#fic: kiss your fingers forevermore

[strwbi-laces]

i wanna read fics where effie and monty are wonderful loving parents who get stuff wrong every now and then, ya know? like parents can have the best intentions and still do the darndest things.

anywho i might write a character study on effie and her hogwarts years, if anyone's interested in that.

[freyito]

"ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ" ⨟ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ

i know i was like just hornyposting and all buuuut i've had such a rough couple of days and everythings really building up. figure i'd sit down and write out my favorite "prompt". hurt/comfort... without the hurt, i guess. too hurt to write the hurt :P. essentially what the boys would do when your feeling down and ask to stay with em, of course. is this what im calling the boys now? yes. its MY fic and MY comfort, i get to choose the silly little name for my boyfriends.

cw: gn reader, angsty undertone, comfort, just fluff, bonus characters!, not proofread

⎯ Liu Kang

You do not even need to speak. Liu Kang can see it. You are hurt, near breaking. You trail behind him all day, head down. You actively seek his touch, small things, reaching for his hand, brushing your fingers against his bicep. You are afraid to say it, and yet, he knows.

That night, before he leaves your room to attend to his duties as Earthrealm's protector, you finally speak up. Those three simple words, so quiet, so soft. He does not hesitate to turn around. He is logical, he likes to think, but you pull him in. Within moments, he is in bed with you, his arms wrapped around you firmly. He presses his forehead against your cheek, and whispers,

"I will not leave you, my dear, I am here. Forevermore."

⎯ Bi-Han

Bi-Han knows you almost better than the back of his hand. However, he prefers to let you wallow in peace. He is afraid of pushing past your boundaries, and as such, he is far more distant. Yet, he worries. He worries with his whole heart. However, he cannot let it show. So he is as cold as ever, in front of the Lin Kuei. Strong, vigilant, unyielding.

Tonight, he does not let you go. He misses you so, and you have no need to tell him what you need. It is tender. He pulls you on top of him, holding you close by the waist. And yet, you still speak. And he listens. His gaze softens, tremendously. He looks as if he may be on the verge of tears. His voice steady, as he speaks, yet his face betrays his tone,

"There is no possibility of leaving you, no, not even in death."

⎯ Kuai Liang

Kuai does not know what ails you- but he must. He must know. You have done well to shy away from him, but he is hot on your trail. He knows that hollow look, devoid of emotion, too afraid to show any. Because if you show one, you show all. He does not smother you, no, but he does question you.

The questions stop at night. It is quiet. He is afraid of pushing you further. So Kuai Liang leaves you alone in the bed, with one last kiss on your forehead. Yet, he stands in the doorway. He waits. You speak. And he listens. All you say is one word. He retreats back in bed with you, pushing you closer to his neck. He runs his hands through your hair, calming you down. To still your beating heart. And he speaks with conviction,

"I am here, as long as you need, forever, if you so wish, my love."

⎯ Johnny Cage

Perhaps, Johnny is too much for you recently. And that's okay! He knows his limits. Yet, he finds himself seeking you out. He misses your warmth, your smile, you. He knows that he can be loud, that he can be a lot. And he's always given you space. Yet that look you hold, it is miserable. And he knows exactly what you feel. He follows you around, as if a lost dog, the entire day. He wants you to have space, but he wants you to say those words.

And you do, that night. Finally, those words escape your lips. Just what Johnny wanted to hear. He's got you wrapped up in the blankets, pulling you up into his chest. His hand rests on the back of your head, gently rubbing his thumb into your hair. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and whispers, gently, almost out of character,

"It's alright, sweetheart, I'm not leaving, not tonight, not tomorrow, not anytime."

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

You cannot hide that sinking pain within your heart, Kenshi can hear the melancholy dripping within your words. He can hear it in your breath, your actions. How your footsteps drag, how slow you walk. He can see it, too, do not be fooled. You stay close, unnecessarily close, you look up at him with such heavy eyes, you stay quiet. He knows. He is waiting for you to act on it, to act on the voice he hears at the very edge of his mind. He is a telepath, you must remember.

And so, when you speak your mind finally, he is all too eager to make sure you know he won't leave. He pulls you up onto his chest, his heartbeat even, soft, and regular. The moment is tender, and he lets your words hang in the air. Silence covers you two like a blanket, comforting. And finally, as he runs his hand down your sides, squeezing your waist gently, he speaks,

"Do not be afraid to tell me what you want, my heart. I will stay close, I will stay."

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao does not need words to stay by you. Night and day. He is glued to your side, trying to cheer you up with his charm. He does not give you enough room to sulk. He's dragging you along with him, even if it's something as simple as watching him train. To keep you at ease, to put a smile on your face. He is making sure everything he does has that effect.

Yet, you still ask him to stay when night comes. He does not deny it, and he pushes himself closer. As if you were not in his arms already. But he makes sure you know he heard you, he squeezes you, and lets out a soft sigh. There is nothing that will take him away from you, and you must know,

"I won't. Nope, not even tomorrow. I'm here as long as you want me here."

⎯ Raiden

You cannot keep Raiden away from you. The minute your expression is somber, he is following close behind you. He does not ask, or interrogate you. But he follows. He is on the lookout for any sort of thing that could have stolen his light from him. What has gotten to you, what dares rip the spark of his life from you? He does not know how to ask you, he is afraid that perhaps it is him.

But it is not. Your hand pulls him back to you by his wrist as you speak. And he obliges. He does not know what has made you feel this way, but he does know, that maybe even this one night will be enough to bring your smile back. He will stay here, as long as you need, as long as he needs. And he makes it known,

"Oh, my light, nothing can keep me away from you."

⎯ Zeffeero

Zeffeero is on you the minute your face so much as drops. Perhaps he is a stubborn lover, too prideful to admit that he cares deeply for you. But he cannot handle loosing your presence, his sunshine. He wants your attention, but does not say so outright. He will do that little thing with the water manipulation and the shapes to amuse you... without you asking. And when that does not bring the smile back to your face, he does not know what else to do.

His heart near stops when you tell him to stay that night. He feels so stupid to have skipped over that part. But he accepts. He tries to show restraint, however he is by you within a matter of seconds. He places a kiss on your jaw, before hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap around you, keeping you close. Just as he wanted to the entire day, and he finally speaks,

"Do not scare me so, my dear. I want to keep you safe, and I'll stay until you no longer want me by your side."

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Your distance is noticeable. However, Tomas does not act upon it. He believes that you need the space you have put between you and him and everyone else. So he does not question it. However, there is a void where you once were. His world fills with the same emptiness and sorrow you felt at your absence. He cannot help but seek you out in the final hours of the dawn. He is afraid, once more. He does not want to pressure you, so he turns his back to you.

You surprise him with your words, he near spins on his heels, a wide and beautiful grin gracing his face. He makes no effort to hide this. His happiness, his light has asked him to stay, and he would be a fool to deny them such a request. He practically throws himself back onto the bed, and wraps his big arms around you. He presses his forehead against yours, and holds your gaze. He speaks, quietly, softly, and you can even hear his smile in his voice,

"I am here for you, Drahoušek. I always will be. Do not be afraid to come to me."

⎯ Baraka

Oh, how Baraka feared this day would come. You have turned your back to him, the air around you rife with despair. He is not afraid that you suddenly dislike him. He is afraid of loosing your positivity. One of the very few things he has held onto because of his affliction. You make him forget all that is bad within this world, within him. And now, there is an absence. He does not know what to do.

But that night, you guide him. Through his own sulking, your words pull him away. Yes. He will gladly stay. If that is what you want. If that is what it takes. He keeps his distance, still. He will always be afraid of his infection spreading. But he sleeps in the same room. And just before you drift off into sleep, you hear him,

"I cannot lose you. Please, tell me when, and I will be there."

⎯ Geras

Geras has reason to believe the reason you have pulled away from him is because of his absence. Because of him. Human emotions are a strange thing, they are intricate, even more so than the dozens of timelines he has watched over. Oh so suddenly, you are turned away from him, too caught up within your own thoughts to voice what has been troubling you. Perhaps it is the fact that he does not have nearly enough time for you. That is the answer he settles on.

Before he can leave you that night, your pleas make him stop. They make him understand, even for a second. He was so sure you were asleep. And yet, you are awake, asking him to stay. He is unsure what to do. But, he must give his love what they want. What they deserve. So, he leans in, and places a gentle kiss on your cheek. His words follow soon after,

"I will always be here, my duty is important, but so are you. Know this, I am always watching over you."

⎯ Syzoth

You've ran off. And Syztoh does not know what to do with himself. He paces, he fidgets, he waits. He must see you again. But you were so hurt beforehand, and he does not know why. You have withdrawn into yourself, without a word. And Syzoth does not know how to comfort you. He knows you are feeling down, horrible even. Yet, he feels as if he has ran you off. His insecurities well up within his mind as he waits. And waits.

And the time comes where you ask him, you reach for him. Your voice quivers. Oh my, how could he have let this happen. He pulls you in, almost bringing you down to the ground. He wraps himself around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His nerves calm, in that moment. Muffled, he speaks, his words true and clear, if not a little shaky,

"I waited, my love, and I will stay. I will always be here. Every moment, every moment you need me."

⎯ Havik

Havik is apprehensive. He does not quite understand what to do in this situation. With you, his lover, in front of him, a mess, voice hoarse, your emotions addle your mind. He looks at you dumbfounded. He reaches for you, but his hand does not meet your shoulder. Now, you feel as if you are miles away from him. Space. That is what he understands, now.

But, the space he has given you is broken that night. You find him in bed, intertwining his fingers with yours. His scarred flesh does not scare you, as much would believe. His eyes are warm, peaceful for once. The words are on the tip of your tongue, yet you do not need to speak. Havik answers, regardless,

"Finally. Do not run from me like that again, I do not mean to leave you alone."

⎯ Shao Kahn

To return home, where you are not waiting for Shao in the kitchen, it is a nightmare. The worst is the first thing that runs through his mind. You are lost, perhaps. Taken. But he finds you, safe and well. Back to him, on the edge of the bed. He does not speak, but he lets his presence be known. He lays down on the bed, facing you, and simply watches.

Until it is time for you to speak, you look at him with such sad eyes. He is there. You do not have to ask, for you know the answer. But you ask, anyways. Shao simply reaches a hand out to you, and pulls you back in bed gently. Tonight, he can. Maybe not tomorrow morning, but tonight, he can. And he will,

"I will always stay by your side. I am here to keep you safe, do not forget it."

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung pampers you, right out of the gate. He hates to see you like this, so sullen, so quiet. It is his goal to pull you out of this feeling. Even if it hurts his wallet. And yet, it seems his plan falls short. He is disheartened, to say the least. Perhaps he might sulk, as well. But he doesn't, or he tries not to, anyways. He simply follows you around, now. Trying to lift your spirits.

And that only comes when night falls, nestled underneath the covers. Shang Tsung is still close. Extremely close. Yet, you can't help but ask, regardless. And he listens. He chuckles softly, and pulls you in for a quick peck on the lips. For a moment, he stares into your eyes, rolling your words over in his mind. His tone is sly, but his words are, for once, kind,

"There you are, my darling. Of course I'll stay. Who would I be if I didn't? I'll stay forever, if I must."

⎯ Reiko

Reiko wants to be soft with you, and yet, he can't find a way through to you in this moment. He does not understand why you've withdrawn from him. Why you are so somber. He decides that it is space you need, not him. So, he gives you exactly what he believes. Yet, he still keeps an eye on you. He wants to make sure you are safe, regardless. Even as you sulk.

You find him once more at the end of the day, laying in bed. The idea of him, of Reiko, relaxing, seems so odd. Yet, he is lounging. He is waiting. So you speak, and all he can do is look at you. He gestures towards the bed, and you do so. Laying down, he holds you close. Properly. His arms wrapped around the small of your back, your forehead against his chin. And he speaks, finally,

"If I am to say no, then I would rather be decapitated by General Shao himself. Do not ever hesitate to ask, you know I will."

⎯ Erron Black

Outlawin' and Gunslingin' is a hard trade. What's even harder is making sure you are happy. And now, you are pulling yourself away from Erron. This mood you're in... he's going to get you to snap out of it, dammit. And he tries. He tries real damn hard. He flaunts off his skills, just how quick and precise he can fan the hammer, maybe take down some poor bird from the sky. Yet, you still look at him, devoid of emotion.

Erron has all but given up until you find him in the bed that night. Somehow, you look more of a mess then before. And he just can't forgive himself for it. Yet, you still ask. He's dumbfounded, really. He doesn't know what to say. But, his body knows what to do. Absentmindedly, he pulls you into the bed by your hand. He keeps you close, yet still leaves distance between your bodies. His hand finds your cheek and caresses it with his thumb. Finally, he's found his words, and so he speaks, for you,

"Ya ain't gotta worry about me leavin', pumpkin. I'll stay riiiiiiight here, long as ya need."

⎯ Takeda Takahashi

You're quiet. You're so damn quiet and it's almost irritating for Takeda. He can't get to you, he can't break through this heavy, melancholy air around you. He's following you around, regardless. He's going to find out why you're acting like this, and if it's because of someone, he won't mind sweating a little. But it isn't. It isn't cause of anyone, it isn't cause of him. It's cause of you. And now, he truly doesn't know what to do. So he backs off.

Until you find him once more, seeking his attention. His touch. His comfort. Takeda doesn't deny this, as you slink into bed, behind him. You tap him on the shoulder gently, and he turns his head back to you. Before he can speak, you ask. The lightbulb goes off in Takeda's head, and suddenly, he feels horrible. You didn't need him following you around like a bodyguard all day, nor did you need the bombardment of questions. You simply needed him. So, he responds,

"Don't scare me like that, dammit. Of course I'll stay, but just... yeah, yeah. I'll stay."

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[wildemaven]

look at us | joel miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2748 warnings: 18+ blog; Smut, maybe even smut with no real plot, Nipple play, orgasm through nipple stimulation, praise, multiple orgasms, using arousal as lube, mutual masterbastion (f & m), cum eating/sharing, mirror watching, my horrible attempt at keeping a conversation flowing during sexy time, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself, fluff, established relationship, mentioned that reader is wearing a dress & bra but has zero descriptive features, can be read as no outbreak or prior to outbreak Joel, there’s no Sarah in this universe notes: this is a reimagined version of an older fic i posted and didn’t really like for some reason. Switched the characters and reworked it a bit. Smut is so hard to write for me, I just question the whole thing in its entirety and never want to do it again. But I love this storyline so much more now as Joel that I honestly don’t even care if the smut is wonky— I just want joel now. This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator.

It’s a heady sensation.

Visceral. Demanding. Gratifying.

His touch. A grounding force that burns through you, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.

Plaint and warm, your body blooms with a carnal appetency.

He’s emboldened by every sound he plucks from you. The softest whimpers that fall from your lips, kiss every single inch of his dewy skin. He’s forever addicted to your willingness to take what he has to give you— always wanting more.

Generous. Attentive. Steadfast.

Earnestness bleeds into a lustrous selfishness. The anticipation palpable, watching as you come apart in his arms, your pleasure is his forevermore.

It’s intuitive, the way he’s drawn to you. Most mornings, taking advantage of what little time he has with you, before work is pulling you both in different directions. Then you’re reunited for the evening and he’s making up for lost time, devouring and satisfying, well into the next day.

An endless cycle of being connected and reconnecting.

When weekends come around, he’s selfish. Overindulging beyond his means. Knowing he has ample time to relish in the closeness. Met with endless opportunities to have you near in any capacity as the hours of the day tick on, time he doesn’t take for granted.

Today is no different. From the moment the truck backs out of the driveway, beginning the several mile drive across town in the direction of Tommy’s home, he’s reaching for your hand.

Palm to palm, fingers perfectly intertwined as your hands stay connected over the center console of his pickup. The afternoon sun streaming through the window, adding to the already budding warmth that’s building between you. The conversation is light. Joel listening intently as you share details from your week, his thumb working over your knuckles as you move through the highlights of your story.

The remainder of the drive has a comfortable lull as the miles roll by. Music streaming through the cab, the lyrics provoking a wave of affection. Joel’s lips find the top of your hand periodically, his gaze never breaking from the road ahead. Your heart racing instantly at his instinctual gesture.

The gathering of friends— barbecuing, music and laughter, doesn't deter him from keeping you within arms reach.

Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back, fingers lightly dragging back and forth over your tingling spine, as you both exchange hello’s and hugs to the group friends in attendance scattered around the backyard

While Tommy is busy tending to the food on the barbecue, Joel and you are caught up listening to Paul, Tommy’s old army buddy and the newest hire at Joel’s construction company, share stories from his and Tommy’s time together in the military. Both of you enthralled by the recounts of close calls and embarrassing moments for the younger Miller brother, only to be interrupted by a flustered Tommy calling for Paul to grab plates and napkins from inside.

The minute you’re alone his hand is wandering south, grabbing at the meat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. It’s the first moment you’ve been alone since arriving and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take advantage of it.

You smile into his kiss, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as he leans in close, his hushed words fanning across your ear.

“You look so damn pretty in that dress. Can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” The husk in his voice nearly makes you melt further into him, not even surprised by the cool dampness coating the silk panties you chose today, just for him.

“Hmmm— your hands haven’t left me since we got here.” You muse.

“I like havin’ you close.”

“You’ve made that quite obvious, Miller.” You joke, before he’s silencing you with another less than chaste kiss.

Dinner is served as the sun begins its descent. The air dropping a few degrees cooler, has goosebumps pricking at your skin. But it’s nothing compared to the shiver Joel is causing you, his hand nestled between your legs under the table.

You find it hard to focus between all the lively conversations being volleyed across the table, dishes being passed around and laughter cutting through friendly onslaughts of fuck you’s.

Joel mindlessly massaging at your thigh as he talks. Filling everyone in on the projects he’s started around the house, while your brain is muddled with thoughts of Joel’s hands and only Joel’s hands.

You can’t be positive it’s a deliberate move— or is it? You’ve been with him long enough to know what a calculated man Joel is.

He leans forward to reach for the ketchup bottle, his other hand shifting further up your thighs, his demeanor is cool and even as his fingers brush over your clothed mound. His fingers slowly gliding over the very drenched fabric. You swallow a thick gasp as your hips cant forward on instinct, chasing his retreating hand, your cunt aching and desperate for more of his teasing.

The wink he shoots you as he settles back in his chair is all the evidence you need to know his plan worked.

“Look like you saw an infected zombie or somethin’. Everything okay, Baby?” You want to kiss the devilish smirk right off of his handsome face.

“Y-yeah.” Horny and desperate for you, but fine.

“Y’sure about that? Those perked nipples of yours are tellin’ a different story, Sweetheart.” He quietly calls you out. You glance down to see the thin fabric of your summer dress and lace bra are no match to conceal the hardened peaks— your body so easily betraying you is nothing new.

“We should head out soon.” You say softly, Joel nods immediately, the silent agreement has you eager for what’s in store when you arrive home.

The ongoing conversation among the others is now muted background noise as you stare into his needy eyes, your hand cupping the side of his face as your thumb traces over his plush lower lip.

“We’re headin’ out. Thanks for havin’ us, Tommy. Hope to see y’all again sometime soon. ‘Night.” Joel rushes through announcing your departure, pulling you from your seat, his body crowding behind you as he ushers you towards his truck.

“You’re not even gonna stay and help clean up?” Tommy pouts from his chair.

“You’re a big boy Tommy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joel yells over his shoulder with a two finger wave as the gate clicks shut, home and you are the only thing cares about for the remainder of the evening.

“Fuuuuuuuck— Joel!” Your mind slowly seeping into a deep pleasured state.

There’s little recollection of leaving Tommy’s house and the drive home, other than Joel’s unrelenting need to have you close at all times— no complaints from you whatsoever.

Joel’s firm grip on your hand when he all but drags you to the bedroom of your shared home, clothes stripped at the foot of your bed in a hasty fashion.

The accumulation of Joel’s fiery touches throughout the day were merely effortless foreplay, all considered and aiding in his profound efforts that have been unfolding since arriving home.

“You look so fuckin’ good. Look at us, Baby.” The low gravel of his voice is overwhelming, but laced with pure authenticity. You lift your head just enough as your eyes slowly flutter open, trying to catch a glimpse of what he sees in the full length mirror positioned on the wall across from where you both are in bed— a mere coincidence that it was placed in there when you moved in.

“‘M l-looking, J-joel.”

It’s exquisitely striking how your cunt flutters madly against the cool air of the bedroom. The sight alone is better than any pornography you’ve consumed together.

Joel sitting up against the headboard holding your body close to his. Your back firm and tacky against his chest, breathing in rhythmic unity.

His feet hooked around your ankles, keeping your legs spread out as he hones in on the two luring forms glaring back in the mirror, a view that will forever edge out his own fantasies of you.

His large hands hold the weight of your breasts with pleasing dexterity, whispering the most beautiful obscene things into your ear.

I love your body. I love the way you moan. Missed your pussy all day. God, you’re always on my mind. Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard. Louder. Fuck. Look at me.

Your gaze finally catches Joel’s in the reflection. It’s direct and overwhelming, his warm brown eyes flickering with a bold desire igniting a ripple of goosebumps over your body.

You’re both possessed by the new wave of arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, as it ardently drips from your pussy down to the bed sheets. Desperately craving to be devastated by this handsome man.

Joel’s thumbs swipe over your hard sensitive nipples, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. Your head falling back into his shoulder as you let the sensation fully consume you.

“You like that don’t you?” You can only manage to hum in response, which encourages him to continue his work over the pebbled skin.

“Y-yes. You know how much I d-do.”

Joel knows this. Well enough too. It’s a normal occurrence that you find yourself in this identic state. Your body buzzing and exhausted, molded against Joel’s. His cock weeping and begging for relief, snuggly nestled between your roaring bodies. His skilled hands reducing you to putty.

Rolling. Pinching. Pulling. Flicking.

Each thorough caress sends an intense and deep feeling of delirium surging through you. Building and building the delicate structure for an elaborate release.

“So perfect all laid out for me. You gonna come for me?. I think you’re almost there, Baby. Just need a little more, huh?”

“Joel— I-I don’t think I can this time. N-need— oh fuck Joel! I need a little m-more.”

You’re cut off when you feel Joel’s fingers faintly slide over your throbbing clit and bypassing it completely. He swipes through your wet folds. You think he might finally give in. Plunge one, maybe two of his thick fingers into your aching heat, caress your velvet walls until you’re coming undone. Your body jolts as he gathers your arousal on his fingers, then abandons the ache and returns to his previous ministrations.

His arousal slick digits glide over each of your perked nipples. The wet eager strokes have your back arching as you moan into the room, your body tense and vibrating.

“Joel— yes! That feels so good! fuckfuckfuck! I— I’m so close Joel! D-don’t stop!” You let out a sharp moan.

“I ain’t stoppin’, Sweetheart. So fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see you come, Baby— just let go.” His hushed words paired with the way he rolls your stiff nubs between his fingers is just the push you needed, your climax vibrant and beautiful as it erupts, spreading through you faster than you can announce its existence.

Joel watches you fall apart in the mirror. Your breathless state has his hips grinding against your lower back as he continues to clutch your breasts. The glimmering beads of sweat rolling down your throat and chest, joining the layer pooling between your bodies.

It’s the view of your cunt that nearly takes him out, empty and pulsating, he’s never been so proud of a sight. He adds the mental snapshot to his backlog of imagery he’ll store of you until the end of his days.

“God, Joel. That— that was amazing!.” You say, peeling your satiated body from his.

Turning to face him, you sit in the space between where his legs are sprawled open, your hands massaging at his calves. You take in how enticing he looks, laid back on the stack of pillows, a slack grin on his handsome face as he slowly pumps his hardened cock.

You’re completely entranced by the sight, all thick and tempting. Biting at your lip teasingly, a hand all but subtly slips between your legs and your fingers begin delicately tracing circles over your clit.

Husked gasps falling from Joel’s parted lips as he alternates his movements. Long languid strokes over the length of his shaft then pausing briefly, his grip stilled and tight around the base as the reddened tip slowly leaks.

You gasp as the warmth of your sex engulfs your fingers triggering another gush of arousal to trickle down your thighs. Your other hand still connected to Joel’s leg, grounding your floating form to him.

Joel's eyes scan you, absorbing your blissed-out state, his hand matching your own steady movements, rhythmically moving over himself, his breaths now emerging as heavy pants.

Your fingers enthusiastically moving in and out with ease as your hips writhe keenly in search of the perfect position. The remnants of your previous orgasm are still lingering, beautifully aiding in the build up of the next. Your brows pinched in pleasure.

The room is dense with sexual humidity. Doused in a mixture of the ambered vanilla candle you burn frequently and a sweet ambrosial musk.

“Fuck— how’d I get so fuckin’ lucky with a woman like you? fuck!.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, neck taut and nose flared as he tries to breathe through how good he’s making himself feel. “Why don’t you— shit —c’mere.”

“Mmm-ah! T-tempting, Baby. ohgod! Think I’ll stay put. I’m actually enjoying the view quite nicely from here. You look so good like this, Joel.” Seeing him accept your praise is a vision you’ll never get tired of, allowing himself to give in and take what he needs.

Your fingers graze over that delicious little spot with success, a cresting wave set in motion, the sensation causing your walls to convulse. A moan escapes your lips, paralleling with Joel’s own sounds. Your head involuntarily tilts back, as you ride out the euphoric moment.

“Shit! Sweetheart, I’m— I’m gonna— Hnng!Fuuuck!”

Joel’s fist erratically pumps over his length, his eyes locked on your naked form, ragged breaths and eager moans. Your eyes struggle to stay focused through the hazy chaos, drawn to his flushed body, paralyzed with an ample dose of desire as he nears his finish.

“Come for me, Joel.” You’ve shifted yourself a little closer to where he’s eagerly working himself over, encouraging him to let go.

He does— white hot ropes of cum paint his stomach, his actions slowing as the last few drops spill over his hand. He breathes out a deep sigh, giving you a lopsided grin as his arms fall to his sides. Eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and love.

“Fuck— now will you c’mere?”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth, now hovering over where his now softening dick rests against his stomach. You don’t break eye contact as you lean down and lick at the sticky mess.

“Goddamn— Ah!” Joel hisses, the warmth of your tongue dragging up the length of his cock. Lapping at the dappled layer of silky brininess covering his lower abdomen, purring with satisfaction as you swallow it.

“God.Damn.” You echo his words back to him, your lips move over his— he groans at the taste of himself still on your tongue.

A slow, content smile forms on your face as you tenderly kiss his neck, followed by a series of soft kisses down his chest and stomach.

“Gimme a minute— just need to regroup and then I’ll be ready to go again.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” Joel’s arms wrap a you and you melt into him. “Or I can draw us a hot bath and we can soak until we’re prunes.” A yawn perfectly placed at the end of your suggestion.

“Sounds like a plan. How ‘bout we nap then soak?” You sleepily hum in response.

"Love you, Sweetheart," Joel whispers, before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Mmm— love you, Joel.”

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Hēzīr, Ābrazȳrītsos (What is Broken!Aemond x Sister Wife!Reader) 18+

Translation: From Now On, Little Wife

The day she has been waiting for all her life is finally here. She is at last wed to her dear brother, Aemond, and all is right in the world. For now, she does not have to be patient to get what she's been craving for so long...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Smut (vaginal fingering, p in v), sadness but only if you've read What is Broken

Author's Note: This was written for @queen--kenobi 'set Table Sex Event but I'm so fucking late lol my b

I will be setting up a side blog for me to reblog fics to in place of a taglist

Hēzīr, Ābrazȳrītsos

The time between Aemond kissing her at the altar and leading her into the Great Hall for the wedding feast was a blur.

She was fairly sure he had kissed her again in the wheelhouse before it made its journey back to the Red Keep. The King, who, according to their grandsire, had been too weak to attend the ceremony, greeted them upon their arrival. She did not recall what he had said, but she doubted he had either, so she did not concern herself with remembering. And at some point, she had been undressed and redressed, for she now wore her second wedding gown – the one that had not had its hem dragged through the mud outside the Sept and in the castle courtyard.

But to her, it seemed as if only a moment had passed between Aemond pulling away from her at the Sept and him leaning in to kiss her again in front of the Iron Throne.

“Ñuhon,” Aemond whispered against her lips. Mine.

“Aōhon,” she replied. Yours.

Though the crowd’s cheering was their cue to take their seats, she could not resist leaning forward to kiss him once more.

“I see my wife is a greedy little thing.” Aemond was grinning when he pulled back, noticing and delighting in the way she blushed when he called her ‘wife.’ He took her hand and helped her into her seat before taking his.

By tradition, he should have been seated directly to their father’s right, with his new bride on the King’s left. But tradition had always been disregarded for them. Or rather, for their half-sister, who now occupied the seat at their father’s right hand. Thus, he and his bride were both on the King’s left, two seats down. She took the seat closest to their father to avoid her being on his blind side, and he loved her all the more dearly for it.

Despite the slight, all eyes were on them – on her. How could they not be? She was radiant, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the gold stitching on her dress. Her smile was bright enough to outshine the sun and stars themselves. And while their guests were fortunate enough to witness it, he knew it was all for him.

No longer just his hāedus. More than his zaldrīzītsos or maegītsos. More precious even than his raqiarzītsos. Now, and forevermore, she was his ābrazȳrītsos. Little sister, little dragon, little witch, little darling.

Little wife.

They were kept busy enough by receiving congratulations and praise from the various noble well-wishers who attended the wedding that they were hardly able to eat their meal, much less speak to each other. It frustrated her to no end. This day was about them, so why was she prevented from speaking to her new husband?

By the time Aemond finally leaned toward her, she was buzzing with anticipation. “Eat your fill,” he said, pushing her plate closer to her. “You will need your energy for tonight, ābrazȳrītsos.”

Gods, the effect that one simple word had on her.

No, it wasn’t just the word. It was who was saying it and how.

