault and kidnapping

tw: gore

tw: black humor

"If it's a choice between a hard man and a rock, always pick the rock."

"Sometimes, child, life is hard - and so are men. The two often go hand in hand. So, let me impart to you one of my favorite philosophies: if it's a choice between a hard man and a rock, always pick the rock."

"What?"

"There's a combination code, Jinx. One for dealing with a hard man. If you can't find a rock, these are the next best things: your fists, your knees, and your teeth. If you have all three, then you can handle most of life's problems."

"You mean like a fight? You've already taught me how to fight. I thought this was about fu-"

"Do not use that word. It's crass and undignified."

"But that's what this talk's about, right? The bats and the bees? S-e-x? Why're we talking about rocks?"

"We're not talking about sex. We're talking about power."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

"Not exactly. Let's consider a scenario. A man comes to the Last Drop for a bit of fun. Maybe he's just there to relax, have a drink, and watch the girls dance. That's no issue. As a paying customer, he is entitled. But what if he's looking for more?"

"What if he wants to fuck?"

"Language. What if he's looking for trouble?"

"Well, I guess he should go next door to Babette's."

"Perhaps. But some men don't care what the venue is. They want what they want. And that's where three rules come in."

"O-kaaaay?"

"First, always know where the exits are, and which ones are closest."

"And second?"

"Never sit with your back to the door."

"I always sit like that when I'm watching the dancers."

"I've noticed."

"Is that bad?"

"It's unwise. Most of the time, you should be in a position to see someone entering before they even spot you."

"What about the third?"

"Third, never give anyone the chance to put a hand on you. It's a slippery slope. The first time, they'll put an arm around your shoulders. The second time, they'll rub a thigh. By the third time, they'll be venturing to bolder places. By then, you're halfway down the road to regret."

"That seems like a lot of work, Silco. Can't I just tell 'em I'm not interested?"

"Men like that rarely listen. You have to show them."

"Show 'em how?"

"There are a few ways. First, and most obvious, tell them to get lost. You can use as much or as little language as you need. But be loud. Make sure your voice carries. Make a scene, if need be. Men are natural opportunists, but most are cowards. They will walk away. A handful won't. And that's when the combination code comes in handy."

"Fists, knees, and teeth."

"Exactly. You can do a lot of damage with a well-placed blow. But if you're smart, you can escape the situation before it escalates to that point. Just remember: once a fight has started, it is never over until your opponent is on the ground. Don't stop hitting until he stays down. Understand?"

"Yes, Silco."

"Good. Now one last rule."

"Ughhhhh. What?"

"Suppose there's a man sitting at the bar, nursing his drink and watching the girls dance. He's smiling and friendly, and doesn't seem like trouble. He offers to buy you a drink, but you tell him you're only twelve. He says there's no harm in one glass. He's polite about it. He just wants to talk, he says. Especially with younger girls. They're so bright and full of life. You nod and smile. He buys you a drink. You chitchat. And that's the end of it. Right?"

"Guess so."

"Wrong. If someone uses that line on you, smash the bottle over his head."

"Um…"

"Men who chat up younger girls don't stay on the surface. With every word, they're sinking their hooks and reeling you in. The longer you stay in their company, the farther down the depths you'll be."

"Pffft. They can't make me do anything."

"On the contrary. They'll start with smiles and compliments. You're pretty, or clever, or interesting. Then they'll make up stories about themselves. How rich they are. How clever. How important. Soon, they'll be asking questions. Where do you live? When's your father getting home? They'll keep talking until you're drowning in their words. Then, they'll ask if you'd like to go someplace special. That's the moment to run. Because the 'someplace special' is usually where they've taken dozens of other girls. None of whom ever came back."

"What - like a serial killer?!"

"Not quite that extreme. More like a trafficker. Maybe a pimp. Either way, it's not a nice place. Never let them lure you there."

"But what if I can't run? If I'm already trapped and I can't get away?"

"That's the trickiest situation. There is a last resort. Not fists, knees, and teeth. It's riskier. You must do it correctly or it won't work."

"Tell me, please!"

"It's a kiss."

"Huh?"

"The last resort is a kiss."

"I thought I wasn't having sex with these guys."

"You're not. This is a fake kiss. A trap."

"Like, I pretend to kiss them? Then I punch them?"

"No. The trick is that you kiss them. Really kiss them. Except it's not a kiss."

"I'm confused, Silco."

"Imagine the man you're with. He's been telling you about all the wonderful things he can give you. He's smiling and laughing, and his hand has found your shoulder. Maybe even your neck. He's leaning close. You're frightened and confused. The best time to strike is when he thinks he's won."

"When his guard is down."

"Exactly. Now, let's say he has his lips just inches from yours. His breath is on your skin. You're uncomfortable, but prepared to strike back. So you kiss him. Only it's not a kiss. You're opening your mouth. Not to take his tongue - but take it off."

"Wait, what?"

"Once you have the man's tongue between your teeth, bite down. Lock your jaw. Whip your head up, then snap it down. You're not kissing. You're yanking. Eight out of ten times, you'll rip his tongue out of his mouth."

"Ewwwwww!"

"It's messy. But effective. It will hurt him terribly. But the real magic is what happens next."

"What? Does his head explode?"

"No, child. That only happens in comic books. In reality, when you've ripped a man's tongue out, the blood bubbles up instantly. Depending on how big a chunk is gone, he begins choking. As he spits blood and tries to breathe, you have the perfect opportunity to break his nose and blind him with a thumb jab to the eye. Then you run."

"To you?"

"Yes, child. If you need help, find me. I will always be there. I promise. But first, run. As fast as you can. Find some place crowded and stay there until the crew arrive. I'll find you and we'll finish the job together."

"So this is the plan?"

"It's one of them. It's not pretty, and it's not safe. But it is the best option I can give you."

"Um…thanks, I guess?"

"One more thing, Jinx. Remember this, always. You are under no obligation to give yourself to anyone. Not ever. Do not trade your body for love or approval. It is not worth the price."

"Silco..."

"Yes?"

"What's this have to do with sex?"

"You'll understand when you're older."

"I hate it when you say that."

"I'm sorry, child. That's just the way things are. Come here. I have a present for you."

"Woo-hoo!"

"You're going to like this."

"Is it a monkey? It's a monkey, isn't it?!"

"It's better. Here, look. This is military-grade mace. It was used by riot police on the Day of Ash. It's got a little spray can that shoots a mist of chemicals. It will cause temporary blindness."

"Oooh! Cool! Where do I aim it?"

"Eyes and mouth."

"Can I paint a picture of a skull on it?"

"Go ahead. I hope you never need to use it."

"Oh, I won't. I'd shoot 'em first."

"There's my girl. Happy birthday, Jinx."

♥☠︎︎♥

#silco #arcane silco #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane jinx #jinx #silco and jinx #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo