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gracieheartspedro · 9 months

Text

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: after your first encounter, joel turns into an asshole every time you're around. when tommy makes you two go out on patrol together, it turns into a muddled mess. turns out, he didn't hate you at all, he just sucks at emotions.

Part 2/3

FIND PART 1 HERE

PART 2 HERE

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, killing of infected (including a child), blood, some LIGHT gore, age gap (more specified in this part), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names, joel is still a menace to society and a jerk

Author's Note: Thank you thank you thank you!! you all are so fabulous and sweet. I'm gonna make a masterlist soon, so be on the lookout. I'm also starting a tag list so, if you want to be included, please let me know! All feedback is welcomed. I love you all sm.

I came prepared for absolution if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Joel on more of your patrols.

The patrols after your night together ended up being filled with unspoken sexual tension. You’d go home sexually frustrated and hungry for more, but you were never bold enough to make a move. And to be real, you weren’t sure if you should. He’d say something about keeping your shoulders straight when you shot, you’d say something stupid like “make me” and he’d spit back with, “I may just do that, girl.”

But it never went anywhere.

Even if you tried to make a pass, he’d make an excuse or remind you that you two were strictly working at the moment.

You once invited him over after a particularly long shift, wanting some relief from the ache between your thighs.

“Got things to get done at home,” He said, “Maybe another time.”

So after that week of patrols, you were suddenly never on his patrols again. You were put on the exact opposite shifts, actually. You had some sneaking suspicions that he asked Tommy to switch it up. He stopped looking at you during morning meetings and eventually you decided to drop the whole idea of him.

It still crossed your mind every time you saw him, though. How he felt on your lips. How his body felt connected with yours.

Your breathing would change every time you reminisced on your time together. He would consume your mind for brief periods and you couldn’t get away. You kept telling yourself that time would lessen the blow, but it never did.

So you tried your best to forget.

On one particularly chilly morning, you head to your scheduled time at the stables. You’d be going out with Jesse this time around. He was a newcomer, a real sweetie. Tommy wanted you to teach him all you knew about patrolling and securing certain areas.

But when you arrive, you notice Tommy, Joel, and Jesse all standing around waiting. You hadn’t said much to Joel the last couple weeks, only a wave or a quiet mumbled hello. His back was turned to you, but you knew those shoulders and back all too well.

“Are we all going out this morning?” You question, adjusting your braid on your shoulder. Joel turns to you, not expecting your voice to come up behind him. His eyebrows furrow at your presence.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy smiles, “You and Joel are gonna be going up to the ski lodge. Heard there’s a hoard or two out there, they need to be cleared.”

“I thought you said I was going with Jesse?” Joel speaks up a bit too quickly. Tommy’s words caught you off guard, so you just stand there waiting for him to respond to Joel, but it never comes.

You swallow, clearing your throat.

“No, I was supposed to go out with Jesse, actually.”

Jesse looks at everyone confused.

He was a cute kid. 20 years young, fresh faced, ready to take on anything. He had all this energy, something you wish you still had. Now you had a bad back, fucked knees, and a terrible sleeping schedule. You were only about 10 years older than him and you’re falling apart.

“We can all just go together?” Jesse offers, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. You knew that’d be shot down quick, especially when it came to a newbie. If there’s infected, we never throw the new guys into the pits of hell. They’d never want to patrol again.

Tommy shakes his head, “No, I want her and Joel to clear that area before I take you that route. They know it well. We are going to head towards the power plant. We have to bring back some supplies I have stored there.”

Joel’s eyes could laser Tommy in half at that moment. He was pissed and completely blindsided.

You surrendered to the idea, too tired to argue and fight about something so stupid. You also didn’t question their orders, simply because they knew better than you. You wanted to make sure Jackson was safe, just like everyone else.

You gesture Jesse to give the brothers some time alone, motioning towards the horses. You’d at least make sure the horses were ready for his trip out with Tommy. He grabs the reins of two horses, walking them outside towards the front gate. You grab the other two horses, doing the same thing.

He took notice to your tired eyes, “You okay going out today? You look tired.”

“Wow, Jesse,” You laugh, “I thought I looked great this morning when I woke up.”

He instantly starts to backpedal, not picking up your joke. You shake your head, trying to talk over all his apologies.

“I’m just messin’ Jesse. I am tired, but I’ll be okay, don’t you worry.”

He smiles, nudging your shoulder a bit.

“You just gave me a heart attack,” He chuckles, “You sure though? Even with Joel?”

You glance over at the Millers, watching them argue about whatever Joel was truly mad about. You knew in your head it was because he didn’t want to be around you. The feeling was becoming mutual. You never wanted to make anything awkward or difficult, but you guess that’s exactly what you did.

You just shrug. Jesse takes that as your response, grabbing the reins of your horse and handing them over to you.

“You stay safe out there,” He says, “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You couldn’t help but snicker, “No need to worry about that, dude.”

–

Oh, but was he getting under your skin.

You initially just nod at every direction he makes at you, remembering that it was like this before anyway. But then he starts to undermine every suggestion you made.

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“We will be back before sundown, you know that. Don’t be dumb about it.”

“Stoppin’ would be dumb as hell. You can wait.”

You had been begging for 30 minutes to stop and pee. He was not giving in to anything you’d say. After awhile, you could not hold it anymore. You pull your horse to the side of the trail, not even saying anything to him. You dismount the horse, holding the reins for a moment before you hang them on a branch nearby.

“What are you doin’?” He spits, noticing you off your horse. You come around the horse, giving him a deadly glare. You grab your pack, finding some cloths you bring on your patrols so you can wipe and throw away.

“I have to fuckin’ pee, Joel. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Get back on your horse,” He demands, his posture getting more stiff.

You shake your head, unbuttoning your jeans and turning back to a private area behind a tree. You remember the moments before kissing Joel for the first time. Him telling you how great your ass looked in your jeans. You grimace.

You tug down your pants and squat.

You relieve yourself, quickly using your cloth to wipe when you finish. You toss it behind you, standing up in your spot and turning around to head back to your horse.

You realize Joel is off his horse, bounding towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling you to face him.

“Why don’t you fuckin’ listen?” He says through gritted teeth.

It took everything in you not to fucking snap. You wanted to pull away and scream and yell and throw something at him. But instead your heart just started racing at the contact his hand made with your skin and you physically couldn’t do anything.

He realizes you’re caught off guard. He didn’t grab you hard, just enough shake you a bit to get your attention on him and only him. His facial expression changes as he drops your arm, stepping back a couple of paces. It’s like he realized he was being a bit too aggressive. Maybe it was your expression that brought him back down from whatever pedestal he thought he was on.

“Don’t touch me,” Is all you could think to say. He wasn’t even touching you anymore but you still felt him all over you.

He just nods.

You look down at yourself, realizing your pants are still unbuttoned. You look back up at Joel who’s staring at your panties peaking through your unzipped jeans. His eyes travel back up to yours. You decide to slowly button them back up.

You don’t hear what he says when he peels his eyes away and walks back to his horse. Probably some asshole comment that was better said under his breath.

You both get back on your horses and continue to the ski lodge in silence. Before you scale the one side of the mountain, you hear something.

You keep your eyes peeled for infected. You are almost positive that’s what you’re hearing so you whistle to catch Joel’s attention. You nod to your left, which is the direction you hear the familiar clicking. You grab your rifle from your side saddle, gesturing to Joel to do the same.

You always get this rush when you have to kill infected. It’s not a good rush at all, it’s pure adrenaline.

You dismount again, making sure your horse is tied to a nearby tree. Joel is close behind you as you creep forward towards the noise. The woods are dense with trees but there is also a ton of rock formations that were usually excellent cover.

The clicking gets louder and so does the sound of your heartbeat.

“There,” Joel whispers, gesturing towards a rock. You kneel, creeping up the formation and looking down. There you see not one, not two, but three clickers wondering around a dead deer. It was torn to shreds, blood everywhere. You weren’t bothered by blood at all, it was just the sick smell of decay that got you a bit queasy. You draw your gun up, aiming it towards the clicker closest to you.

“On three,” You murmur to Joel. You knew that you’d had to shoot two at the same time to give you enough time to kill the third with a quick reload.

Joel just nods, drawing his gun up.

“One,” Breath in, “Two,” Hold, “Three” Breath out.

The sounds of guns sent the clicking sounds to an all time high. Your ears are ringing, but you instinctively cock your gun, releasing one shell.

You aim, firing your weapon at the third and final clicker. You hear Joel yell something, but your ears are still ringing.

Then it hits you.

“Three more!”

Every time you’re in a fight or flight situation, you always fight. Old you would run.

You bring your weapon up, noticing Joel’s new position on the boulder. He’s aiming and firing at some infected down hill who are quickly running at you two.

You refocus in searching the area behind you. The last thing you needed was a sneak attack from a stalker. One enters your eye line and you fire. You keep count of how many bullets you have. Three down, four more left.

“Got two on your right!”

You hear Joel’s directions, drawing your weapon up and shooting another stalker between the eyes. The last one was a child, which was always the hardest. You knew that there was no choice, so you pull the trigger, which sent the child flying backwards. You wince a bit, seeing that this was probably just a family who got caught in the wrong situation. You killed all of them in less than a minute. Life wasted.

Silence fills the air, your ears still ringing from endless gunfire. You turn back to Joel who’s breathing heavily and holstering his gun.

You never had to question Joel’s abilities, which made him an excellent patrol partner. He knew exactly how to react in high risk situations.

He made you feel safe.

“Looks like we found one of the hoards Tommy was talking about,” He says, walking up to you, “Lets hope it’s just the one.”

“Glad it was you with me and not Jesse,” You say, relaxing your arm.

“That kid would be dead by now.”

When you’re less than a mile from your stop, you notice some storm clouds taking over the beautiful summer sky. The air starts to change. The wind begins to pick up, blowing your braid back and tickling your bare neck. The air smells like rainwater, sweet and pungent.

You use the silence to think about how simple life use to be. You reminisce about your childhood that was cut too short. You were a young adult when the infection started so you hadn’t been able to get married or settle down with a family. Everything was ripped away from you so prematurely and deep down, you crave that simplicity. Get married, have children, die of old age.

If only you could’ve lived in a world where you didn’t have to kill a child because some random ass fungus took over their humanity.

“We are almost there,” Joel says finally, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We may have to ride out the storm.”

You just nod even though he can’t see you.

The ski lodge was actually very beautiful. It was one of two that was used as a safe house for patrols, this one being your personal favorite. You had been there with Tommy once and he gave you the grand tour. It was reasonably clean for being so old, stocked full of canned items, and had very comfy beds.

You start to bring your horses to the covered back porch when it starts to rain. You grab all your gear, slinging it over your shoulder. Joel jingles a key out of his pocket, racing to the sliding glass doors. He unlocks the door, ripping it open as soon as the rain picks up. You both make it in the quiet lodge, setting your belongings on the kitchen counter.

“I’m going to get the lanterns up and running,” You mumble, heading towards the living room where all the lanterns were scattered about. Joel locks the sliding glass door, before he starts rummaging through his bag.

You turn on as many lanterns as you can, lighting up the room with warm glow.

You find your way onto one of the couches, kicking your boots off.

“Want me to start a fire? We may have to hang out the rest of the night if that storm don’t let up,” Joel questions, sliding his jacket off his shoulders.

You shrug, “Don’t matter.”

He starts to pile up some wood as you find an apple in your bag. You watch him slowly pace back and forth from the wood pile to the huge stone fireplace. You watch his back muscles flex when he picks up a piece of wood. You were using him as a distraction to get you away from those dark thoughts from earlier.

You bite into your apple.

“You bring anythin’ for me?”

Is he fucking with you?

“There’s canned peaches in the cabinets.”

He laughs, lighting the wood with a match. You watch the fire build and build as he messes with the wood. He was squatting, his shirt riding up a bit. Even his lower back was eye catching.

“You don’t wanna share?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not sharin’ anything with you.”

He turns back to you with a smirk playing on his lips, “Not even a better look at those panties you’re wearing?”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.”

You did hear him, of course, but were in denial of the actual intentions behind the words. He creeps closer, finding a spot on the couch next to you. You take another bite of your apple, staring at him with curiosity.

Was he being serious?

You contemplate your options. Do you play into the game? Do you resist and possibly regret it later? He was such an asshole earlier. But then again, he always is. He was before you slept with him. So was that a valid excuse to not play into the game?

You remember the ache between your legs last night after reading a smutty romance novel. You imagined the characters as you and Joel, yet you never wanted to admit it. You knew that you wanted this, but resisting to give him a taste of his own medicine would be satisfying, too.

“Ya know,” He ponders, leaning over to meet your eyes, “I still have your other pair you left at my house.”

You remember the slight panic you felt the morning after when you couldn’t find them. You knew damn well he’d find them somewhere, but you didn’t think he’d keep them.

“Didn’t even know I left them,” You lie, your eyes averting away from him.

You were a horrible liar.

“You’re pretty cute when you lie, sweetheart,” He grabs your chin, tilting your face back to his, “You left them on purpose. Thought you’d use that as an excuse to come crawling back to me.”

He was being smug, you knew that. For some reason, you don’t cave immediately even though the conversation was making you tingle.

“Crawling back to you? Why would I do that?” You question, “When I have all these other guys who will gladly take up my offers.”

He smiles smugly, “Hm, that doesn’t seem very like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to whore yourself out to a bunch of assholes.”

His finger traces your lower lip, catching it and pulling down. You don’t pull away, soaking up the intense tension in the air.

“You don’t know me, Joel Miller.”

He just stares at your mouth, “I know enough.”

You want to lean in further, push your lips on his and finally surrender to him. But you hold on for a few more seconds. You’re practically quivering under his touch, wanting nothing more to just cut the shit and jump on top of him.

“You told me not to touch you earlier,” he mumbles, “But here you are just fumblin’ over yourself every time I touch ‘ya.”

“Will you just shut the fuck up and kiss me?”

His touch becomes rougher, his one arm pulling you into his lap, the other hand grabbing your face roughly.

“You start talkin’ like that you get nothin’,” his breathing fans your face, blowing your baby hairs away from your forehead, “Be a good girl like before.”

You squirm a bit, trying to lift your head in defiance. It doesn’t work, he has a good grip on you. His eyes are dark as he adjusts you so you are practically mounted on his lap. He releases your face bringing his hand down to your neck. He pulls you down to his lips, connecting them feverishly.

You couldn’t help yourself. You melt into him, your hands wrapping around his neck before sliding them down his chest. His hips are practically rutting into yours. You grind down, moaning out at the contact. You knew that being disobedient wouldn’t get you anywhere, so to get what you want, you knew you’d have to play into his dominance.

He smiles into the kiss, knowing you have been waiting for this moment.

You pull away, pulling your shirt off. He’s looking at you like you’re his next meal. You kind of are.

“Missed these tits,” He says his hands resting on your ribcage, right under your bare breasts, “Best ones I’ve ever seen.”

“Joel,” You groan, fumbling for the button on your pants, “Need you. Bad.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know baby.”

He fondles you for a second before latching his lips around your left nipple. His tongue swirls around it before he slightly bites it. You arch your back, wanting more from him but he just pulls away. You roll off his lap, tugging your pants down, including your underwear.

“Ah,” He’s not even paying attention to you butt naked all spread for him, instead he’s leaning down to your pile of clothes. He grabs your panties, holding them up, “Baby pink. You fuckin’ tease.”

“Joel,” You whine, nudging him with your foot, “Enough about my underwear.”

He runs his hands up your leg before standing up and discarding his own shirt and pants. He leaves his briefs on, his cock tenting the gray fabric.

“So eager,” he mocks, “What do you want from me, baby girl? Hm?”

You smile at the million of thoughts running through your head. But you settle for words that you know will drive him wild.

“Do whatever you want to me, Joel.”

He pulls you to the edge of the couch. He’s on his knees like he’s about to pray at the altar to whatever God may exist. Instead, he’s between your legs, speckling your thighs with scratchy kisses. His salt and pepper hair is messy, his sunkissed bare arms highlighted with some freckles. You never noticed them before.

“‘M gonna need your mouth,” He mumbles, raising his fingers to your mouth. You grab his wrist with your hands, lifting his fingers to your lips. You suck on every one, releasing each one with a pop. He watches you with his lips slightly agape, almost hypnotized by the action.

He uses his newly wet fingers to trace your slit before he uses his pointer and middle finger to spread your lips. He’s playing with you, making you writhe underneath his touch. You lift your hips a bit, which causes him to lay his free arm across your lower stomach.

“Patience, sweetheart,” He gives your pussy one lick, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

He’s good on his word.

He dives into you like a ravenous animal. His tongue hitting every desperate spot within you. You were taken to the same state of mind when he first ate you out. You had no words, just moans of pleasure.

He uses his fingers to toy with your opening, sticking two fingers in initially before he becomes too eager to see you fall apart. He wraps his lips around your swollen clit, suckling and moaning around it. You knew from before that he liked all eyes on him. You watch him as the vibrations mixed with him finger fucking you sends you into your first eye rolling orgasm.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life. It’s a release you’ve been yearning months for, making it even sweeter.

He pulls away, giving your pussy a little slap. It makes you yell out.

“Came without permission, but that’s okay,” He licks his fingers, “You have a couple more in you. You just gotta beg extra for ‘em.”

He was a menace.

You just nod, not able to communicate your actual feelings on him denying you the simple pleasure of cumming all over him. The idea of having to hold back made you a bit eager to see how far you could take it, though.

“Need your mouth now,” He tugs off his underwear, kicking them across the room. You don’t know how, but it almost looks bigger. Maybe it’s the swollen red tip that makes you overawe over it.

“Would you like me on my knees, sir?”

He leers at you, “What a good girl, being so polite… Yes, baby girl, get on your knees in front of me. I wanna see those eyes.”

You crawl off the couch, getting in between his legs. His cock is laying on his lower tummy, just waiting for you. You aren’t super into sucking dick, but this was Joel’s. You know that you had to give it your all. You wanted to give it your all.

You grab ahold of the base of his cock, keeping your eyes on him as you slowly open your lips to take him. Once your hot mouth touches the tip, he hisses in satisfaction.

“Mhm,” He groans, “Take all of it, baby.”

You’re not sure if you can, but you are going to do your very best.

You relax your throat as much as you can, slowly inching his cock down your throat. You’re halfway around it when it hits your gag reflex. You pull back, still keeping his cock wrapped around your lips. You sit up, jerking the base of his cock as you slurp up as much as you can.

“You got it baby,” He encourages, “Relax and take it slow.”

Whenever Joel praises you, you can’t help but let it get to your head.

You take a deep breath in as you take more of him in. Widening your jaw more, you finally get him completely engulfed in your mouth. He twitches inside, which sends a jolt of pleasure to your core. You let him take control, raising his hips a bit to fuck your mouth. He has a hold of your braid, which only adds to the experience. You’ve never had your hair pulled before, but you’re beginning to love the sensation. He’s a moaning mess, chanting your name like a prayer. Your saliva is all over his lower tummy by the time he pulls your mouth away from his cock.

“Gonna make me cum like that if you keep goin’,” He states, pulling you up to his lips. He kisses you, all tongue and teeth, “Let me fuck that pussy, yeah?”

You whimper, “Yes, please.”

“Such a good girl.”

He pulls you up into his lap while you slowly position yourself above him. You loved riding him before and with how sensitive and riled up you were now, you were prepared to ride his cock like it’s the last thing you’d ever do.

He focused his attention on rubbing his cock head between your pussy lips. You bite your lip as soon as he pushes slowly into your entrance. You groan, letting the sweet stretch take ahold of you.

“Atta’ girl,” Joel sighs, “Take all of me in that tight little pussy.”

You gasp as soon as he raises your hips a bit, repositioning how his cock sits inside you. His hand rests on your pelvic bone, pulling you forward. You realize he’s guiding you, helping you grind back and forth on his dick. Every roll of your hips pushes a moan out your throat, making Joel stare up at you with satisfaction. He removes his hands from your hips, bringing his right hand to your throat.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby girl,” He lets out a wanton moan, while your stomach feels like it’s reaching a boiling point. He realizes how tense your getting so he reaches down with his spare hand, putting more pressure on your clit. “This is my pussy.”

“Mhm.”

“Say it. Say it’s mine.”

“It’s yours, Joel.”

“That’s fuckin’ right, baby girl. All mine.”

“Joel, please,” You cry, “I need to cum.”

“No,” He spits, “You don’t cum until I tell you.”

You clench, trying to resist the release. He notices you slowing down, so he stops choking you. Instead of letting you have a moment to recoup, he grabs your waist again, raising it slightly so he could raise his hips to pound into you. With his fingers still pressing on your bud, he chooses a bruising pace. You are practically screaming, the release imminent.

“Please, please,” You beg, “Joel, I need to.”

He doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy, “You keep beggin’, baby girl. I’ll tell you when.”

“Fuck, fuck,” You can’t stop yourself, the vibration from your incoming orgasm taking over your body, “Please Joel!”

“Cum,” He grits his teeth, “Cum all over this cock, baby girl.”

You have never had an orgasm take over every fiber of your being like it. You throw your head back, yelling Joel’s into the silence of the house. His pace slows down, as your cum soaks his lower half.

“Oh my god,” You groan, not knowing how to formulate a full sentence yet. You were still seeing stars in your vision, as you try to refocus on Joel.

“Holy shit,” He pulls out of you, “You okay?”

You just nod, your head falling forward. Your braid falls over your chest in between your breasts. Joel grabs the end of it, toying with it for a moment while you catch your breath.

“I’ll give you a minute,” He picks you up off him, laying you onto the cushion next to him. You grab his hand as he tries to pull away.

“I don’t need one,” You were still spent from the first two orgasms, it was written all over your face. Joel just chuckles, positioning himself over your body. He cages you in, tilting your face so you make eye contact.

“You ready for me already?”

“Need you.”

He uses his leg to part your thighs, settling between you again. He was still hard, his cock nudging your swollen wet opening.

“I want your eyes on me,” He commands.

“Yes, sir.”

He pushes into you again, your mouth parting in a gasp at how sensitive you were.

He smiles at your reaction while he settles into a steady pace. You try to focus on him, watching his facial expressions as he dives into you over and over again.

Joel had to be sculpted by whatever God created him. Every part of him was angular, his cheekbones quite high. His nose was just about perfect, especially from the side. His side profile was everything.

You truly didn’t think he looked his age. The only thing that kind of gave him away was the grays speckled through his dark hair. Other than that, the guy was a sex god.

You are too busy to admiring him, you don’t even realize how close he is. He’s gripping onto your hips, probably bruising them with how tightly he’s holding them. The way his dick twitches inside you, sends that familiar rush back into your body.

He’s not breaking eye contact. You smirk while he groans pushing harder into you.

“You better cum inside me,” You murmur, “Want you to fill me up.”

“God,” He cries, “So fucking flithy.”

And he loved that about you.

He releases into you with a loud sigh. You don’t teeter over that edge until he pulls out of you, looking to see his work.

He uses his two fingers, pushing them inside you, then back out. He rubs his cum onto your clit, slapping it a couple times. When you jolt in pleasure, he smiles knowingly.

“One more time?”

He positions himself between your legs again. He’s fingering you so lazily but it’s still enough to have you crying out in pleasure. You don’t even have time to respond to him, before you’re falling over the edge and cumming once more.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath again. Joel stands up on wobbly legs, making his way to the nearby bathroom. You didn’t know if this house would be stocked with rags or anything, so when Joel comes out with a folded blanket, you can’t help but giggle.

“This is all we got,” He gestures towards the blanket, “We can burn it when we finish with it.”

You take it from him, running it between your legs. The wooley fabric scratched a bit, but you didn’t have one care in the world.

Until you get a familiar sinking feeling. Like you did something very wrong.

You sit up while Joel takes the blanket, cleaning up himself. You try to stand, your legs feeling like jelly. You pick up your panties from the floor next to Joel’s clothes. You start to grab each of your clothing items, throwing them on as you go. You watch as he does the same.

“I guess this means you don’t hate me,” You mutter, not knowing what to say after what just occurred. You felt guilty and sick with anxiety.

If anyone else sat in on this day with Joel, they’d say the same thing. The way he talks to you, how annoyed he was to be stuck with you on patrol today, everything. It’d make anyone feel not wanted.

He shoots you a glance, “I never hated you.”

He says it with such conviction that you wince, not sure whether to believe him.

“You have ignored me for months. You fought with Tommy because you were stuck with me today. And then on the way here, you yelled at me for having to pee. Called me dum-”

“I didn’t call you dumb.”

You breath in sharply, “You’re just impossible, you know that?”

He shakes his head. You know he wants to say something smart back, but it never comes.

Instead he sits down beside you, keeping his eyes down at his feet. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a lifetime.

“Listen,” He huffs, “I don’t hate you. I am just not good at…”

“Being nice to people?”

He smirks, finally looking up at you, “Sure, but hey… I don’t regret anything that happened. I enjoy our… time together.”

You wanted to strangle him.

After months of contemplating what went wrong, he tells you he doesn’t regret anything.

After spending all that time acting like he did.

You wear your emotions all over your face and Joel realizes it quickly. He rests his hand on your knee, a gentle gesture that makes your heart rate increase by a thousand.

“You made me feel like shit for months,” You admit, trying to hold your composure, “I’ve felt like an idiot since the moment Ellie walked in that morning. You made me feel that way, Joel. You made me feel stupid. And here I am, all this time later, and I still feel fucking dumb. Maybe even dumber now, since I just let you fuck me again.”

His hand travels up to cup your cheek. You felt like crying, but you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, darlin’,” He confesses, “I am sorry for everythin’.”

You felt like you were being manipulated. You always had a terrible time figuring out what a genuine apology looked like. You were used to being exploited and having your heart ripped out and stomped on.

You turn away from his hand, looking out the back sliding glass door. The rain is coming down, pitter pattering on the tin roof over your head. You see lightning go across the sky, hearing the loud crack of thunder seconds later.

You pondered if you should just run in the other direction. Away from Joel, away from the emotions and memories that were being sludged up from the deepest pits of your brain.

“When I grabbed you earlier, you had this horrified look on your face…” Joel starts, bringing your attention back, “It was a face ‘d seen more than a few times. That look of disbelief and fear.”

You just let him continue, not looking him the eyes.

“I never wanna to make you feel that way,” He admits, “I never wanna scare you or hurt you. I knew in that moment, I was using that pent up anger at myself towards you.I just… I spent so much time tryin’ to find ways to keep you away from me because I don’t wanna disappoint you or hold you back.”

You finally look back up at him.

“I am sick of findin’ ways to keep you away. I like havin’ you around.”

You want to believe him so badly.

“I like having you around, too, Joel. I just…” You stammer, “I just need a bit, okay?”

He bows his head, “Yeah, ‘course. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll take watch and wait for the rain to let up.”

You take up his offer, stalking off to the nearby bedroom. You just wanted space, a moment of peace and quiet. Your body was still recovering from the greatest orgasms of your life, now your mind is littered with a million emotions you didn’t know how to muddle through. Once you lay down on the old bed, you realize that sleep would probably bring you back to life a bit. You close your eyes, letting your mind ease out of the chaos of reality.

–

When you wake up, you don’t hear anymore rain. You only hear the crackling of the fireplace. You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping, which sends you into a slight panic. You waltz out into the living room, seeing Joel lounging on the couch you defiled and reading. It was a random novel, probably from the large bookcase in the hallway.

“We good to head back?” You question.

“Yeah, let’s get home ‘fore they send out a search party.”

You watch him stretch his shoulders as he stands, his jaw clenched in an unrelaxed way. His hair is messy and standing in different directions from the way he was laying. It makes you smile.

“Hey Joel,” You say, walking closer to him, “When we get back to Jackson, would you want to go out to dinner or something?”

His gaze softens. You were really trying, he could tell.

Your rested mind decided it was time to just jump head first.

If Joel was being honest with his intentions, maybe it was time for you to be honest with yourself, too.

“I’d like that, sweetheart.”

“It’s a date, then.”

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #cool about it #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller x reader smut #gracielovespedro

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 2 months

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A Spark To Ignite (Bodyguard!141 x Famous!Reader Preferences) Mild NSFW

Summary: You see each other every day. He works to keep you protected - a perk of your job and his. Occasionally feeling moments of passion and promises of something more between you two are only normal, right?

AN: I've got another bodyguard!AU for the 141 that's more angst based. I'll post that later. I've also got a Price x Escort!Reader in the works plus the end of "Star-crossed in the Crosshairs". Let me know if you have any requests/anything you'd rather see first <3

Content warning: Minors DNI, 18+ only, allusions to sexual tension/arousal, second person, no use of Y/N

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Another notification of being tagged in the same paparazzi image hit your notification inbox, yet you still opened it and shared a giddy grin at the Instagram feed.

You hadn’t been fussed about going running; it was the company rather than the activity that attracted you. But one thing you were certain about the sport was that no one ever looked flattering whilst doing it.

Yet there he was, your Kyle, looking like a model for Sports Direct. He was snapped midstride, his biceps practically rippling in the glow of the morning sun. There was even a hint of his lean washboard torso with the flap of his t-shirt’s raised coyly.

However, his dimpled smile aimed was the main focus of the headline – mainly because it was aimed at you and your equally elated expression. You blamed the euphoria of exercised endorphins but the way the photo was framed (plus the gaudy text declaring it so) made it seem as if you and Kyle were a true couple in love. It looked incredibly staged. Kyle was an “unknown” though so most budding theorists did not support any claims of it being a publicity stunt. Just two lovers out on a jaunty little run together.

You saved then added the photo to the folder of photos that captured you out with your bodyguard and the headlines that (sadly) misidentified him as your new boyfriend.

“Hey Kyle!”

Blending some fruits. His duties did not include head chef but you had long since allowed him access to your kitchen, even storing some of his favourites around the cupboards and fridge in case he fancied a snack.

Your phone was thrust up into his eyeline, you beaming behind it, “Another Pulitzer.”

Abandoning his smoothie temporarily, Kyle cupped his hand around yours to steady your swaying phone.

“They need to up their standards. Taking you for a jog is hardly a date you deserve,” He commented.

“Ooo, do tell: what do I deserve?”

“Well,” Kyle began pouring the smoothie into a glass, “I could go classic, take you to out on the town to a special place only I know about.”

You leaned onto your elbows, chin resting in your palms, cheeks creased in a cheeky smile. “Mm-hmm.”

“Wine you, dine you, treat you like a deity,” Kyle said as if he was listing off menial tasks on his day to day whilst collecting another glass for the remaining smoothie. “Take you back to mine if you fancied it, another drink whilst we talk the night away and time passing without us noticing.” Graciously, he slid the other one across the countertop, and your fingers locked against his warm ones wrapped against the cool glass. “Then work up a sweat in a whole other way.”

Blinking away the glaze that had coated your eyes, you restrained the urge to gulp back your desire. A fresh breath in your lungs recovered you quickly and you managed to conjure a teasing quip amidst the fog that had settled over your thoughts.

“Think you could keep up with me?” You said before sipping the smoothie.

The sweetness of it countered Kyle’s smirking reply: “You and I both know I can more than handle you.”

“Better train harder then,” You said, proud of yourself for not stumbling over your playful banter, “I’m a catch, so you better be fast enough.”

“Jog, same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.” And, not missing in the reflection of the oven door how Kyle – for a split second – looked you up and down, you did your best not to collapse or squeal during your return to the sitting room.

-----------

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You leant against the ropes of the new boxing ring with a panting chest and aching legs. Jellied bones dared to let you collapse to the ground but at least, since your self-defence training had begun, you were lasting the full session rather than just after the warm-up.

“I think we’re done for today! Did good, held your own.” Johnny gave you a hearty slap on your back that almost ricocheted you off the ropes. “I’ve still got a few reps to get in.” He leapt out the ring and swigged from his water bottle, tossing you your own.

“Show-off!” You called out after him, though all in good fun, as you caught your bottle and your breath.

Technically, since you didn’t have anything else to do, you could get a head-start on getting cleaned up. You were in the privacy of your own gym, added at your request so that Johnny could train you better and you could do so without being ogled or papped.

Quite hypocritical it was then, that you lingered in the ring to watch Johnny stack up his weights on either side of the bar (the ones you purchased as part of his perks of working for you).

Your day-job came in handy with pretending to do some cooldown stretches, sipping from and pouring your water bottle over yourself. Well, you were actually doing those things but acting as if they were the only things that occupied your thoughts was the main role you were playing. From the corner of your eye, you observed Johnny squatted with a stack of weights lining each shoulder. God, those arms were practically popping, his thighs bulging with the effort of remaining planted on the floor and folding up and down beneath the hefty set. Mesmerising, you forgot to keep up your pretence by the second load of reps.

It left your lips before you could reconsider for the tenth time: “Bet you couldn’t lift me.”

Soap paused in a deep squat and looked up through his lashes at you. Meeting his steely blue gaze was easier than anticipated but maintaining it as he righted himself and rested the weights back on the rack with a restrained grunt was the difficult part.

At first, you thought maybe his silence was his answer. Then Johnny knelt down and assumed the plank position.

“Get on,” He said, loud and clear.

You still doubted him, “Seriously?”

“You made the bet. Now lie in it.”

As elegantly as possible, you dismounted the ring before making your way over to his side. He showed no signs of tiredness during your journey, nor did he when you balanced yourself across his broad back.

“Ok, ready,” You said, your voice close to wobbling.

And so it began. Up and down, you could feel how his body sustained you through both your and his workout gear. His back muscles rippled beneath you and his elbows kissed yours each time he lowered you both to the floor. Out of nowhere, you began giggling and you couldn’t figure out how to put a stop to it. Giddiness flooded your entire system until you were beyond drunk.

Suddenly, your world tilted and you rolled off onto the mat but Johnny refused you any respite, flipping you over onto your back again, like a pancake.

“I win,” He panted, “What’s my prize?”

Still giggling, you felt your cheeks burning at the sight of him hovering over you, his skin glowing, his chest panting. His unrelenting stare had you locked beneath him, barred between his trunk-like arms. If this was your prison, you’d commit any offence to stay in there. God you were so close you could kiss him-

Nope.

“You finish your workout early so you can have a nice hot shower sooner?” You said, covering your mouth to cough and clear your airways of whatever shit you breathed in to make you even consider making out with your bodyguard. You must’ve looked so daft; you blamed the endorphins. Then you blamed Johnny completely as he started to laugh down at you, sending your thighs quaking as he crawled off you and ordered you to get cleaned up – that he’d be in shortly after as a hint to not use all the hot water. As you drifted back to the bathroom, you tried not to think about him in the shower or how you wanted to offer to scrub him down.

-----------

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Say the word and I’ll have him removed.”

For a man so stoic and intimidating, Simon sure made you smile a lot. You needed it after that… “interesting” conversation with one of the party’s guests – someone who you knew to be a detractor behind your back.

“It’s fine, really,” You insisted with a winning smile.

Casting a glance over your shoulder where your shadow dutifully remained was a reward you would never be exhausted of. Simon looked so good in his tux. Plus he’d humoured you and worn the silk black mask rather than his usual. You were brimming with privilege at seeing his hair styled beyond the flattened fuzz it would take on after being beneath the balaclava for twenty hours at a time. Even more so, you got to see his tattoos pairing nicely with them like a good bottle of wine.

You could hear the smirk hiding beneath his mask. His veined hands clasped firmly in front of him as he leant close, just his mask separating his lips and your ear.

“We could make a break for it. Ditch these twats. Get a drive-thru.”

He knew you never would agree to it; this gala meant a lot to you. Such a tempting offer though, in such a tempting voice too. His rough tone did nothing but delight you when you heard it. Turning to look at him, you took note of the two mere inches between your face and his.

He continued, “You’ve shown your face long enough.”

“Getting jealous of them stealing my attention?” You asked provocatively.

Simon let out a low laugh, shaking his head fondly with just a hint of patronising, “That’s funny, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people who are dying to still talk to me.” You gestured with the glass he’d gotten (and checked for any malicious interference) for you around at the room, those who would never have the privilege of being a part of your and Simon’s bubble.

“Just as long as you and everyone else knows that I’m the one who takes you home.”

The implications of that statement swelled in your chest, nestling into your heart like a cat in a warm patch of sunlight. Intently, he looked at your face for your reaction. That was the thing with Simon: always observing, recording every flicker, every possibility in that incredible mind of his. You were certain he could see into your soul with those all-seeing eyes. He kept you safe, kept you on your toes, kept you happy.

But the bubble burst before you could hit back and you abruptly checked yourself back into work mode. The person who’d spoken loud enough to bring you back down to Earth didn’t seem to notice your slip up. You, however, were more than acutely aware of Simon’s lingering presence at your side. So close the hairs on your arm extended on goosebumps, coaxing and begging to touch him.

As you were once again left alone, you found yourself stifled by your need to be nearer to Simon and quickly decided the alcohol was to blame. “I need the bathroom.”

“This way.” His hand grazing the small of your back had an impact tripled, but you managed to submit it to travelling through your nose, rather than gasping out your mouth. But you were certain that Simon had caught you. He never missed a thing.

-----------

John "Bravo Six" Price

After shaking hands again with the presenter and declaring a few thanks to the crew, you were guided straight to the dressing room by Price. You took off your own microphone and handed it to him, which he immediately passed to a nervous stagehand. Your name in Arial font on an A4 sheet of paper greeted you from the dressing room door.

Sometimes you needed that extra time to decompress and he knew before you did more often than not. Today was not one of those days, though you did request to stop and pick up the bouquet that had been there to welcome you in when you first arrived. It was so large, your favourites blooming in the dew-dropped cellophane, that you had trouble waving to the folks who’d stuck around at the barrier, Price’s arms keeping you walking and guiding you towards the car.

For your safety, you had to go in the back where the tinted windows offered you a hint of privacy. It was a thorn in your side though. You longed to sit beside Price as he fought playfully with you over the music, grumbled with the directions his phone offered, collected your drive-in order. Then maybe your daydream of being his partner could have a little more to stand on.

A true gentleman as well as your protector, Price walked you up to the house and let you set up your evening meal while he made final checks to secure your house again. Normality for you was hearing him walk around and jiggle door handles and returning only when he was certain none had been tampered with and your cameras were fully functioning.

“Anything else you need from me before I leave for the night?” He asked, standing at ease in front of you.

You gestured to the bouquet you were cradling like a baby, “Thank you for the flowers.”

His brows furrowed for a split second then a sheepish smile smoothed out the lines in his forehead, highlighting his eyes instead.

“You caught me,” He said quietly, sparing a look at the flowers he asked the host to order for you, then back at you.

Squinting mischievously, you asked, “Were you really hiding it?”

“I suppose not.” He let his smile soften and dull. Back to business. Yet you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth before he asked, “Anything else you need?”

Your heart yearned to beg him to stay and tell you what else he did behind the scenes without a hint of expecting more, so that you could show him how much you cared in an appropriately equal response. His favourite whiskey perhaps for when he was off duty, or one day doing something together that he wanted to do so it wasn’t just looking after you. It was more than that, the job. He’d told you so. But you didn’t want to just be a job to him.

Quietly, you maintained your decorum, “No, thank you.”

John nodded his head, “Of course.”

It was as he was about to cross the threshold when you started to ask, “Do you-”

Not even three words made it out before Price whipped around, already returning to where he’d stood before. You could feel your lungs struggling under the strain of maintaining steady breathing at the gesture, suspending all the blood in your face (and maybe your groin). It stopped your question in its path, as if it was waiting until Price was listening attentively (he always was for you).

“Yes?” He prompted, his voice soft as if to coax you out of your hideout.

Fidgeting with the bouquet still, you cleared your throat and began again, “Do you want to join me, for dinner?”

Price’s hands, now at his sides, tapped on his thighs thrice before he said, “Two conditions.”

“Name them.”

Perhaps you said that a little too quickly because it made him laugh, which only made things worse for you. You had a real weakness for that laugh.

“You teach me whatever you’re planning on making, and you let me help you make it.”

Your heart accelerated and you dismissed his with a smile and a slight self-deprecating remark to soften the weight of this decision you were both making: “It’s nothing special.”

“Those are my terms,” Price insisted. His eyes creased as a smile grew on his face, more beautiful than the flowers forgotten the second you placed them into the vase. But at least it gave you to excuse to look away and gather your expression into something more collected as you ordered him to go and wash his hands.

#kyle garrick fanfic #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish fanfic #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #john price x reader #john price fanfic #captain john price x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #my writing #preferences #r: gn

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majinbangus · 1 month

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Things I think Captain MacTavish would say to you in a relationship <3

[This could also be used as a prompt list (preferably w Soap in mind), just tag me if you use, I'd love to read

you can request a prompt from this list (for either Captain MacTavish or Sergeant MacTavish). I'll write a mini drabble, prolly 500 words or less (open to fluff, angst, smut) though I might use this list for practice even if I don't get requests. we'll see how I'm feeling]

- 'pretty' 'doll' 'darling' 'dove' used and last bullet point mentions 'girl' but can skip it/not read last point -

He says with (affection):

"You're mine. Say it, love. Or I'll make you say it. Say you're mine and no one else's."

"You're my pretty bird. I'm a lucky bastard, aren't I?"

"I'll be the death of you, but is it so selfish of me to want the life you bring to me?"

"I always take care of my things, and that includes you. Especially you. Never doubt that."

"I know you need me. No point in denying it. I know what a lost puppy you are without me. S'okay, I'll keep you, even though I'm more of a cat man."

"No one's gonna take you from me. No one will be able to take you from me."

"Stop cryin' already, I'm here. I'll always come when you need me. You know that."

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you. Don't offend me by thinking otherwise."

"You'll listen to me, yeah? You're good for me like that."

"My precious doll. My darling pet. My sweet dove."

"Don't try to hide yourself, I know you love my attention."

"You'd let me do anything I'd want with you. And I'd do anything you want from me."

"I won't let go of you as long as you hold on to me."

"I'm yours too. Every part of me belongs to you. Don't you dare forget it."

"You know what I mean when I say I'll always come back to you. I know what you mean when you say you'll never leave me."

Bonus:

"No, I will not 'draw you like one of my French girls.' Stop asking, muppet."

He does.

#soapy thoughts :]#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #captain mactavish x reader

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korrasamiweek2024 · 3 months

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Hi everyone! This December will mark the 10th anniversary of Korra and Asami walking hand in hand into the Spirit Portal and changing the animation game forever. Korrasami means so much to so many people, so let's give them the celebration they deserve💖

Here's a general idea of what to expect and when:

February 1st - April 30th: Prompt Submission. Let me know what kind of prompts you'd like to see! Send me a message here and I'll add it to the list.

May: Prompt Voting. Depending on how many prompt ideas are submitted, this could take one week or a few weeks. We'll see when we get there!

June - December 14th: Long stretch of time during which I'll be on my hands and knees begging you not to forget this event is a thing, and you can brainstorm and work on your submissions!

December 15th - December 21st: Korrasami Week!!!

Keep reading under the cut for rules and guidelines😊

Rules and Guidelines:

1. What's allowed? Pretty much anything! Artwork, fanfiction, gifsets, headcanons, analysis/meta, memes, etc. are all welcome, as long as they're your own work and are Korrasami-focused.

2. Explicit content is fine, but the characters need to be adults, and everything depicted MUST be consensual.

3. Please abide by Tumblr's guidelines about explicit content, otherwise there's a chance Tumblr might delete your submission! If you're not sure, you can always post your work to another site (AO3, twitter, etc.) and then link to it here. All explicit content posted and reblogged here will be tagged "nsft" so be sure to block that tag if you'd like to filter out such content!

4. No whitewashing, racism, misogyny, transphobia, ableism, or other bigotry of any kind.

5. When submitting visual or audio media, please include a description either in ALT text or in the body of the post itself.

6. Other characters and relationships from The Legend of Korra are welcome, but your submission should be primarily about Korrasami.

7. Be kind. No criticism ("constructive" or otherwise) of other people's work unless the creator explicitly requests it. If you don't like something, just keep scrolling!

8. Follow the prompts if you can! They're meant to be helpful, but if you get inspired by something else entirely, please feel free to submit whatever you make!

9. Tag for content warnings if you think something might be triggering.

10. Submit your fanwork either by mentioning @korrasamiweek2024 in the body of your post and using the #korrasamiweek2024 tag, or by submitting it directly to this blog. You can also add it to the Korrasami Week 2024 Collection on AO3. All submissions for each prompt will be reblogged or posted by the end of the day.

11. There's no such thing as a stupid question, so if you're unsure about something, feel free to ask!

#korrasami #korrasamiweek2024 #tlok #lok #korra #asami sato

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astrophileous · 8 months

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Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

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

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

Word Count: 4200-ish

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

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

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

"I know who you are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

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

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have to go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, of course I did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

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

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

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

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

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? What'd you find?"

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

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

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

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

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

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

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

At last, you were alone once more.

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

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

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

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

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

You woke up gasping for air.

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

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

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

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

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

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

Hard.

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

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

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

It was your phone.

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

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

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

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

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

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

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

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

"Shut the fuck up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, Arthur--"

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

"No--"

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

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

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

"Arthur--"

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

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

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

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

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

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

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

"You choose me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

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

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

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

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

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

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

In that moment, death was imminent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

402 notes · View notes

gallavichthings · 4 months

Text

It's time!

How would you all like 21 22 fics on the 21st 22nd of December?

The Gallavich Masquerade Ball 2023 is now open! Grab a glass of champagne or anything else you'd prefer, some hors d'oeuvres, and choose your (first) dance partner for the night!

You can check all the fics in our AO3 collection or on this post, after the cut. A list of all authors with links to their profiles is also included. This post is pinned so you can check it whenever you want.

And here's the link for the form where you can put your guesses. It's only one form for all the fics, so please wait to submit your guesses only after you've read them all.

Here's the updated point system:

Points for readers: Correct guess on first choice: 5 points. Correct guess on second choice: 2 points. Incorrect guess: lose 1 point. (Please note that you only lose 1 point per story, even if you guess incorrectly on both choices.)

Points for writers: If someone correctly guesses your fic (regardless of in the first or second choice): 1 point. If someone wrongfully guesses your fic: 3 points.

Leaving kudos and comments is allowed and appreciated! Writers are also allowed to answer, but it's up to them whether to already do it or wait until everyone's identity is revealed so as not to give anything away accidentally. Oh, and if you want to post something about the fics here on Tumblr but can't tag them, I can serve as buffer for now lol.

Oh, and the surprise? The winners will get some great fanart, courtesy of the talented @doshiart! Isn't that awesome?! 🥂

Cheers!

Keep reading to get a list of all the fics with their summaries and word count, as well as a list of all the authors, with links to their AO3 profiles.

FICS:

AITA? (2,072)

AITA? My new clients (29M and 31M) threatened me and I want to fire them. I know that’s not official therapist speak. TLDR; I want to encourage them to have healthier boundaries and find a new therapist, but until then, what do I do?

Attitude adjustment (4,483)

Post-canon Ian and Mickey figure out some relationship issues. That includes insults, (play-)fighting, more insults, and orgasms. Or: Mickey is having an attitude. Thank god Ian knows exactly what to do.

Black Charcoal meets Fiery Red (1,838)

Ian poses in a life drawing class. A straight forward job, if not for the guy with the blue eyes who can't stop staring at him.

Carnival (3,136)

Ian and Mickey spend the evening at a carnival... "Ian locked the car’s door, and put his arms around Mickey’s shoulders, as they walked towards the carnival. He had brought the leaflet home a few days ago, wiggling the colorful sketch of a carousel and the outdated font under Mickey’s nose with some hopeful glee. Mickey had protested for habit sake, but had caved in pretty easily..."

Five Dates with Brad f*cking Pitt (4,269)

Sometimes things may not be what they seem. Especially when there are assholes around who add fuel to the fire just for the sake of a fucking joke.

Groceries (2,260)

A routine trip to the store turns into a trip down memory lane.

The Guardians (4,879)

3,000 years ago, they had to join forces to defeat an evil sorcerer. Now, the sorcerer was back, and more powerful than ever. Could they defeat him for good?

i'll find a new place to be from (5,947)

They stand in silence for a couple beats, unspoken words lingering above their heads. The cig in his hand has long burned out and Ian resists the temptation to light up another, and another. He feels his mouth open, and close, then open again–but nothing comes out. Time’s up. "See you inside, Red," Mickey finally says before pushing the door open, and Ian remembers how to breathe.

Infused Attraction (3,434)

Mickey has to receive Iron infusions. Ian is a student nurse who is assisting the other nurses with the infusion. Mickey is interested in the redhead. Ian is seemingly interested in him too. Let's see how it goes!

Italy (I Trust And Love You) (3,183)

"Ian closed his eyes and ran a hand through his damp hair. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. Took a deep breath, as if to steal himself for some monumental task, and walked off down the sidewalk. The rain made quick work of drenching him. Ian didn’t seem to notice. In the dirt beneath the tree, drawn in crude blocky letters made with the toe of his boot: I + M." OR A story mostly told through Debbie's eyes during world war two, as she worries for all her brothers, but particularly the one sent home much before the rest.

Jump To Recipe (5,977)

Hiring Mickey Milkovich - Freelance Photographer to shoot the photos for his food blog was the best move Ian’s ever made. Mickey’s a fantastic shot, plus he’s committed to the success of Ian’s blog. (He’s fucking hot, too. But that’s just an added bonus.) And the best thing about him, is that in all the ways he’s professional behind the camera, he’s refreshingly unprofessional to Ian’s face. Which means when he comes around, Ian always knows he’s in for a good laugh, intriguing conversation, and an ego boost - Mickey never shy about how much he loves Ian’s food when they dig in after the shoot. Ian’s made chocolate lava cake today. But when extra time leads to their at-home appointment going way off script - Mickey wanting to update Ian’s headshots, but with a twist - who will the spicier photos leave wanting more, the “housewife army” from his blog’s comment section, or Ian and Mickey?

A Lot (4,245)

What could have happened if Ian had told Mickey that he was worried about going to Mexico with him?

The man in the van (2,141)

“Suppose I should thank you for the compliment then,” Ian teases, smirking a little. The guy snorts. “Don’t mention it, Red. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He proceeds to shamelessly check Ian out again, licking the corner of his mouth as he does. or Ian Gallagher wouldn't mind some excitement in his life. Enter one Mickey Milkovich, ready to oblige.

ole red (5,596)

Mickey is out of prison and walking the straight and narrow with help of his cheering section, P.O. Larry . It’s hard being tough in a pastel polo and dad shorts. Old Army is just a paycheck until he meets the assistant manager, Ian. Finally he figures out Ian was Mandy’s Ian from their teen years. Mickey is attracted to the redhead but is still closeted. Ian responds to Mickey lashing out by revealing he knows Mickey’s secret. Mickey decides to be brave and the reward , huge 😈

The Reason to Exist (4,851)

lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: can you stop stealing my loot lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: this team only needs 1 sharpshooter anyway 😐 mm1234567890 [18:23]: shut up u f** lieutenantcolonel [18:23]: WHAT

Red Hot (4,364)

Ian's workday has been shitty... but his afternoon might just be very different. Thanks to his favorite nephew and a certain mouthy and opinionated stall owner at the winter farmer's market.

A Salute Before We Sink (4,601)

The world will end tomorrow. Ian's only chance at survival is to earn a spot in an underground bunker. One man stands in his way.

Snowballs and Sneaking Out (2,441)

Mickey shows up to the Gallagher House in the middle of the night with a surprise for Ian.

So drunk on you (3,878)

"Then Mickey launches himself into quite a detailed account of the previous evening and there goes Ian’s sanity. He’s learned over the months to hone his selective hearing. That is, he’s not tuning Mickey out completely but he’s trained his brain to gloss over the facts that fall under the TMI category and focus on the highlights. Again, for the sake of his sanity. Because the thing is, he’s so gone on Mickey it’s actually embarrassing. And he’s been gone pretty much from the very beginning." Just another friends-to-lovers story.

Span the Distance, Bridge the Border (4,988)

Ian and Mickey are happy, living on the West Side and adjusting to life as husbands in their new apartment. Things are going well, really well, until one day Mickey’s brothers show up. And God only knows what they could possibly want.

weight of the world (3,360)

Mickey thought he was fucked for life and that he’d never see his mom again. Turns out he was wrong about both of those things.

Wonderful- a Gallavich Christmas Mini-fic (5,030)

In which Mickey learns the reason for the season or How the Mick gained Christmas.

AUTHORS:

Blodeuwedd

Calli_Writes

Captain_Jowl

energie_vie

Gallabitch73

gallawitch

Gembu

GrandSelfMythology

IanGalagher

JuliaKay

lingy910y

MissSnowwhitepink

mmmichyyy

My_Brain_Melted

NotHereNJ

Rayrayor

sam_writes_fics

Suzy_Queue

sweet_perversion

Sweetbee78

whatthebodygraspsnot

whatyouandihave

#Gallavich #Ian x Mickey #Shameless #Shameless US #Gallavich fanfiction #Gallavich Masquerade 2023 #Events #Mod post #now updated

170 notes · View notes

candiid-caniine · 6 months

Note

Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

#t4t nsft #asks #gen #denial #h/d #advice #💫 anon

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unicorncornflakes · 1 year

Text

Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 1

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at it. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5.1K

"I don't want to go" You told your mother again at the gates of the Starfall’s airport. Holding the bandolier strap across your chest, it tightly, nervously. You looked at your mother with a sad look. The Dornish woman gave you a sweet look and tried to comfort you before going inside. There you would catch a flight to King's Landing, where you would spend the entire summer vacation with your father's family, Aegon Targaryen. "I can't, please..."

“(Y/N), you'll end up having a good time. Your father told me last night that he really wanted you to go with him” she smiled sweetly at you. Your mother only wanted you to spend the holidays with Aegon. She wanted a bond or relationship to exist where it didn't. All you had of your father were the purple eyes and his family name. There ended all the coincidences between the two. You imagined spending a summer like the previous one. Mainly keeping your grandmother Alicent company, while your father claimed to be too busy.

"Last year he forgot to pick me up" you sighed exhausted, looking elsewhere, trying to suppress the tears that welled up in your eyes. “Please…” you said to your mother again, but she just tried to brush it off.

“I have also warned your grandmother that you were taking the flight, and your aunt, so I don't think there is a way for them to forget about you this year. If one does not go, another will go to look for you” she smiled at you, caressing your shoulder in a reassuring way. You sighed again, this time with more force. You knew that your mother also had little say in that situation. When she'd divorced your father, long before you even had consciousness to remember, your Uncle Daeron, a devoted advocate for his family's cause, had struck that deal, whereby you spent your summer vacation in King's Landing, with your father, and the rest of the year in Starfall with your mother. You were a Targaryen first and foremost, and whether you liked it or not, you had to carry the family name and spend time with them, though you'd never seen your father overly enthusiastic about the idea. You were his only daughter, but that didn't mean much to him either. You would end the summer like the previous one, counting the volumes in the library of that mansion where your grandmother lived. 3,758 volumes of the history of ancient Valyria. That´s the amount you remembered counting last summer.

"Mom..." you sighed again, hugging her and breathing in her scent. You had just come of age, but you didn't care, you would always need it. She was about to get married again and you were about to go off to college. You felt as if you were both about to start separate lives.

“It will be the best summer of your life. The summer before you go to university is always the best” she replied full of emotion. However, she had no idea how much you were going to change that summer, or what it would mean the presence of a certain dragon.

"Aegon," Alicent yelled at him as he continued to sleep off his drunkenness in his bed. With his mouth open and the pillow full of drool, he continued to doze against his mattress as if nothing was happening. He had spent the whole Friday night partying, and what he now needed was to rest. He had spent the entire week being a functional adult. That was his reward. "Aegon!" Alicent yelled at him again, shaking one of his bare shoulders. She narrowed her eyes desperately, as if she couldn't take it anymore with her son. Really, she couldn't take it anymore with the eldest of her offspring.

"It's very early," Aegon muttered, rolling over on the bed and settling back to sleep. “Please, I need to sleep…” he spoke with a thick mouth.

“(Y/N) arrives today. You have to go to the airport for her” ordered her mother. Yes, he remembered getting a text from his ex-wife telling it last night, and he sending a simple ‘OK’. "Get up," she commanded again, but Aegon continued to sleep, or pretend that he was sleeping. The truth about your presence made him uncomfortable, so he preferred to silence his mind with alcohol. It was the best.

“Send Cole, with the black Mercedes. Surely (Y/N) loves it” Aegon replied, knowing that this would make his mother even more angry, but he couldn't think of anything better. He was in no shape to drive, and sometimes looking at you, he could only feel failure. You were the reflection of your mother if it were not for those eyes that showed your Valyrian ancestry. That was all he had left you, and he couldn't feel more of a failure. He was a loser whenever the subject of his daughter across the country and his brief marriage to that Dornish woman had been brought up in public.

"I think your daughter would be excited if you go after her" Alicent snapped. Aegon said nothing more. He couldn't, nor did he want to. He heard his mother leave the room with a tremendous slam. He snuggled back into her bed. He needed to sleep. He needed to rest so he could face you later.

'The dragon has three heads' was the headline you were able to read in the business magazine. It was being read by the man you had to sit next to on that flight. The cover featured your father and his two brothers, Daeron and… Aemond. You saw the photo carefully. The three of them seemed what they were: big businessmen, attractive, powerful, successful and… arrogant. Above all arrogant. Kings of the arms market. The power of war was the key to their fortune. You sighed as you saw Aemond standing in the middle of his brothers, the tallest of them…and also the most handsome. You blushed, quickly looking away from the cover. Aemond was your uncle. Your uncle. You repeated slowly in your mind. If you had little relation to your father, Aemond had tried to fill in gracefully until last year. Last summer he hadn't appeared once during your stay. Only during your birthday party and he had appeared there with stupid Alys. You had become jealous as soon as you saw her. But since you had repeated yourself over and over again, it was because she was stealing Aemond from you as a father figure... and nothing more. Nothing else. To think of anything else would be to admit your own folly. It wasn't right. Although you hadn't realized it, your gaze had once again been fixed on the image of Aemond on that cover. His eye riveted on the camera. His smirk. The patch always well placed. His hair loose but well combed. It almost looked like he wanted to fuck the camera, if he hadn't yet. He was so… so… you would have let him do anything if he asked you to…

“Do you want to read the magazine?” the man, who must have been your father's age, offered it to you. He was quite attractive. Medium brown hair, powerful beard and sincere eyes. He must have been from the north, but a businessman like the rest of the men in your family. Thanks to the seven, he had awakened you from that vivid imagination that you had those days and that you did not share with anyone.

"Oh, no, no" you said nervously and blushing, waving your hand as if it were crazy. "I was looking at the photo" you replied and the northerner laughed charmingly and looked you up and down funny.

"Yes, women usually find these three attractive" he laughed loudly "My first wife was head over heels for them" he laughed loudly and you blushed even more, as if you didn't expect that answer.

"No, no" you shook your head again, blushing if possible. "He's my father" You quickly pointed to Aegon on the cover, wishing that it would stay in one more anecdote. As if you felt proud of him, or you felt him like something more than the one who had impregnated your mother.

"So you are Aegon's daughter?" the northerner looked you up and down, still with an aura of sincere amusement and without malice. “You're the little (Y/N), by the old gods,” he chuckled sweetly. You looked at him confused and he smiled at you again. "I'm Cregan Stark, when you were born I was the head of consultants at Targaryen Industries" he offered you his hand to shake, and you played along and gave it to him. He smiled genuinely and without any malice. "I was already saying that those beautiful eyes were familiar to me" he smiled at you again.

"Well... I don't know who you are" you answered embarrassed as you continued to shake his hand. Once again the fame and the name of your family predicted you. You had thought about changing it to your mother's, but you had not told anyone. You wanted to be anonymous. Not being a Targaryen.

“I'd be surprised if you remembered. You were a baby in your mother's arms the last time I saw you” Cregan laughed kindly and you gave a half smile. At least this man was nice. “Are you going to visit your father?” he asked you leaving the magazine on his lap, trying to be kind to you.

"Yes, I spend every summer with him since I was five years old" you smiled politely. You knew that everyone expected you to speak well of your paternal family. It was what was expected, although it was far from it. You berated yourself in your thoughts for being so open with someone you had just met. But it was the charm of the northerners, seeming good people.

“Tell your Uncle Daeron to call me, when you see him. Tell him that this old wolf has business to discuss with him” He ask you, again with a charming smile and you blushed, as if you had realized at that moment that he was quite an attractive man.

"I'll tell him" you said with a smile, as if you could really talk to your little uncle as much as Cregan must have thought "But, I don't think you're old" you smirked and realized that you were flirting with him, with a man who could be your father and he seemed to notice. He just smiled and looked down at his hands. You had changed. Since last summer you had, since the summer Aemond had abandoned you… you were no longer a little girl. You were a woman, quite attractive, with eyes that many would envy. Your body had taken more curvaceous shapes and you found yourself on many occasions filtering with men older than you. It was… it was just subconsciously, but… but you felt that you were destined to be quite an attractive and powerful woman. Your father's eyes allowed you to achieve it. Only at that moment, did you realize that you weren't a girl anymore.

"Well... I have a son about your age, you know?" He smiled back at you, this time more shy, as if you had some kind of effect on him that you were unaware of until that moment. The truth is that Cregan didn't interest you in the slightest, but you felt powerful seeing him like this... you sighed, turning your gaze to the front, turning your eyelashes in an interesting way, with a flirtatious smile on your lips... If only, he would had been the one in who you were interested... you laughed quietly. In that of conquering, you were a total Targaryen…

"Do you want me to join you tonight? To the dinner, I mean" Alys smoothed her skirt as she looked around the office for her panties. As a form of relief, they just had a quick shag. He was always stressed before you came to spend the summer in the capital.

"Of course not" Aemond buckled up. He plopped down on his office chair. “If you come with me today, things will only get worse. I assure". He picked up a cigarette and used his Zippo to light it. Finally, Alys found her panties and put them on as if nothing had happened. She approached his desk table, swaggering. Alys might be ten years older than him, but she knew how to move. No one could deny that. She leaned against the table, her cleavage meeting Aemond's gaze.

"Yeah… She was so… upset on her last birthday when she saw me with you" she laughed flirtatiously "She's so cute when she's jealous" she smiled sensually. Aemond only snorted at her words.

"She's a girl and she's my niece" he answered, disturbed. He took another puff and blew the smoke out his nose. He didn't look away as he leaned into his chair. He challenged her to keep talking. But, Alys had no way of stopping when an idea was inside her head. Perhaps, that was the reason why they were just friends with benefits. She didn't know when to stop her mouth.

“When she looks at you, her eyes light up. Didn't you notice that? Maybe, she may just be a little innocent girl. She may be your beloved niece" she pouted trying to imitate a young girl "But she really wants to sleep with you, Aemond. And sometimes I think you want the same thing,” Alys snorted. Aemond just smiled at his secretary.

"I think the only jealous one here is you, Alys" he responded to her provocations. She laughed mischievously.

“Aemond, on her last birthday you gave her a red lipstick. It was one of your gifts. A good one, very expensive ” she smiled like the devil again“ And the following week you asked me to paint my lips the same color to suck your cock, exactly the same color ”

"Pure coincidence," he continued, stoically. Her big mouth spoiled the fun and relief that her pussy gave him. His phone began to vibrate. He glanced quickly at the screen and his good eye narrowed in annoyance. He had said that he had to work that Saturday morning, and not to be disturbed. He needed to get away from you. It was the best because what he had felt in his pants when he saw you last year again... it wasn't ethical... nor moral...

"Who is now?" Alys replied, crossing her arms in front of him, also annoyed by the interruption. She liked to tease Aemond. It really was one of the games that excited her the most. Aemond did not answer her. He just picked up the phone and spoke in a firm voice after taking a drag on his cigarette.