Aemond’s voice was as it was when they were alone. When they had taken refuge in their rooms to kiss and kiss and kiss each other in ways that were not at all proper for an unmarried couple. When he pulled her aside at an event to whisper in her ear how her dress was driving him ‘truly mad.’ When he had snuck into her room the past three nights to lay her gently on the bed and demonstrate – without truly taking her maidenhead – precisely what they were to do tonight.

Heat scorched through her, so fast and hot that she was surprised fire did not come out of her mouth when she took a steadying breath.

“You like it when I call you that,” Aemond observed smugly. She knew he had likely only said it because he knew it would cause this reaction from her.

She looked at him, then turned away. If she looked at his handsome face right now, when her entire body was screaming at her to kiss him already, to let him tear away her clothes while she tore at his, to finally become his in every sense of the word… Well, she would do just that.

A deep sip of her wine cooled her enough to answer. “I do, valzȳrys. Very much.” Husband.

He smiled and flushed, as well, but only slightly. Always so stoic, her husband.

“Are you well, my dear?” Their grandsire’s cool voice and large hand on her shoulder shattered the burning spell Aemond had put on her. He rubbed large circles on her back, as he had when she was ill as a child.

“I – ”

Aemond took her hand, squeezing tightly. A signal they had years ago devised during nights spent in the library when they were meant to be in bed – quiet. “Perfectly well, Grandsire. Perhaps a touch overexcited. I will take her for some air.”

Otto raised a brow in a way that usually meant he was suspicious – though she didn’t know why. Fresh air seemed to be a wonderful idea. Nevertheless, he nodded to his grandson.

“Come,” Aemond said as he stood, brushing a stray curl away from her face. “I think we both need a little escape, don’t we?”

She nodded with a dreamy smile before dutifully following him as he led them toward the back of the Great Hall.

“Do not be too long,” Otto called as they passed him. “This is your wedding feast, remember. You are expected to be in attendance.”

“We will!” she assured, pulling Aemond back for a moment so she could kiss their grandsire’s cheek. “I promise.”

Oddly, he was still looking at them dubiously when she looked back at him just before Aemond pulled her into the corridor.

“Where are we going, Aemond?” They had passed several balconies now, along with a few throngs of guests who attempted to offer their congratulations. Aemond hastily brushed them all aside and continued walking through the mazelike halls until the sounds of the celebration faded entirely.

He did not respond, only grinning back at her in a way that both comforted and excited her.

“Aemond…?”

At last, he stopped before a small, shadowed alcove between two torches containing nothing but a small table topped with dried flowers in a brass vase. He drew her close, turning his head to examine the corridor. Slowly, he looked back down at her, his violet eye darkened, cheeks flushed, and the corner of his tempting mouth turned upward.

“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he whispered as he bent toward her, sending another wave of heat through her blood. “I’m afraid I simply cannot wait any longer.”

“Wait for wh – ”

He kissed her harder and fiercer than ever before. One hand fixed on her waist while the other climbed to cradle her neck, holding her upright when she nearly fell from the intensity of the kiss. She hardly had time to breathe between kisses, but she hardly cared.

She was kissing her husband.

It was not the chaste kiss they shared at the Sept or the gentle kisses filled with laughter from the carriage. It was not even the hungry, desperate kisses they shared when he came to her room late at night. This was a kiss of possession and possession alone.

She was his, as he was hers.

They had always known it. From her first breath, they had known it. Now, so did the realm, the world, and the gods themselves.

“Aemond…” She pulled back as far as she could when she felt a familiar hardness pressing at her stomach through the mass of her dress. “It is not time – ”

“I know.” He buried his face in her neck as though he needed the scent of her to breathe. “But I cannot wait any longer, my love. I have already waited all my life.” He wrapped his arms around her legs and lifted her onto the table, the vase screeching as it was pushed against the wall.

“But… we’re supposed to undress each other,” she argued, even as she helped Aemond bunch her skirts around her waist. “You’re supposed to carry me to my bed. That is what we practiced.”

The sound of her smallclothes ripping echoed in the hall as Aemond tore them away, stuffing the scraps into his trouser pocket before fumbling with his laces. “I know what we practiced, raqiarzītsos. I promise we will do it all. But later.”

Any further argument she had vanished the moment his hand touched her, stroking the bare skin just above her stockings. The yearning she had become so familiar with in recent days roared to life. In an attempt to find words, she only gasped a short “Aemond.”

“I need you,” Aemond breathed against her cheek. “Now. Please, let me have you?”

She was his – his to protect, to care for.

His to have, in whatever way he wished.

How fortunate for her, then, to wish to have him in the same way.

“Nykēle aemās, valzȳrys.” Have me, husband.

His lips found hers again, claiming, devouring, worshiping, as his hand rose up her thigh to her core. He shuddered when he found her already wet for him. “Perfect,” he moaned. “You are so perfect for me, ābrazȳrītsos.”

“For you, Aemond.” She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as the pads of his fingers finally reached the spot he had previously ground against, pleasure sparking through her with an intensity their past escapades had not reached. “Aemond!”

He laughed, pushing his brow against hers. “Good girl. You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Good, now look at me.”

She had not realized that she had shut her eyes, but it was so hard to control her body when he was making her feel like this.

“That’s it,” he kissed her once. “Now, I’m going to do something we did not practice. It may hurt for a moment, but I promise it will feel good if you relax, yes?”

She would do whatever he wanted, so long as he kept touching her, kissing her, and smiling at her like that, his eye sparkling. She trusted him implicitly. If he said it would feel good, she knew it would.

“Tell me you’ll relax, raqiarzītsos.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

His thumb stayed on that delightful spot, pressing in tight, wonderful circles while his fingers traveled lower. He laughed slightly as he played with the wetness that coated her. “All for me?”

She didn’t understand. What was all for him? Her body? Her love? Her maidenhead? Of course it was all for him. “Yes, all for you.”

Her answer pleased him, earning her another deep kiss. “Avy jorrāelan, ābrazȳrītsos.” I love you, little wife.

“Ñuho glaesot rȳ avy jorrāeltin,” she whispered, her eyes scrunching shut as he slowly sank a finger inside her. I have loved you all my life.

‘Hurt’ wasn’t the right word for what she felt. Discomfort, yes. An unfamiliar pressure within her. It was an intrusion, but one her body was made for – made for this, made for Aemond. Besides, he told her it would feel good if she just relaxed, and he wouldn’t lie to her.

Indeed, it lasted only a moment before the feeling changed. There was still pressure, but it was no longer a discomfort. His finger – fingers, now, as he had somehow slipped another in without her notice – stretched her in a way that brought both pleasure and relief. It was almost akin to the feeling of extending her arms when she woke each morning to banish her stiffness, but so, so much more.

Combined with his thumb still playing with that little bud, it was an intrusion she gladly welcomed. Even more so when the pads of his fingers curled inside her, finding something that lit a roaring fire of ecstasy throughout her veins. She keened as her toes curled within her slippers, and her fingers tightened on his shoulders.

“Aemond!” she cried, holding him tighter, tighter, tighter as he continued to stroke her, inside and out. The fire within her grew and burned and blazed, white heat gathering in her core. “Please!”

But then he withdrew his fingers, and she whimpered like a small child whose toy was snatched from their hands. Her head dropped against his shoulder, her budding tears of frustration wetting the velvet of his tunic. “Why did you stop?”

He turned his head to kiss her temple, and she vaguely registered the sound of rustling fabric. “I promise I will continue later.” His hot breath ruffled her hair as he half-laughed, half-moaned. “And then, I will not stop until you beg me to. But now, we unfortunately have rather limited time. As you already know, ābrazȳrītsos, I am quite impatient.”

Something new pressed against her entrance, wet and hot and heavy. She knew instinctively what it was, but still, she dragged her head away from Aemond’s shoulder just enough to gaze down between them and see it – her husband’s cock.

Truthfully, she did not know what a cock was supposed to look like. She knew she had seen them before – seen Aemond’s before – when they were little and were still bathed together. There were even vague memories of Aegon slipping away from his nursemaids before they could dress him, leaving him to run naked throughout the nursery.

Those memories were old, and the details of their cocks had long faded, for they were not what made those memories special. It was the way she had splashed Aemond and he splashed her in return, and the way he would run his hands up and down her arms when they got out of the water and she shivered. The way Helaena would also tear off her clothes to run behind Aegon while Aemond shouted at them for being uncivil, and she simply laughed.

But she did know that seeing him naked then had not inspired what she was feeling now. What had once been the source of mischievous laughter now fanned the flames of desire in her heart, her blood, her core.

Her mind was too hazy to take it – take him – all in at once. She noticed each detail individually.

The sheen of wetness on his reddened tip. Was it from her or from him? Perhaps both?

The stones that hung beneath. What would they feel like as they slapped against her? What would they feel like if she took them in her hand?

The large vein that crossed the taut, pale skin reminded her of a river across a map. She wanted to trace it with her finger, with her tongue. Would he enjoy it? Would it make him feel what she felt when he drew his finger across her?

Unconsciously, her hand fell from his shoulder, reaching for him. He caught her hand with his, halting its path. But he smiled at her, his eye filled with something like pride. Even with his cock pressed against her, that look made her blush like a silly, lovesick girl.

“Another time,” he returned her hand to his shoulder and his own to her hip, “you may explore me however you like.”

She smirked. “But now, you are ‘quite impatient.’”

“Udrimmi riñītsos.” Clever little girl.

Aemond trailed his hands from her hips to her thighs, grinning wickedly at the shiver his light touches pulled from her. “Syt nykēlo drāmmon, ābrazȳrītsos.” Open for me, little wife.

She obeyed, letting him spread her legs as far as he wished, not feeling the burning of her joints for the pure adoration and desire she saw in his gaze, unfaltering as he pushed inside her with agonizing slowness. Though her eyes watered from both the intensity of their closeness and the single moment of pinching pain that faded after no more than a heartbeat, she never looked away from him, either.

After a moment and an eternity, he stilled, raising a hand to cup her cheek as he kissed her again, soft and sweet. “Aō syt jaehossa avy sētetis.” The gods made you for me.

“Sesīr aō syt avy,” she whispered back, her voice soft and her words for him alone. And you for me.

Aemond had done his best to make them both presentable again, but as they snuck back into the Great Hall, he knew his new wife was paranoid that everyone in the room could tell what they had done. Her sweet, dark eyes were still somewhat glazed with pleasure as they darted about the room, looking for confirmation of her worst fear. It only made him smile.

“No one knows, ābrazȳrītsos,” he assured her as he led her back to their seats – her legs still somewhat wobbly. “They are too consumed with their own gossiping and drunkenness to even think about where we might have gone – if they noticed we left at all.”

She settled into her chair, shifting slightly before smiling at him as he sat. The deep blush on her cheeks had reignited, and he cupped her cheek to feel its warmth. It was nearly enough to make him steal her away again.

He got no further than reaching for her hand before their grandfather cleared his throat, leaning forward to glare at him. “You were gone some time,” he drawled, “I was beginning to worry.”

“There is no need for that,” Aemond replied cooly. He plucked the carafe of wine from in front of his brother, pointedly ignoring Aegon’s protests, and refilled his wife’s goblet. “The fresh air and quiet was quite beneficial, I assure you.”

Otto’s face was drawn with exasperated disbelief as they both watched the bride down half her wine in a single gulp, steadfastly avoiding both their gazes. “Yes, I feel much better now. Though I appreciate your concern, Grandsire.”

Aemond held back a smug smile as Otto’s attention was drawn away, leaning closer to his wife’s ear and brushing a still-mussed lock of hair behind her ear. “I have not forgotten my promise,  ābrazȳrītsos,” he whispered against her flushed skin. “When can at last leave this feast, I will keep you in our bed until you beg me to release you.”

She brushed her lips against his cheek, savoring the shiver it elicited. “If there is one thing I will never beg for, valzȳrys, it is for you to leave me.”

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

WRITING MASTERPOST

i saw a couple of these and decided to make this with my fics! (updates whenever i post one onto ao3)

SPIES ARE FOREVER

the room, it echoes clear (with words we choose not to hear - tatiana-centric angst

MCYT

steady, steady, you know when you’re ready - skizzscottpulse ice skating together, sorta modern au

‘cause all i’ve ever wanted is here - poly mounders eating breakfast together, set during secret life

slow dance under stormy skies - empires flower husbands slow dance in the rain

you take me in your arms, and suddenly there’s sunlight all around me - treebark hadestown au (ft ethubs and scar)

the last thing i want is to look like a fool - scottpulse hurt/comfort, set in secret life

sometimes all you can do is say goodnight (and tuck your demons into bed) - multi-chapter; set in limited life, pearl getting nightmares about the end of double life (ft. watcher lore)

among the wildflowers and the lilies sleeping by the way - third life flower husbands angst, scott missing his days with jimmy before he became a red life 

in the darkness and the howling, i’ve caused his drowning - an in-depth version of the treebark decapitation scene 

i love it when you look my way - flower husbands fluff, jimmy making a flower crown for scott in third life 

he wants me (to be loved) - ethubs hanahaki, set in last life; bdubs-centric

why don’t you sit right down and stay and while? - gempearl on a picnic date 

it’s daunting to explore, but i want more - false joining last life 

we creep up on extinction - cleo-centric, hurt/comfort, set in secret life

kiss your fingers forevermore - femslash treebark fluff, set in third life 

meet the kids - martyn + clockers family dinner, zombiewood, set in limited life 

DOCTOR WHO

they’re right outside the door (and they don’t know) - tenrose + donna in a weeping angels situation, rose-centric

THE GLASS SCIENTISTS/J&H

“Oh, captain, let’s make a deal!” - jekyon mer au, multi-chapter

Suddenly Uncontrolled (Something is Taking Hold) - transformation scene for the jekyll and hyde musical, verryyyy old)

MY OCS

‘cause i’m six feet under nearly (and i don’t have anyone) - zombie apocalypse au

all these years without you (and your voice is still a symphony) - a crackfic filled with angst about sentient instruments that fall in love sometimes 

Adieu, My First and Last Love(s) - a songfic with its plot told by mitski songs, multi-chapter

SWEENEY TODD

Macabre - Swenett (one-sided, sweeney and mrs lovette sharing a dance after the former discovering the identity of the beggar woman; VERY old)

MISCELLANEOUS

It’s Like Slang…From England - crackship with some many fandoms that ive lost count of (fem johnlock helping regina george solve a murder mystery)

[at-lilbot]

And kiss your fingers forevermore

“There’s this feeling that courses through her veins, deeper than the blood within them. It’s ineffable. It’s a vivid feeling that ricochets in her skin and echoes in her mind. She can’t completely describe it, nor does she want to. The only pressing thought on the forefront of her mind is Amity, and the way she is looking at her in that moment.”

Commissioned art by: @nessaslatincorn​  you can also find her on twitter and instagram

Read fic on AO3:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/44449504/chapters/111801745

(scene from chapter 8)

[earth4angels]

When Mitski said

If I could, I'd be your little spoon

And kiss your fingers forevermore

You're the sun, you've never seen the night

That was actually me astral projecting into her brain, writing about Jace

MY FIRST TWO PUBLIC FICS ABOUT JACE ARE WRITTEN WITH LAUFEY INSPIRED OH MY GOD UR MINDFDDD U GET ME MITSKI AND LAUFEY ALL ABOUT JACE

[saxxxology]

when nobody can see | promo

PAIRING: Calian x Reader (Walker: Independence)

WORD COUNT: 2,013

WARNINGS: spoilers for the Pilot of Walker: Independence, smut, semi-rough sex, begging, implied unprotected sex

AUTHOR NOTE: This is my first fic for Walker: Independence. I happen to have ancestry from the same Apache tribe depicted in the show, so I thought I’d include a touch of the language as well. Read safely and enjoy!

You approach the door slowly, and you slide the little lock open to peer out into the hallway. Sure enough, Calian’s standing there, hovering a little too close to the entrance in an attempt to remain hidden. His usual stoic expression dissolves into a soft smile when he sees you, and you step back to let him in.

“What are you doing here?” You look down both ends of the hall, ensuring that nobody’s seen him enter, and quickly lock the door. “You didn’t tell me you’d be coming into town.”

Calian sets his weapons by your dresser, leaning the quiver of arrows up against it and leaning his gun against the wall. “Augustus had me track someone.”

“Oh?” You pour a glass of water and wait for him to toe his moccasins off before offering it. “What happened? Did you find them?”

“Lost him.” He downs the water in two long swallows and sets the empty glass on the dresser. “You didn’t hear about the bank robbery?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Funny how the day I decide to take off and mind my business is the day everything interesting seems to happen.”

He chuckles. “I didn’t see you onstage tonight. Are you feeling all right?”

“Didn’t feel like dancing.” You wind your arms around his shoulders when he strides up to you. “If I knew you were going to be here tonight, I would have, though.”

“Hmm.” He cups your jaw delicately, his thumb and forefinger lightly holding your chin as he kisses you. “I like seeing you dance.”

You smile, gazing up into his dark, narrowed eyes. “Maybe one of these days you’ll get a private show.”

He kisses your cheek, and you tip your head back when he leans in to breathe in against your collarbone. The feeling of his warm breath sends a pulse of heat through your body. “Dao yeo gonł chíí,” he murmurs against your skin. “That means you smell good.”

“New soap. Honeysuckle.” You smile, threading your fingers into his hair.

“I like it.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Well, I assume you’re going to, considering you’ve made yourself comfortable.” You frown. “But you never stay the night.”

He pauses, as if searching for the right words to say. “Haven’t seen you in a while. That’s all.”

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand gently. “You never need to ask if you can stay, love, my house is yours. Well, at least my room is yours.”

“Good.” He kisses you, then bends to scoop his arms under your thighs. You let him wind your legs around his waist, and he carries you to the bed, sitting back and dragging you on top of him. His shirt comes off easily, discarded over the wire frame of the headboard. His hands tug on your nightdress, and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. Your hands slip down to pull at the tie of his pants, and he lifts his hips to shove them down around his thighs. His fingers lower, stroking easily between your legs, and you rock your hips into the sensation.

“Missed you,” he whispers.

“I know.” You brush his hair away from his face. “C’mere.”

He lets you reach down, using the tips of your fingers to guide him where he needs to be. His breath quivers when he feels you press him into you, and you let him move you a little closer, until your bodies are flush and you can feel his chest against yours.

FINISH ON PATREON

FOREVER TAGS (please boost): @atc74​ @anaelsbrunette @bitchassbecky691​ @chenshemesh1​ @comicmcfly​ @deanwanddamons​ @defenderrosetyler​ @emberocrpblog​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @foxyjwls007​ @kittenofdoomage​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @katbratsupernaturalwhore​ @lunarsaturn88​ @mariekoukie6661​ @percussiongirl2017​ @ssworldofsw​ @starsandasteroids​ @spnwoman​ @spnbaby-67​ @serpentbaby​ @stoneyggirl​ @thecleverdame​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​ 

[marsgod]

OKAY ONAY SO YOU KNOW THE FIC I MADE!? “Diet mountain dew” !? HOW ABOUT

Lilia Vanrouge x I just wanna be yours

idk if you meant this as a request, but i’m putting what i thought of first and you can’t stop me💕

⇢ Lilia x Gn! Reader

⇢Warnings; Romantic relationship, may or may not’ve meant for this to be “yandere”! Lilia but i didn’t do to well w it:’), gn! reader

Lilia looked sick, his cheeks were burning red and his eyes looked hazy, the only thing keeping you from sending him to bed is the fact that you know he’s not sick,

Lilia meets your finger tips gently with his own before intertwining your hands together, grabbing your other hand and guiding you to cup his face before kissing your palm.

“I love you- I love you, I love you, I want to be yours and no one else’s. I’ve loved you since the beginning when we met and I’ll love you for forevermore” Nuzzling back into the palm of your hand, Lilia continues to mutter different confessions with a lovesick, almost drunk smile. Off in his own world.

[strwbi-laces]

Weekend wip!!

A little section from kiss your fingers forevermore

“Oh Monty,” Effie whispered and felt her heart break. Her hands brushed over his cheeks. Half of the very world lay in her palms. How could she do this to him? Salt the earth on which she built a home. Tear apart the sky that had sheltered her.