"Mother" Aemond greeted her on the other end of the line and smiled silently as he watched Alys turn with feigned annoyance and leave his office, closing the door behind her. "How are you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard from her in months, and he had just seen her that morning, but it was pure courtesy. He knew that if his mother called him, it was to send him some task that the rest of his brothers did not want to do.

"You have to go to the airport to pick up (Y/N)" Alicent told him, without hesitation, as if it were an order. It really was. But, if there was one thing Aemond hated, it was being ordered around. So, he just took another drag on his cigarette and he tried to sound persuasive.

"Can't her father go?" he answered her. After all, Aegon was your father, and Aemond had been responsible for you for a long time. He tried to convince himself that this change in attitude was due to being fed up with taking over the responsibilities of his older brother, but it really wasn't like that. Something much darker was happening to him with you than he refused to admit.

"Aemond" he heard his mother blurt out desperately, as if he was the last one she had asked. It was. Aemond was the last one she had turned to, and she was scolding him for something the others had also refused to do.

“Send Cole, with the black Mercedes. Surely (Y/N) loves it” he answered, knowing that you wouldn't be excited, but he couldn't seem to be able to spend some time alone with you like before... he preferred you to be treated as someone from outside the family. Maybe that's how he could manage to hide what he felt...

"I need that girl to feel like one of the family." After a moment in silence, Alicent spoke. Aegon and Aemond were so alike to her at times, she didn't know what to do. That proposition was proof of that. They had both suggested the same thing, and Alicent kept wondering why.

“I think you're late, mother. (Y/N) is a Dayne, like her mother” he leaned back in his chair in a cocky attitude. He didn't want to argue with his mother, he didn't want to threaten her, but your presence made him feel too many things that weren't right for a man as strict and upright as him. "If she were a Targaryen, she'd be completely different," he said, but then a thought crossed his mind: If you were a Dayne, why did his blood boil every time he saw you with that dark desire of his house? He sighed, you were out of his reach and he couldn't seem to control himself to show you…your place…on a simple car trip alone…he shook his head. He had to be himself again. Not a character from his house from 500 years ago.

"Whether you like it or not, that girl is a Targaryen... one of us..." Alicent replied tiredly. Aemond knew from the tone his mother was using, the conversation was ending, and he was not going to miss the opportunity to feel powerful.

“Send Cole. If she's one of us, she'll love it” he tried to smile and sound arrogant, a sneer on his lips. What was happening to him with you? He needed to be like that so he wouldn't let himself be consumed by what he felt. It had already happened to him last summer when he went looking for you after Aegon forgot. When he saw you... when he saw you, he would have shown you why they called you dragons... he was still thinking about that top that showed too much and those shorts that were too short for a girl who wasn't looking for provoking him... you had looked for him... Yes, you were a damn Dornishwoman... a girl of Starfall... and now, when he saw you, he was feeling like a dragon ready to destroy everything for... a simple moment between your legs... he took another puff and expelled the smoke through his nose... he felt like a monster because of you, and he hated himself even more for blaming you for what happened to him every time he saw you. He collected himself. He was Aemond Targaryen. The CEO of Targaryen Industries. He could spend a summer ignoring you. He had already done it in the past. It wasn't hard. “For tonight's all-family dinner, I'll be late. I have a lot of work,” he lied and Alicent didn't even speak. She just sighed tiredly, without wanting to say much more to her son.

"As you wish" Alicent replied reluctantly. Then it would be Cole coming after you. Alicent closed her eyes wearily. From the day you were born, you had become yet another headache for that highly functional family.

You took your suitcase from the belt that carried it. You took the House of Dayne bracelet that you always put on the handle to drag it and that allowed you to differentiate it from the others. You could wear another cloth bracelet, one with dragons on it, but by the age of 10 you had begun to realize that you were a Dornish girl, with all that that entailed. You were not a dragon. No one in your father's house had treated you like one of the others, except your Aunt Helaena and your Uncle Aemond. And the last one had completely ignored you last year and you didn't even want to understand why. Your grandmother Alicent had tried to make you feel like one of them in every way, but she, like you, wasn't a dragon, so she didn't count. You remembered smiling to yourself that summer that you had dyed your hair silver before going to spend the summer with your father. You wanted to be one of them... and, even though no one had asked whose daughter you were, you had gotten bored and finally let it go... you planned to change your last name before starting university. You would tell your father at the end of that summer… after all, that was the last summer your parents' joint custody ended. Afterwards, you wouldn't have to go back to that house if you didn't want to. You dragged the suitcase to the exit, along with the shoulder bag that always accompanied you and on which you had put a patch with the heraldry of your mother's house two years ago. Aemond had laughed when he had seen you like this. You were then sixteen years old. When you did, your uncle had marveled at that brazen act of rebellion as soon as you walked through the door of their family home in downtown King's Landing. He had laughed until you followed his laugh and hugged him in greeting. Those had been good times. In which he still had time for you. Your father had silently scrutinized you without saying much and your aunt Helaena had tried to reason with you why you should carry the Targaryen dragon as well. Finally, it had been Aemond who had convinced you to sew both, just as he had done with the heraldry of his parents when he had been your age on his also favorite backpack. You had glued it together one summer night, late at dawn... you had blushed when you felt it throw your arm over it on that terrace that overlooked the wide patio of the family residence once you had finished... and, then, you had realized that your uncle... he... was what you were looking for in a man... that you would have done anything for him to kiss you... and after that night in king's landing you returned to Starfall with both shields. Your maternal grandfather had frowned upon seeing you, reminding you that at the end of the day they were the ones who stayed by your side, but you left the Targaryen emblem that year because at least there was one who cared... who loved you... who esteemed you...

After how Aemond had ignored you last summer, you had ripped it off when you returned to Starfall, and now you only carried the heraldry of your maternal house, much to the delight of your maternal grandfather, who sometimes you felt was using you as a thrown weapon against the house of the dragon, but you couldn't blame him. You knew little of your parents' breakup, but your mother hadn't had a good time. You understood your grandfather's sentiment to protect your mother at all costs, even if it meant throwing yourself against the dragons. Your mother's family viewed you as a dragon, your father's family as a Dayne. The feeling of not belonging was the only thing you'd grown up with, but, you were a Dayne, of Starfall. Yes, you convinced yourself. That's what you were.

You saw Cregan in a fleeting moment, and he came up to you. You two had spent the whole flight talking, and the truth was that you had also been flirtatious throughout the trip. “Do you need me to help you call a taxi or…?” he told you with kindness and that closed northern accent, smiling at you. He was trying to be polite to the daughter of an old acquaintance, even though you felt there was something else to it, too, after spending the entire flight laughing with you and your coquettish manners.

"No, I think they're coming for me" you shrugged with a charming smile and he was entranced looking at you. You had seen on the plane that he had a wedding ring mark on his finger, so he must have recently divorced...

"Oh, well" he told you delaying his departure, although it was obvious that a very expensive car was waiting for him at the door. He quickly opened his wallet and took out a business card on which he scribbled something on the back with the pen he carried in his pocket. "My card, in case your uncle Daeron doesn't have my phone" he said offering it to you and you took it with a polite smile, to finish putting it in one of the pockets of the shoulder bag.

"I'll give it to him" you answered with a smile, polite and correct.

“The truth is… that behind I have written my personal cell phone. I'm going to be in King's Landing on business until the end of next month” he smiled charmingly at you. You blushed and looked away with a smile "If you ever want to have a coffee... or go to dinner..." he suggested with a mischievous half smile and you laughed charmingly. You weren't interested in the slightest, but you found it irresistible to start having that power over men.

"I will take that fully into account" you answered, superficial and attractive, as if that helped you to appease the pain you felt for Aemond not being interested in that way by you...

"Miss (Y/N)" Cole interrupted the conversation, correctly and perfectly. His hair is always well combed and with a sober face behind his sunglasses. Your grandmother's favorite bodyguard... so, yes, in the end he had come to pick you up, but it hadn't been anyone from the family. Cole was her most trusted worker, but he wasn't your father, he wasn't your aunt Helaena, he wasn't Daeron either… let alone Aemond. Cregan said goodbye quickly giving you two kisses, indicating that he hoped to see you throughout that summer, and you went to Cole. "Her suitcase of hers, miss (Y / N)" he told him as he reached to pick it up.

"No, do not worry. I can" you replied, holding on to the handle, but he kept insisting.

“It wasn't a question, miss (Y/N). Your grandmother would kill me if she finds out that I let you carry it, it's my job" he replied carrying the suitcase himself while you followed him to that luxurious and expensive car, parked at the airport door, because your father's family could allowed to park where they wanted. No one was ever going to say anything against the owners of Targaryen Industries. While Cole put the suitcase in the trunk, you took your mobile phone from the pocket of those very short pants and turned it on. A couple of messages from friends, another from your mother asking you to let her know when you'll arrive… and another from your grandmother Alicent indicating that Cole would come for you, since the others were very busy with company matters. You sighed, did it matter how little you meant to them? That was going to be your last summer there, it was starting to become clear to you. Cole slammed the trunk shut and opened the rear seat door for you to sit there. Your mouth was about to open to ask him to go in the passenger seat, but you knew it was stupid. Cole must have been the person who took his job in the world the most seriously. You just walked in, sat in that leather upholstered car and sighed as the bodyguard took his seat and started the car engine. You were looking at your phone while the car was moving slowly when Cole broke the silence again.

“How have you been doing this last year of high school?” he asked, taking a quick glance in the rearview mirror, trying to make conversation. "Your uncle Aemond told me that you are an exceptional student." Aemond had said that…? Well, you weren't bad at studying, but to be exceptional was to have the grades he would have had in high school. He compared you to him, he always had and that's why you guys had such a good rapport until last summer. Even that year he hadn't even written to you once, when before he had done it almost daily. Distance. That was what you thought he was marking, distance. But he kept showing off about you, or at least that was what you had intuited from Cole's words.

"Fine, normal. I passed everything. Now I´m thinking that's what I'll do with my life next year” you joked, and Cole flashed what must have been a smile on such a serious face.

"I thought you had been admitted to the King's Landing Business School, that you were going to follow in your father's footsteps," he told you, his attention fixed on the road. You laughed sweetly.

"The company would end up sinking if I got to be in charge" you continued laughing and Cole looked at you in the rearview mirror again, this time with concern, as if he hadn't expected your answer.

"Well, you're a Targaryen, your place is in the family business, like your father's and your uncles'," he said with concern, as if he didn't understand that you couldn't feel like one of them, as if your place really… were there. No. You didn't belong to the Targaryens…if not…one of them would have come looking for you instead of sending Cole.

You both continued in silence. You answering messages on your phone and Cole driving. Did anyone from your paternal family really expect you to follow in their footsteps? Perhaps it was what might have been expected in another situation, but not at a time like this. You were not your father's daughter. Helaena and Daeron always tended to forget your birthday and… Aemond had decided to ignore you forever… What was expected of you? They couldn't demand anything of you. They couldn't because you weren't one of them. Those pretty eyes. Those eyes so pretty, that now they looked so sad, was all you had of them. You suppressed the urge to cry as Cole continued to drive. You were nothing to your father, nor to your uncles, but what hurt you the most was to be nothing to… Aemond.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x you

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isaksbestpillow · 2 months

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Ossan's Love Returns episode 7 eng sub

It's me and some freshly baked subs again! Notes below the cut. Two more episodes to go, I try my best to finish them in the upcoming weeks. This episode is so lovely, please watch it!!!!

Previous episodes, welcome on board: Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6

Episode 7

RAW

subtitle

Do not reupload to any streaming sites.

Notes

The title of the episode (How do you live) is also the title of a novel by Yoshino Genzaburou and the Japanese title of Miyazaki's The Boy and the Heron. I've been lazy and not translated the previous titles but this one felt important enough to include.

Fukuro/bukuro: bag

Isshou isshoni itekureya: When Izumi completes Haruta's sentence after asking him about Maki, the line is a lyric from Lifetime Respect by Miki Douzan. It was a big hit in 2001.

youtube

Single mothers are some of the most socially disadvantaged groups in Japan and their plight is only worsening. 50% of single-parent households live in poverty.

Drag/drug are pronounced the same in Japanese (doraggu).

Anta: This is a rude second person pronoun that stands out because Izumi is usually well-mannered at work and never calls Haruta anything but Haruta-san. I obviously couldn't translate it literally since it literally just translates to you.

They make you drink barium at the annual health checkup to screen stomach cancer. I was very weirded out this when I first got the invite to a screening but apparently stomach cancer is still one of the leading cancers in Japan due to helicobacter.

Shiruko: a dessert made with azuki beans.

Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be tagged!):

@babeluda @twig-tea @nieves-de-sugui @nongnaos @veikonvihannekset @bengiyo @thirstkanaphan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @faillen @ellieellieoxenfree @randifrn @fromisstar @lurkingshan @penguin251159 @i-remember-yyou @remadi @thesedamncannibals @sewichii @littleragondin @thegalwhorants @mirkoscarrot

Please enjoy!!!!