But while she had this half in her hands, the other was upstairs sleeping soundly, entirely vulnerable. For James, she would. It didn’t matter what was asked of her, she would do it. He was her sun. The only one in the sky. She would do anything but lose him.

“You’re so good. You are such a good person. But I need you to be a good parent.”

[myrsinemezzo]

Chapter 13 is up! The ties binding Sauron and Galadriel begin to pull tighter and tighter. And there is kissing. Lots of kissing. I cannot believe I still have readers at this point since the edging has been so strong in this fic…

“Do not look away from me, Galadriel,” he murmured, drawing her attention to his face. His plea drove straight to her heart as his thumb stroked against the back of her hand. “Your eyes themselves are the stars in the sky. I would rely on their light to see my way forward.”

Taking her silence for some kind of acceptance, he let go of her fingers and reached out to put his hand to her hip so that he might tug her forward to rest the full length of her body against his. She did not resist on feeling them press together in gentle partnership. She had no wish to. His other hand came up to allow him to slide his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back gently and carefully.

“There is the beauty I would covet,” he whispered, looking down upon her countenance. “There are the stars I would look upon forevermore.”

[albusgellertalways]

Stripped Alpha/Omega fic

Ch 8:  The Blood Troth

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39923829/chapters/118907008

Summary:   Gellert holds another rally to expose the Ministry's treacherous future plans for Omegas. Albus and Gellert travel to Stonehenge, where they make a blood troth to bind their souls. Not long after, Albus is in for a surprise.

Excerpt:  Gellert’s clothes vanished, leaving him completely starkers.  “I come here freely tonight, stripped bare before you.”  He gazed deeply into Albus’ eyes, which had darkened with anticipation.  “In the presence of Merlin, I bind our twin souls together in sacred union, for all eternity. Liebling, I am yours and you are mine.  Let the mixing of our blood be a never-ending symbol of our eternal love. I pledge to always be true and to always treat you with dignity and respect.  I will never love another.”  

Gellert took a deep breath before declaring, “I pledge my troth to thee, my Omega, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. My body, heart, and soul are yours and only yours forevermore.” Gellert nodded at his mate, who was barely holding back tears. “I pledge myself to thee, my Alpha, Gellert Grindelvald,” said Albus, perfectly pronouncing Gellert’s name according to German tradition.   “My body, heart, and soul are yours and only yours forevermore.  You are my perfect mate, my perfect complement, my constant and touchstone.  I remain yours for all eternity.” 

“Now, we make it official.”  Gellert used his wand to superficially cut his left palm.  “Your turn.” Albus held out his right palm and Gellert slightly nicked it. Their palms kissed as a few droplets of blood trickled down their hands. After interlocking their fingers, Gellert pressed his lips to Albus’.  They melted into each other for a moment until something caught their eye. A tiny white sphere formed in the air, encasing two drops of their blood.  Albus watched, enthralled as a glimmering silver pendant formed around the sphere.  A long, silver chain attached to the necklace as it dangled in the air.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Sneak Peek: Hēzīr, Ābrazȳrītsos (What is Broken!Aemond x Sister Wife!Reader) 18+

Translation: From Now On, Little Wife

The day she has been waiting for all her life is finally here. She is at last wed to her dear brother, Aemond, and all is right in the world. For now, she does not have to be patient to get what she's been craving for so long...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Smut (vaginal fingering, p in v), sadness but only if you've read What is Broken

Author's Note: A lot of people have been asking for this for a while, but I've kind of lacked inspiration for it. Until one lovely @queen--kenobi set up a Table Sex Event to beautifully spite a nasty anon. So thank you, dear Persephone! I'm planning to have this posted this coming Saturday, June 29.

I will be setting up a side blog for me to reblog fics to in place of a taglist

Hēzīr, Ābrazȳrītsos Sneak Peek

The time between Aemond kissing her at the altar and leading her into the Great Hall for the wedding feast was a blur.

She was fairly sure he had kissed her again in the wheelhouse before it made its journey back to the Red Keep. The King, who, according to their grandsire, had been too weak to attend the ceremony, greeted them upon their arrival. She did not recall what he had said, but she doubted he had either, so she did not worry. And at some point, she had been undressed and redressed, for she now wore her second wedding gown – the one that had not had its hem dragged through the mud outside the Sept and in the castle courtyard.

But to her, it seemed as if only a moment had passed between Aemond pulling away from her at the Sept and him leaning in to kiss her again in front of the Iron Throne.

“Ñuhon,” Aemond whispered against her lips. Mine.

“Aōhon,” she replied. Yours.

Though the crowd’s cheering was their cue to take their seats, she could not resist leaning forward to kiss him once more.

“I see my wife is a greedy little thing.” Aemond was grinning when he pulled back, noticing and delighting in the way she blushed when he called her ‘wife.’ He took her hand and helped her into her seat before taking his.

By tradition, he should have been seated directly to their father’s right, with his new bride on the King’s left. But tradition had always been disregarded for them. Or rather, for their half-sister, who now occupied the seat at their father’s right hand. Aemond and his bride were on his left, two seats down.

Still, all eyes were on them – on her. How could they not be? She was radiant, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the gold stitching on her dress. Her smile was bright enough to outshine the sun and stars themselves. And while their guests were fortunate enough to witness it, he knew it was all for him.

No longer just his hāedus. More than his zaldrīzītsos or maegītsos. More precious even than his raqiarzītsos. Now, and forevermore, she was his ābrazȳrītsos. Little sister, little dragon, little witch, little darling.

Little wife.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

1k Fics Masterlist

A Game of Proposal (ao3) - imaginativecurls michael/calum G

Summary: Calum couldn’t figure out how to propose to Michael, so he settles for the laziest option. He’s going to see how long it takes Michael to notice an engagement ring on his finger when he wakes up from a nap.

A sweet kiss from your strawberry lips (ao3) - livefastdiehung ot4 N/R

Summary: Luke’s lip gloss tastes like strawberries, he wants his boys to know it.

Beside You (ao3) - iCheeseYou (EHkook) michael/luke G

Summary: Michael sneaks into Luke's room while the blond is sleeping just so he can lie beside him.

can i tell you a secret? (ao3) - prophecygrl michael/calum T

Summary: “You’re so pretty, Calum,” Michael slurred. As always, Michael was the first one to get completely shit faced at the party. “Thanks, Mikey. So are you,” Calum sighed, holding Michael upright so he didn’t face plant. “No, like, really pretty. Your lips are probably the prettiest,” Michael said.

Complete Mess (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton E

Summary: Ashton looked amazing. Ashton always looked amazing but right now, Luke couldn’t think because of how good he looked. Ashton had decided leather pants were the best move for tonight, leather pants that wrapped around his thigh oh so nicely.

He couldn’t handle the sight of Ashton. Every time they saw him, they needed to do something.

Ashton wasn’t helping, the permanent smile on his face had turned into something to tease Luke.

or how not to do a late night performance

Feeling This (ao3) - stelleshine michael/luke E

Summary: Luke loves being in Bali, except for one thing. He can’t have alone time with Michael, and it hurts because Michael is so beautiful.

I’ll be there, time and place (ao3) - jbhmalum michael/calum T

Summary: Calum gets home from work to a sick Michael. He takes care of them.

i want your midnights (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton, michael/calum T

Summary: Luke maintains that truth or dare is a dumb game. Michael says he’s just a buzzkill, which might be true, but it doesn’t mean Luke is wrong. Truth or dare is dumb.

This is, unfortunately, the unpopular opinion of the people at this New Year’s party, so here they are anyway, in a circle on the floor, playing it.

just dance (gonna be okay) (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember michael/luke T

Summary: Michael doesn’t have the fear of elevators falling that so many of his fellow college students have. He understands why the fear comes from; elevators are small and there is the possibility of getting trapped in one, even though it would most likely be for a very short amount of time. But Michael’s done his research and knows that it’s practically impossible for modern elevators to go into free-fall, and he’s pretty sure that considering how many people an elevator is designed to hold, it’d be very hard for anything he does while alone to have an effect. So, whenever he finds himself alone in an elevator while listening to music, he’s more than happy to use the opportunity to have a mini dance party.

Kisses For Everyone (ao3) - The_Lady ot4 T

Summary: That blonde boy keeps kissing a bunch of different guys. Hallie's getting a little worried for his boyfriend.

or ot4 from the pov of a girl who does not know they're a polycule.

lay low in our lazy luxury (ao3) - bellawritess michael/calum T

Summary: “Maximum comfort,” they explain, completely misinterpreting the sceptical look on Calum’s face.

Calum pries the last waffle off the iron and settles it atop the stack on the plate. “I wasn’t wondering about the jumpers, you idiot, I’m wondering why Monopoly was your choice. Are you trying to break up with me?”

Michael laughs. “It’ll be fun!”

(let me be) your teddy bear (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton G

Summary: Luke tapped his nails against the glass counter, the cinnamon sugar mix covering his apron. He was bored, the mall was empty and he had to stay there even if it was deserted.

or a build-a-bear/auntie anne's au

Live Like This Forevermore (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/ashton T

Summary: Luke and Ashton spent a lazy morning together

Mile High (ao3) - lovelylarry (leeanndarling) michael/ashton N/R

Summary: Michael teases Ashton and gets him hard before their 15 hour flight home. Ashton doesn’t appreciate it one bit.

(But Michael takes care of him on the plane because he’s a loving boyfriend like that)

New Years Day (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton T

Summary: Ashton knew throwing a New Years eve party was so fucking cliché, but he wanted to cap off an incredible year with a celebration that showed everyone how incredible the year had been. They’d finished their next album, Luke and him finally figured themselves out and he had gotten better.

Or how not to throw a New Years eve party

permanent jet lag (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember michael/luke G

Summary: Meanwhile, Luke had tried sitting in practically every position he could in his cramped airplane seat and, as far as Michael knew, had yet to drift off for more than a couple minutes at a time. Michael glanced over to see Luke burrowing his face into Ashton’s shoulder. His neck was bent at an awkward angle and he was more hunched over than Quasimodo. To put it simply: he looked like crap.

Plaid Shirts and Morning Kisses (ao3) - beendreaminglikeafool michael/luke T

Summary: Luke wears one of Michael’s plaid shirts.

special (ao3) - orphan_account calum/ashton N/R

Summary: ashton finds calum sleeping on a park bench, so he takes him home and makes him feel special

there's glitter on the floor after the party - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) michael/ashton T

Summary: The aftermath of Michael and Ashton's first new year's eve party as a married couple.

Win or lose I'm screwed (Malum) (ao3) - petalrock michael/calum T

Summary: “We’re not dying,” Calum says, not looking up from where he’s tightening the straps on his armor. It’s a nervous habit. His armor is on perfectly fine, but Michael knows better than to say anything; Calum will just get all red and flustered. Actually, Michael kind of does want to say something. “And if we did, we’re not becoming ghosts. We’re probably ending up in the Fields of Asphalt, or whatever.”

[whattheheckmidoriya]

The Way You Say My Name

Pairing: Post-war Levi x Deaf Reader

Word Count: 2,321

Warnings: none to my understanding! (Let me know if I should add any♡)

Description: After the war, Levi began to understand the treasures and simplicities of life, but nothing could ever be as precious as the first time his name rolled off your tongue.

Author's note: The long-awaited fic is finally here! Yay! I hope the wait was worth it :"D And please, as a hearing person, I kindly ask that if there's anything wrong with my writing in this piece, let me know! Even with my research, I understand there's still a lot for me to learn, so don't hesitate to kindly point out what I should look out for in the future!♡

Join the taglist here!

Masterlist

•

Levi Ackerman was a lover of simple things.

It was often he would find himself relishing the ways of this new life of his, one where he was no longer bathed in the stench of crimson despair, but in gentle perfumes birthed from the growths blossoming under the golden sun. Far behind him were the days of fighting, and he nearly scoffed at the turn his life had taken. To think that a soldier would someday trade his dull blades for flowers and tea bags was an idea that he would’ve called a fool’s dream. Only if he’d known then that he was only destined to become the greatest fool of all.

Indeed, Levi was a fool in love.

He usually found himself wondering what he did to end up where he was today, safe under a roof he shared with a love of his own, laughing long after the sun had bid its farewell and when there were enough stars in the sky to be reflected in that pale gaze of his. And despite having been a fighter all his life, he cherished these peaceful moments when he was no longer Humanity’s Strongest. He was no longer a soldier, a mere vessel molded into a weapon from a boy who’d been robbed of the joy of youth. No, he was now, wholly and forevermore, Levi Ackerman. And Levi had fallen in love with the simplicities of his new reality.

The crack of dawn was no longer a promise of bloodshed and demise, but a single, fleeting moment when he could slowly fill his lungs with fresh air, feel the warmth of being truly alive wrap around him in the form of a jewel he calls lover. 

What a beautiful thing.

Meeting you turned out to be the most lovely experience of his life. Who would’ve thought that he’d find himself tripping over his two feet, stuttering and stammering, fully disarmed before the mere presence of you? He still chuckled at the memory, at how he’d quite literally fallen into your arms after his faltering leg had betrayed him for the better, dropping him straight into your steady embrace. Looking at you now, Levi still couldn’t fully thank whatever lucky stars he had in the heavens for crossing your paths together.

He kissed the top of your head gently, allowing for his lips to linger before pulling back and carefully setting a hot cup of tea on your bedside table. A breath of wonder filled his lungs as you smiled up at him, and he swore he saw new constellations twinkling in your loving eyes. A scarred hand tugged at the sheets that lay strewn across the bed, making sure to put your subtle shivering to a stop.

“How did it go at the shop today?” you signed, tilting your head in curiosity. Usually, you’d help him get ready and lend a helping hand in tending to customers, but after waking with a fever and sore throat, Levi insisted he could handle things on his own for the day. Still, you worried that he’d overwork himself in your absence.

Levi spared you a knowing smile as he sat on his side of the bed, setting his cup down before answering. He didn’t reply immediately, taking a moment to articulate his words with care. When he did speak, his words came clumsily, his missing fingers presenting a challenge, but he learned from you that mouthing his words helped. “Wasn’t too bad,” He paused, rehearsing the gestures in his mind before continuing, “It was a slow day today. I missed you.” 

You giggled softly. He was always so soft-spoken when signing with you, still too fresh to the language to form longer sentences. It was quite endearing. You still remembered the days when he’d stay up late practicing what you’d taught him, his ears burning red whenever you laughed at his mistakes and guided his hands to form the correct gestures. You had to admit, he’s gotten better at communicating through signs with you, no longer depending on a pen and notepad or the awfully rare lip reading successes you had with him. 

A glance out the window told you that the sun had only just begun to set, the sky a gentle painting full of warm, golden hues as the sun teased meeting the horizon in a kiss. You smiled. He closed the shop early just to come home to you. “I should be able to help out tomorrow,” you said slowly, giving Levi the chance to follow your gestures and piece the words together. 

Levi frowned, placing the back of his hand over your forehead. He pulled his brows together before shaking his head. “Rest.” He said through sharp signing, though his expression remained one of care and concern.

You merely huffed in defeat, relenting when he tilted his head at your untouched tea. Both of you sipped at your drinks quietly, smiling as he locked one hand around yours, offering a gentle squeeze. Sneaking quick looks at your lover, you caught the tender way he peered down at your intertwined fingers, your chest fluttering in an achingly beautiful way. 

The flicker of candlelight danced around your room, bathing your lover in its glow, his eyes twinkling with specks of gold. Carefully, your fingers feathered along his forehead, brushing aside the cascading strands of hair that lingered just above his eyes. With a soft clatter, you set your cup aside, using your other hand to caress the sharp curve of his jaw. 

He could only watch attentively as your fingers gently traced over the contours of his face. Across his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, and over the corners of his lips. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch, turning his face to feather the palm of your hand with a kiss. As your fingers ran over his softening features, he gave way for his eyes to flutter closed. Bliss.

“I love you,” he sighed suddenly, only sinking further into your warmth. When your touch halted, his breath hitched and, immediately, his eyes opened to meet your gaze. Heat bloomed in his cheeks, rising to the tips of his ears as he marveled at the twinkle in your eyes; a lovely thing spilling over with curiosity and wonder. Curiosity. It then hit him that he’d forgotten to sign for you, and he immediately brought up his hands to articulate his words. 

But you knew. Of course, you knew— you'd memorized the shape of his lips long ago; how they curled and stretched with each sweet syllable was art you were fascinated by. You knew what it looked like when he breathed into existence those three sweet words. If anything, his love was the one thing you could recognize without the need for signs.

Instead of letting him sign, you carefully placed one hand over his neck, feeling the faint beating of his heart drumming beneath your skin. As if by instinct, Levi abandoned his cup of tea and covered your hand with his own; his touch, sweet and gentle, brought a smile to your lips. 

This little habit of yours, so soft and intimate, was one of his favorites. There was always something so enrapturing about the way you waited with anticipation for him to use his voice, to feel the deep rumbling of his words thrum up his chest and through his throat. 

You gave a short nod, gaze settled on his lips.

Levi huffed a sharp breath of amusement, scooting closer to you. He always seemed to get shy in moments like these, moments when his boldness became meek. Being close to you helped. A beat passed and he steeled his will, taking a deep breath. 

“I love you,” he repeated, sealing his declaration with the whisper of your name. Butterflies fluttered within his stomach, tickling his insides as he watched your eyes light up. Your fingers tapped over his neck excitedly and he couldn’t help but respond with a chuckle.

What he didn’t expect, however, was for you to take his other hand and press it against your own neck. Hesitation fleeted across your face, though it was gone as soon as it came. Levi tilted his head in a silent question, his heart stuttering for a beat or two.

The sun had long disappeared, in its place now standing the elegance of the moon. In this newfound darkness, where only the faint silver glow of the moon and the flickering of a small flame gave way for light to seep into the room, your courage bubbled hot within your veins.

Your hand slid down to his wrist as if keeping him tethered to you by your touch alone. A part of you thanked the shadows of the night for hiding the rising blush that crawled over your cheeks. 

Sharp silver eyes widened in realization, and the Captain couldn't help but let his mouth hang slightly in sudden surprise. This had never happened before. No, he'd never heard your voice before— never even brought up the subject for the fear of making you uncomfortable. He'd simply reasoned that you'd do it, if ever when you were ready. 

Your hand on his neck, his on yours; a gesture so innocent as it was intimate. 

He offered you a moment, a chance to pull away, but when determination sharpened your features, he felt a stream of pride pulse through his heart. Maybe there was some excitement there, too.

Swallowing, he gave your neck a tap and you responded with a tap of your own. "I. Love. You." He emphasized each word, noticing the concentrated pull of your brow as his voice rippled under your skin. Then again, he said, "I love you."

You opened your mouth, then clamped it shut, your heart crashing against your ribcage. Shaking your head, you tapped his neck twice. Repeat. 

"I love you." He repeated an oath he kept close to his heart. 

A deep breath breezed past your lips, expelling your nerves. "I…"

"Love," Levi continued, offering a reassuring nod.

"Love," you smiled sheepishly. "you."

Levi broke into a smile, one of the rare ones that genuinely showed the puff of his cheeks, and squeezed his eyes with joy. A laugh of wonder rumbled through his chest, a beautiful thing thrumming under your fingers. Pressing his lips into a thin line in a futile attempt at suppressing his smile, he tapped your neck twice. Repeat.

At his reaction, excitement bubbled within your stomach. Your words, though clumsy and slightly mushed together, came with much more confidence, "I love you." 

Levi ran a hand through his hair, then let it clasp over his mouth. Unable to contain his excitement, he was quick to sign, "That was good," He nodded, smiling. "You did so good." 

After a beat, you surprised him once more. Softly, almost inaudibly, with a single word, you managed to pull at his heart in the most achingly beautiful way. You breathed, "Levi."

He froze. His breath ceased for a mere second as his mind processed what you'd just said. Wide, gunmetal and milky eyes stared back at you, full of wonder and something you couldn't quite place.

Two taps to your neck. Repeat.

Again, a hushed breath carried his name, "Levi." 

Your heart hammered against your chest as you waited for a reaction from your lover. Had you pronounced it correctly? Had you fully messed up his name? 

With a frown, you signed, "Was that wrong?"