#ossan's love returns #ossan's love #my translations

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palestaticexchange · 5 months

Text

Welcome To The Pale Static Exchange

HOW IT WORKS:

Fill in this form to be included in the draw. On December 4th I'll post a link to an incognito draw link and you need to click on your own URL to see who you've drawn. I will also post a link to a PDF grid of everyone's likes/ dislikes. Everyone will be tagged on the post so hopefully nobody misses it when it goes live :)

This is new information, if you've listed something on the form you'd rather not have other people see for whatever reason, then please let me know and I'll amend it for you.

The draw has now been posted! If you've signed up access it: HERE

To see people's likes/ dislikes then DM me (on this blog) and I will send you the access link

You have until December 28th to create something; be that art, writing, music, ect. On the 28th you then post your work and @ tag @ your partner in it! You can also submit it to this blog if you like, however I will likely share everyone's works once they're live.

There's a grace period of one day due to timezones, etc, but if you've not posted by the 30th then I will GET you (kidding of course, but if you fill in the form then PLEASE do try to create something for your partner, even if it's something small)

Obviously things do come up, so if it's looking like you won't be able to create something then please get in contact ASAP so that I can sort something out.

FAQ

PALE STATIC INFO

LORE??

#disco Elysium #DE gift exchange #pale static exchange

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spicyseonghwas · 8 months

Text

blood love - song mingi

pairing :: song mingi x male reader, mingi x yunho crumbs

viewer rating :: varies per chapter (bc of the content of each one)

genres :: fantasy, romance, smut

au's :: vampire!mingi (very old vampire), faerie!reader, hybrid!yunho

content warnings :: most will be listed with each chapter, but the series will include the following:

vampires & fae, kissing, physical contact, blood, death, food, cursing, alcohol consumption, possessive mingi, mind games, hickeys, sadism, masochism, vampire porn :3 (ie: sexual content), and at one point mingi roofies the reader on a date (what a dick am i right)

summary ::

song mingi, the very first- and only- and last- vampire the byzantine empire ever saw, never in all his 1,045 years, 2 months, and 10 days of life, thought eh would ever do something as... human... as fall in love.

love...

what a trivial thing...

or maybe not?

and l/n m/n, the live and existing- and heavily triple-checked- faerie in all of seoul, south korea, falls in and out of love like a flying fish in and out of the summer sea.

until one seemingly normal spring day, that is...

will song mingi change m/n's views on love?

or will m/n just be another snack for this ancient, wise vampire?

masterlist & chapter viewer ratings ::

chapter 1 | 15+

chapter 2 | 15+

chapter 3 | 16+ (potentially sensitive content)

chapter 4 | 16+ (potentially sensitive content)

chapter 5 | finale 18+ (sexual content)

chapter 6 | epilogue 16+

author's notes below the cut! if you want to be added to the series taglist, pleasse go here! no dm's pls! i promise you i will lose track of dm's... divider credit to @cafekitsune !

networks :: @cacaokpop-fics @preciousillusions-net

author's notes ::

+| please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series and any updates on it and its progress!

+| this story also happens to be one of the possible plotlines for mingi's interactive on the cryptids!ateez chatbot ive been working on for a good like... nine friggen months... hehe- except that hes a werewolf in the chatbot system, not the legendary byzantine vampire hahahahahahaha

+| but yeh. this is the reason ive been so radio silent lately... (my apologies about that friends :<) ive been working hard on this for like the whole school year so far (three weeks...)

#chaece.exe 🌑#fever.dreams 🌑#teasers 🌑#cacaokpop #preciousillusionsnet #ateez #mingi #song mingi #ateez x male reader #song mingi x male reader #ateez x male reader smut #vampire!ateez #8 makes 1 team #mingi smut #vampire!mingi #mingi x male reader #mingi x male reader smut #song mingi x male reader smut

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: The fact that the idea for this part was already causing me such INTENSE brainrot way before I even finished writing Part 2 (which is pretty funny cuz I actually had a TOTALLY different idea compared to how this part is now, but hey my stoopid brain does what it does) 👁👄👁 Anyhoe, I am SO stoked for this (it also turned out quite long)!! It's finally got ✨️smut✨️ which I know my fellow sluts have been waiting for, BUT it's not the actual sexy sex yet cuz I'm saving that for the last part. Don't worry, it'll definitely be worth it~ ;)

BTW there's a part in this where Steven recites French poetry by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore and I used Google Translate for the English, so if the translation is off then I'm very sorry!

And I just wanna thank y'all sooo much again from the bottom of mah lil black heart, like SERIOUSLY! You lovelies are truly spoiling me with all your sweet comments, likes, and reblogs 😭❤️❤️❤️ And I swear that after the unexpectedly huge success of this fic, it made me fall RIDICULOUSLY HARDER for Oscar ISNACC and I have y'all to blame for dragging me even deeper into DILF Hell Heaven. Like, it's actually a problem when I suddenly feel like giggling and kicking my feet while I'm suffering at work just at the thought of him 😂

I also haven't been this confident and motivated in a while, and this is one of the VERY rare times I'm actually updating pretty quickly without the temptation of slacking off and abandoning it. I love writing and this fic is my baby, and it's just so fucking incredible that you guys are loving what I'm putting out, too, so once more: THANK YOU 🥰

Who knows, maaaybe more Moon Knight fics will come out in the future from me and fingers crossed that Moon Knight Season 2 will be confirmed 🤭

And the tag list has been updated! I also included some readers who I thought wanted to follow this whole series, so if you find yourself tagged despite not asking to be then that's why LMAO xD As always, the tag list is open so don't be shy to ask if you'd like to be added on it! ^_^

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp

Part 3: Like a virgin, touched for the very first time

After the flurry of honesty and an insane whirlwind of emotions, you and Steven finally winded down. It was a bit awkward following that, but he asked (well, sputtered) if you'd like to stay. He immediately apologized, knowing that he was overstepping boundaries and he completely understands if you rejected such a mental idea.

But it was late, and there was absolutely no way he was going to let you go home alone especially with the state you're in. And also...

Well, call him a selfish knob, but he just wanted--needed--to be with you.

But you agreed to stay--enthusiastically so. You both were flustered, though sharing a laugh together had all the tension fade away.

Because, truly, you were right where you were supposed to be.

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven prepared dinner for the two of you, consisting of five-minute vegan mac and cheese courtesy of his microwave then indulging yourselves with the box of chocolates he brought at the failed date for dessert. It wasn't "grand" by any means, but it was the best you ate in a long time.

All thanks to the cute host... Actually, your gorgeous boyfriend.

Just the thought had you grinning like a doofus, the butterflies in your belly now transforming into fucking birds.

Did that make sense? Hell no, but being with Steven absolutely did.

"Love..." Steven's strong arms encircled around your waist from behind, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Make yourself comfortable, yeah? Don't worry, I'll sleep on the couch."

You gasped, affronted, quickly whipping around to face him. "Excuse you, sir, but I have every reason to be worried!" You huffed dramatically. "You are definitely not sleeping on the couch, Steven. And if you still insist that you are, then I'll just join you!"

Steven chuckled, his cheeks glowing pink. He rested his chin atop your head, pulling you closer to him. "The couch is too small for the two of us... So for a good night's sleep, I suppose I have no choice but to share the bed with you, yeah?"

"You say that as if you'd rather not." You pouted playfully, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head against his chest. You can faintly hear the erratic thrum of his heartbeat, matching your own.

"I'm just pulling your leg, sweetheart." He teased, kissing your head.

How the fuck did he ever get so lucky? He thought he was going crazy, that this was all just a dream--but it wasn't. Dreams were never this good. You were right here, right now, in his arms. Wholly accepting him for who he is. Loving him.

And he fucking loved you, too.

"Where's the bathroom, baby?"

Baby. The name made his heart stop for a full second. Heat once again crept up to his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears, his voice not coming out as all he could do was just point towards the bathroom as he stared down at you in a completely lovestruck sort of wonder.

You giggled, blushing as well before leaning up on your tiptoes and pecking his nose. "You go relax, Steven. I'll join you soon."

He watched you saunter off, still glued in place and a hand atop his frenzied heart.

He had no idea how in the world he was supposed to relax, especially now that the situation fully hit him like a freight train. But thankfully, he found his legs moving for him and his body taking the liberty of changing into his cozy pyjamas before climbing onto bed.

He put on his ankle restraint and settled down, covering the blanket over him like some posh Victorian duchess as he laid completely stiff. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, lifting his head and squinting every so often at the closed bathroom and your obscure shadow dancing amidst the light peeking through the tiny crack of the door underneath.

And it was so...quiet. Neither Marc nor Jake has uttered a single peep, which was highly unusual. Either one or both of them always had something to say, regardless of whatever Steven was doing and he was the same whenever they were fronting.

But as of the moment, he couldn't even handle speaking with Marc. Not after what he did. Marc and Jake were his family and there was no doubt that he and Marc will eventually make up, but no one was ever allowed to hurt you--especially now that you two were officially together.

Jake, on the other hand... Well, he was known to butt into Steven's business. But Jake always gave him a good push, and he would never actually force Steven to do something if Jake didn't believe he could do it. Truly, Steven owed Jake for technically setting you and him up.

But besides Marc, Steven was more surprised that Jake wasn't yapping away especially when you were involved. It didn't go unnoticed for Steven the way Jake has...changed. Only when you were around, at least. And despite Jake being the stealthiest of them all, Steven could always feel him silently observing you at work deep within the recesses of his mind.

But Steven never said anything. He just understood--accepted--Jake, and he was sure that Jake knew. But Steven didn't mind it; in fact, it made him feel less alone.

After all, how could anyone ever resist you?

He then sighed deeply, shaking his head. Clearly it was no use just laying in his bed like a corpse, so he sat up and threw the blanket off before grabbing a random book from his bedside table and donned his glasses. But his brain was too muddled, heart still not ceasing its turbulent thump as he couldn't even register the words popping out of the worn pages he has read a thousand times.

"So you wear glasses, too, huh?"

He flinched slightly at your voice, seeing you standing at the foot of his bed. You chuckled softly before your eyes landed on his ankle restraint, raising a brow.

"S-Sorry, it's..." He scrambled for something--anything. "I...I know it's a huge red flag, but I have a...sleeping disorder. I promise it ain't for something, um...sexual."

"No need to make excuses, Steven. I don't think it's a red flag."

'And I wouldn't mind if you used it on ME.' You bit back the risqué words that nearly tumbled out your foolish, needy mouth.

Steven only smiled shyly, putting the book away before he gasped when he suddenly felt something plop down on his lap.

Something soft, warm, and lovely.

"Is...is this okay..?" Now it was your turn to be shy, meeting his gaze tentatively.

"More than okay." He breathed, staring up at you with an awed grin. "Gods, Y/N, you're beautiful."

"Thanks, this is my 'I wonder how I didn't pass out from running the most I never thought I could' look." You laughed. But Steven didn't, guilt clouding his features.

He placed his hands on your hips, brows knitting together and jaw squaring. "I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn't have to do that, didn't have to meet me. I would've hated it, but I would've totally understood if you never wanted to see me again. And yet...I was happy when you did come."

"I'm happy, too, Steven." You assured him, one hand on his shoulder while the other combed through his fluffy curls. "And honestly, I would do it again. If you were in, hell, Egypt--I'd still find a way to you, no matter what."

His expression softened, a smile replacing his frown as he leaned forward and laid his head on your chest. "Please do one favour for me, though?" You kept quiet, patiently awaiting his words. "If you ever meet Marc, punch the prick."

"Baby, I can only slap him! No way I'd ever damage your godsent face." You laughed again, little snorts wracking your body that Steven found so damn endearing. Then he looked up, his chin resting in between the pillowy softness of your breasts.

"Love... Call me that again."

"Baby." You obeyed with zero hesitation, and Steven groaned. A deep, rumbly sound that sent tingles all throughout your body. You lightly tugged on his hair, making his head tip back and gaze locking with his pretty brown eyes that have gotten darker, pupils dilated.

"Baby..." Your voice came out as a pathetic whine, your hand on his shoulder holding on for dear life. "Wanna kiss you."

Like a predator pouncing on its prey, Steven swooped up to catch your lips--only for the both of your glasses to bump into each other.

An awkward beat passed between the two of you before you both exploded into riotous laughter. The two of you fell side by side on the bed, giggling so much that tears sprang to your eyes and your stomachs hurt.

Once you two finally calmed down, you exchanged bright smiles and Steven rolled on top of you. His elbows dug into the bed on either side of you, making sure not to bear down his weight on you. He then took off both of your glasses, setting them aside on the bedside table.

"Shall we try again, love?" But Steven didn't wait for your response, crashing his lips with yours.

It was chaste. Feather light. So much better than what you ever imagined it to be like. Steven's lips were unexpectedly soft, but there was a certain firmness in the way he kissed you. Your eyes fluttered shut, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss.