Heat tinted Levi's cheeks red, his eyes widening in panic before he shook his head. "Not bad," he signed quickly. Instinctively, he rubbed the two scarred stumps on his hand— a nervous mannerism he'd picked up. "Not wrong." He reassured, scooting closer to you. 

Your brows pulled together, not quite understanding his reaction. "Then what?" Your signs were loose; downhearted. Defeat heavy on your shoulders, you let yourself fall back onto the bed and blew a sigh.

Levi didn't turn around to meet your gaze, not immediately. Instead, he blinked rapidly, hoping to keep back the stinging tears that threatened to well in his eyes. His heart was tight, constricting painfully in his chest with emotions that remained foreign to him. The butterflies that merely danced in his stomach fluttered up to his chest, tickling his heart so lovingly. Warmth trickled through his veins, down to his fingers and toes. Everything felt so soft, so unreal to him.

When he looked over his shoulder, he felt the air get knocked out of his chest. In a second, he'd forgotten how to breathe. Pools of wonders unknown stared back at him, wide and brimming with questions unspoken. He clicked his tongue, dropping his shoulders with a sigh. He laid down by your side, turning to face you.

You gaped at him, rushing to wipe the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. Silently, you watched as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep it from quivering. 

Before you could say anything, he signed, "I love the way you say my name," He blinked; more tears dropped. "It sounds nice when you say it." 

A watery laugh rushed past your lips, and Levi didn't resist when you tugged him into your embrace. He quickly melted into your hold, keeping you close as his emotions got the better of him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting your love seep through his skin.

How beautiful it was for Humanity's Strongest to be a man; no longer a killer, but a boy new to the kindness of the world. Levi Ackerman was once the name of a soldier— of a man carved from stone, chiseled with blood-stained blades. Now? Now, Levi Ackerman was simply Levi. Your Levi. Sweet, loved, and beautiful in an almost poetic manner.

And Levi could get drunk on the way his name rolled off your tongue. His favorite simplicity of all. 

•

🏷Levi Ackerman taglist

@leviackermanmyhero245 @violet-19999 @celestair @ms-sin-city @ghostly-haunted @andrastesbeard @ikisstoga @izukus-gf @Bluetima @Lemonboi69 @aconstructofamind

[kilbygrl]

BACK TO DECEMBER; jack harlow

pairing: jack harlow x fem!reader

category: angst

summary: you would do anything to go back to december after realizing you were wrong.

warnings: i think none? let me know if i missed something. and italic means past.

a/n: oh hello you guys! this fic is based on a anon who sent a bunch of suggestions one of those days, and i intend to all of them, so that's the reason i didnt ansewer the request with the fic. and this is based on "back to december" by my queen and inspiration, taylor swift. so i hope y'all like it.

masterlist

You always felt like you were not in control of your life. That you were always living for others. Since you were a little kid, you never had much saying in how your life was going to be, your parents were extremely controlling, they had planned your entire life and you had to follow it. Your life started change when you went to college, but you never really erased your roots. You always stayed behind everyone, being there, as they used you for their own good. Until you meet Jack. He was the sweetest and concerned person you’ve ever met. He always made sure the spotlight was yours too. The first months you felt like you were living a dream. You never had something like that. No one ever showed that kind of affection and love for you. You felt so insecure, feeling that you weren’t enough for him, although he always said the opposite.  

“Why are you doing things to me?” you ask Jack, as his head lays on the pillow, right next to yours. His blue eyes staring right into the deepest part of you. He always looked at you like you were something else “I’ve never felt like this. It’s like my heart is trying to get out of my chest and jump into your hands, like a gift” he smiled. He absolutely loved when you talk to him like poetry. 

“This is how relationships should feel like, pretty. You love someone so much that you want all of your parts to be theirs. It’s like you’re trying to become just one person, to be together forever” he holds your hands, close enough of his heart “It is already yours, I’m all yours” 

“We’ll be together forevermore?” he nods, kissing each one of your fingers. 

“If it’s on me, we will” you smile to him, feeling your eyes tear up a bit “I love you so much, you make me overflow” 

“I love you, I’m all yours already” you give him a slight peck, feeling just love overwhelm your body. 

You absolutely loved being with him. Wasn't there a second that he made you feel uncomfortable, he always was checking on you, even when he was busy. He always made time for you, telling you how much he loved you, how much you were important to him and how we wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Was his first-time finding love too. He liked showing you how much love was out there, mostly knowing that you never had that kind of affection, it made all even better, being the first to do it. 

And he absolutely loved to spoil you. He used to send you roses at least once a week, when he wasn’t home. Always brought gifts from everywhere he visited, when you couldn't come along. He made sure to have date nights at least twice a month. Always made everything easier on you, so you didn’t have to worry. He wanted to make you happy, he wanted to give everything to you. 

But perfect relationships are fairy tale. You guys talked about everything, so he spent months talking about how he was going on tour, and discussing how your relationship would suffer for you two being so much time apart from each other, since you couldn’t actually go on tour with him and you two were used to being together all the time. At the end you both decided was going to be easy, and you’d go back to be together in no time. 

And that was not what happened. The first month, wasn’t good, but was fine. He still sent you flowers once a week, and you did see him two times in that month, but just it. You still facetime-d and talked every day. The first half of the second month was way harder. He was doing even more shows, and didn’t have the time to talk every day and all the time. You knew him, you knew his heart, and you knew it wasn’t on purpose. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you, but not being with him made you feel in pain. And you knew he was tired too. Not of you, but of that routine, and your atmosphere change, and he didn’t even notice. 

And you started feel like you were behind the scenes again, every time you were with him, was not loving and breathtaking again. You were being the new superstar girlfriend. You knew he loved you. You still felt it. But you learned so much in the last year, that you knew you shouldn’t just let it be. You knew how it was going to be, you assumed at least, at as much as you loved him, you couldn’t just to it with yourself. 

“Yeah, I’m listening to you, Jack. I got it. But life isn’t that easy. I can’t just feel like I’m living for you. You told me that a thousand times. I spent the most time of my life living for other people, I can’t live for you too” you told him, while you two finally get to spend some time alone on a hotel room between one of his shows. 

“I don’t want you to, I don’t want you to fucking go either. You just can’t leave me like this” his eyes were shining, but was tears threatening scape his eyes “We can make this work out, baby. I promise you” 

“We’ve being trying to make things work out for a month, Jack. We are not the same anymore. I can’t just live like this. I know it hurts you too. It’s not easy. But it’s not good for none of us. I need to live my life besides being the superstar girlfriend”  

“You feel like I’m holding you up?” you nod unconsciously “I never asked you for anything. Never. If we are talking it, I just made your life easier” 

“I know. I’m not blaming you. It happens. Things don’t work out” 

“It shouldn't have happened. Things should work out. You’re the love of my life. I wanna marry you. I want to have kids with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you” he holds your face, making you look into his eyes. Tears leaving both his and yours. 

“How can we live a life together when we can’t even go through a bad phase? I can’t hold up anymore. I’ve been doing it my entire life. I can’t be just stuck in this relationship hoping everything is going to work out someday. I need to find myself, Jack. You gave me courage to do it” 

“You saying I’m the one to blame for you breaking up with me?” he laughs, ironically, taking his hands out of you. 

“There’s no one to blame. You just taught me a lot and I’ll never going to forget it. I’m thankful for you, you can’t even imagine. It’s just not the right time for us” you try to wipe his tears, but he pushes you away. 

“Just go already” he points to the door. 

You take your suitcase, that you hadn’t unpacked, walking away from him. Your eyes collide one last time, before you walk out the door. 

“I’m sorry. Bye, Jack” is the last thing you say to him. 

The breakup wasn’t easy on none of you. While you cried your whole way home, he cried the whole night. You didn’t want to leave him, but you put your well-being first. The last month you spend dating him, there’s not a day you didn’t cry, missing being with him, wasn’t heathy, crying yourself to sleep every day. But the breakup didn’t change a lot. Months went by and you still caught yourself thinking about him and how he was doing. And you end up crying. You tried to move on. Tried to enjoy having not holding you up. But didn't work. 

On his birthday, you did think about calling, or sending him a message, but you didn’t. The day that you two would complete two years of dating, you spent it crying, listening to sad songs and thinking about him. Sometimes you looked him up, and he look like he was doing fine, writing a new album, career becoming ever bigger. After the breakup, he didn’t mention you once. He was moving up. And you missed him so much. You missed him every day. You missed him so much that you swelled all your pride and decided to write him a letter. Old fashioned way.  

Dear Jack, 

I know you probably don’t want to hear about me, or maybe you didn’t even think about me these past few months. I searched your name once, and I see you’re doing well. You seem busy, working in everything you ever wanted to be. I could say that I’m proud of you. So, yeah, the last time I saw you is still printed on my memory like it was yesterday. So, this is me, swallowing my pride, and I’m saying I’m really sorry about that night. Freedom isn't nothing like missing you, and I wish I had realized it when you were mine. I am really and completely sorry. I wish I could back to that cold night in december and that hotel room who looked more like a house, and change everything. I really haven’t sleep well since the last time I slept with you. I thought about calling on your birthday, but it was your special day and I was not sure if you would be happy having me calling you. I was still thinking about you every second of that day, I even bought you a stupid present, can you believe it? And then I was thinking about how I realized I loved you, that summer. Our first summer together. I realize you gave me all your love and all I gave you was a goodbye. But I miss you. I miss the way you talked to me, or how I always watched you sleep, and how you frown your nose while you were waking up. I miss your freckles, the ones your nose, on your shoulders and on your back. I miss touching you. I miss your smile. I miss hearing you laugh. I miss hearing your voice, so much, that sometimes I go to the private part of my gallery and watch a bunch of videos you sent me. I miss how you used to hold me. How much you made me feel loved. I miss hearing you saying that you wanted to spent the rest of your life with me. You were the first one to show me what love really is, and I let you scape. I am truly sorry. And I truly miss you. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I know it’s not fair, but I still love you. 

Yours truly, Y/N

And when you finished writing, you could see the tears wetting the piece of paper. It took you days to have the guts to go to the mail, but you finally did, hoping that he still lived at the same place. Hoping that he could even think about forgiving you.