Steven cradled the side of your face gently, lovingly, as if he was handling glass. Then, experimentally, you nipped on his bottom lip. He gasped sharply, and you slid your tongue inside his mouth.

It was obvious how inexperienced you were, but Steven certainly didn't mind. In fact, it only turned him on even more that you wanted to spend your precious first time with him.

And he was definitely never letting you go.

You moved your tongue uncertainly, small panic brewing inside of you if you were doing it right. All those shows and movies made kissing look so easy; but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts as Steven's tongue tangled with yours, taking the lead as he coaxed you into a lazy, sensual dance.

And that drew a long, beautiful moan out of you. Steven craved more, more, more--wanting to push you to the very limit, a lustful, greedy beast suddenly possessing his body.

But oh, he knew, deep down, that beast has always been there; waiting for the right moment to be released.

Waiting for you.

He then slowly pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues. Your entire body was flushed, lips puffy and eyes hazy with anguished yearning as you stared up at him. Your hands reached out, clinging on tightly to his black sweatshirt. Despite being on the bed, you felt as if you were free falling into a bottomless pit.

And you wanted to fall--with Steven.

"Steven..." You murmured, one leg wrapping around his waist. "Are you gonna make love to me?"

"No." His reply was instant, levelling his gaze with yours. "I will, but not tonight, darling. I don't have any condoms."

"I...I don't mind..."

A low purr reverberated from his throat. Fuck, were you even aware of what you were saying? Of the sweet, tempting danger it entailed?

He might as well just tie you up, keep you in his apartment forever. With him. ONLY him.

He shook his head, quickly stamping down such dark, possessive thoughts.

"Love." He emphasized through clenched teeth, and you saw the way his inner conflict flickered in his eyes. "Not tonight, Y/N. But that doesn't mean I can't still please you, yeah?"

He pulled your leg off of his waist then pressed his lips to your ankle, electricity coursing directly to where you desired it most.

He never broke eye contact, his lips slowly trailing down the smooth expanse of your leg before pausing at your crotch. He chuckled deeply, ignoring it as he moved to your stomach.

You mewled desperately, wiggling slightly. "Baby." You pleaded, nearly breathless. "Please... Don't fuckin' tease me."

"M'sorry, pretty girl. Just let me worship you, yeah? You deserve it." He hummed, completely unbothered. "I deserve it."

He pushed up your tank top, your breasts spilling erotically and...fuck, was that a belly button piercing?

"First year of college. It was a completely lucid decision." You giggled at his stunned expression. "Hurt like a bitch, but I've always wanted one."

"Looks like I'm not the only one with secrets, then." He chuckled, kissing your belly with utmost tenderness and your breath getting caught in your throat. His lips languidly traced upwards, reaching your breasts and burying his face in between them and inhaling deeply.

Now he understood why Jake wouldn't shut the hell up about the way you smelled after asking you out.

His left hand groped one of your breasts, breath stuttering at the wonderful plushness. Then he raised his head, eyes locking intently with yours once more as his tongue flicked your pert nipple. You whimpered for more, more, more--back arching as you eagerly offered yourself to him.

And he just as eagerly accepted your gracious offer, mouth latching on to your nipple. You moaned as he sucked and squeezed, his teeth grazing slightly against the sensitive bud, only magnifying the maddening sensations you had no control over yet had the privilege to be a willing victim to.

He pulled away with a resounding 'pop' before giving your other breast equal devoted attention, his right hand making its descent lower, lower, lower--slipping inside your shorts and his chest blazing at the dampness that greeted him.

"Bloody hell..." He grunted, erection straining painfully against his pyjama pants. He glanced down, his much larger hand cupping your entire pussy. "Wanna fucking taste you, angel. Can I? Please, love, I wanna taste your pretty pussy."

"Y-You don't even have to ask..." You squeaked, completely scarlet from head to toe. "Just take me, baby."

Steven grinned wolfishly, a gleam in his eyes that you've never seen before making your heart skip a beat. Without wasting another moment, he practically ripped your shorts off. He groaned as he saw the wet splotch in the middle of your panties, yanking them down your legs before bringing it up to his nose as a shiver ran down his spine at your intoxicating scent.

Your arousal was flowing down to your thighs, eyes glazed over as if in a trance as you watched Steven sniff your panties like a beast in heat. Then he shimmied out of his pants, your eyes widening as his cock stood proudly; thick and veiny, the tip an angry red and leaking with pre-cum. His fist, still clutching on to your panties, wrapped around his cock as he leaned down to meet your pussy.

Instinctively, you snapped your legs shut, hands flying to your face.

"I-I'm sorry!" You sobbed, briskly shaking your head. "I'm sorry, so sorry! I...I can't, Steven..."

You expected him to be furious, and honestly you'd understand if he was. What you didn't expect, however, was him gently removing your hands and tenderly kissing away your tears.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, love." He assured, his hands massaging soothing circles on yours. "What's the matter? You don't want to continue?"

"I-I do, it's just..." You sniffled, blinking away tears and meeting his concerned gaze. "I'm...I'm embarrassed, Steven. It's just... Y-You know it's my first time, and you're doing amazing, it's just...I'm scared I'm not. I...have no idea what the fuck to do, and I'm not even pretty."

"That's not true." His voice was firm, jaw ticking resolutely. His brows furrowed, expression the most serious you've ever seen it. "You're bloody gorgeous, Y/N. I'm the git who doesn't know what the hell you see in me. And don't fret about being inexperienced, love. I'm so happy that you wanna be with me, and if you'd allow me, I wanna spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You stayed silent, then your lips curved up into a dazzling smile that had Steven utterly weak in the knees. What the hell were you so anxious about, anyway? This was Steven Grant, the man of your wildest dreams. The man you loved.

"I love you, Steven."

Steven froze, tears prickling his eyes. Something between a sob and a chuckle escaped him, positively beaming down at you.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

He then parted your legs, hands quivering slightly. "I love you..." He crouched down, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. "...so fucking much." His tongue darted out, licking the beautiful stretch marks that lined the supple skin of your thighs.

His tongue slowly wandered up, up, up, and you were scarcely breathing once his face was in front of your cunt. His hot breath fanned against your clit; dark, nearly black eyes fixed on yours.

"Quand je vivais tendre et craintive amante..." He recited in French, smiling up at you. "...avec ses feux je peignais ses douleurs."

When I was a tender and fearful lover, with her fires I painted her pains.

You had noticed earlier the French poetry books stacked on Steven's desk, but goddammit you didn't expect he would quote one while he was right in front of your pussy.

You were sure this absolutely sexy menace of a man was trying to murder you.

His thumb then brushed against your clit, making you gasp. He grinned widely, pushing down on your nub as you whimpered and squirmed helplessly.

"Baby..." You begged, tears pouring down your pretty pink cheeks, and there must be something severely wrong with Steven to find it so enticing. "Pretty please... Fuck me with your mouth."

And how could he ever say no to that? He was merely a loyal, desperate slave for his goddess' wishes. For her love.

And so, like a parched man in the desert, he buried his face in your sopping pussy. You yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sudden--but very much not unwelcomed--intrusion into your deepest, most intimate part.

Steven's groan of appreciation vibrated within your gummy walls, inching ever so deeper, feeling his nose hit a bundle of nerves. Then his tongue licked a long, slow stripe along your mound and up to your clit. You cried out, a broken, pornographic song that echoed throughout Steven's entire flat.

"Gods..." His voice was low, trembling; one hand yet again wrapping around his aching cock, the flimsy fabric of your panties hugging the tip. "You've no idea how much I dreamt of this, Y/N. Waited for this." His other hand settled on your pussy, deft fingers running along your drenched folds. "Such a good girl, tastes so fucking good."

He puckered his lips, kissing your pussy. And the sounds that accompanied were downright filthy, Steven moaning shamelessly, loud squelches and the heady smell of your sex filling the air.

Slowly, carefully, he thrusted a finger inside of you. You keened, your thighs squishing Steven's head and your hands gripping onto his hair. He then added another finger, scissoring his digits and you knew right then and there that you were losing what's barely left of your fucking mind.

You grinded against him, and he bobbed his head zealously in perfect tandem with you. His tongue lapped up and down, up and down, before suddenly driving it inside your hole.

He was rubbing his cock vigorously, watching you, burning this marvelous moment for all eternity into his memories. And as soon as a third finger slipped in, you were fucking gone.

You screamed, finally reaching that peak and falling over it, seeing stars. You gushed around his mouth, and Steven noisily slurped it all up, not daring to leave behind a single drop.

He soon followed, grunting animalistically as his cum sprayed all over your panties. He collapsed against your pussy, in between the heavenly plushness of your thighs, panting raggedly.

Neither of you knew how long you both stayed like that, coming down from your high, until you sliced through the serene silence.

"Wow... Just...wow."

Steven chuckled breathlessly, looking up at you with your wetness glistening on his lips and chin. "Wow, indeed." He then leaned forward, and you gasped as his lips suckled on the skin right next to your clit, claiming you with a dark purple mark.

"You'll be the fucking death of me, Steven Grant." You groaned playfully, pulling on his hair.

He grinned, crawling over your body before moulding your lips together in a passionate liplock. His tongue entwined with yours and you could taste yourself, your brain short circuiting.

He slowly drew away, gently knocking his forehead against yours as his grin grew impossibly bigger.

"I'll make love to you at the Field of Reeds, then."

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southernbluebellereader · 1 year

Note

Can i request for a family trip with captain price x fem reader and the task force 141 going on a trip to disneyland and price and reader being ultimate parents mode and they also act like a old married couple and the task force teases them about it 👀

Family Day

Captain John Price x F! Wife Reader acting like a old married couple

Warnings: Some cursing, Price being Dad, Task Force 141 being absolut children. Mention of death.

Master List (Tag List at the bottom)

A/N: OMG THIS THIS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN. I LOVE IT. I'm gonna make the reader a civilian because for some reason that makes more sense to me? I hope you like it though! Thank you so much!!

"Simon, baby, your face paint is not sunscreen," You sigh as you beckon him to come closer to you as you pull out a baby wipe out of your pocketbook.

"Bu-"

"Ah! No buts, no cuts, no coconuts! You ain't leaving this room until I get this off of you. C'mere."

Simon did as he was told and leaned forward, letting you, Mrs. Price, wipe the black face paint he habitually put on nearly every day. Johnny snickered as he watched you wipe Simon's face. Annoyance radiated from his body.

"Oh hush, Johnny! Didn't you burn your ears on your last mission?"

Johnny stopped laughing, mumbling under his breath.

"Hey!" Johnathan shot at Johnny, then chuckled, "Don't burn your ears off, Johnny."

Kyle was looking around the hotel room, scratching his head, "Anyone seen my hat?"

Simon and Johnny let out a 'dunno' in unison, making you and Johnathan sigh in unison, "Didn't you wear it when we got here?" he asked.

"Yeah bu-"

"You mean this one?" You held the hat in your hand, smiling. Kyle thanked you and put it on. Johnathan rounded everybody up as you packed extra sunscreen, snacks, and water.

---

How you and Johnathan managed to bring three adult soldiers to Disney World, neither of you know. But all of you are here. Johnny wanted to go on every ride. Simon refused to take pictures with Mickey Mouse. Kyle thought it was too hot.

"Simon, please, it's just one picture. You like Mickey Mouse!" You begged and pleaded. Johnathan chuckled as he held the camera. Kyle and Johnny whined. You eventually pulled Simon by the arm and placed him beside the person dressed up as Mickey Mouse.

You looked up at Simon and adjusted his collar, "Just one picture, that's all I'm asking for, aight?"

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled and took a deep breath. You gave him a reassuring smile, "I promise you won't regret it, sweetheart. I know it's a little overwhelming, but we gone go eat soon."

You went back to your husband, letting him take a few pictures of the boys, trying to encourage them to smile. Such an odd sight. You and Johnathan and his stupid hat that he insisted on bringing with him, he almost had a fit at the airport security when he had to take it off to run it through the x-ray.

But here you were, in front of Cinderella's Castle at Disney World, trying to convince three grown super soldiers to at least not whine in order to get a picture with Mickey Mouse.

Once finished, Kyle started complaining that he was hungry.

"Alright, alright. Let's go get something to eat," Johnathan gave you the camera and waited until you'd put it in your pocketbook before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, following Simon, Johnny, and Kyle in the direction of whichever restaurant they wanted to eat at.

Out of nowhere, you started laughing, then sighed.

"What?" Johnathan inquired, smiling at you, his beloved wife.

You wrapped an arm around his waist and looked up at him, "Oh Johnathan. What are we going to do with these boys?"

"You tell me. You're the one mothering them."

"What'd you just say? Who was the one who suggested to go to Disney World?" Both of you chuckled.

"It was Kyle actually."

"And somehow all of them, including you, forgot sunscreen, Johnathan."

They looked back up and saw the three musketeers standing by one of the smaller restaurants, waiting for you and Johnathan.

"Quit acting like oldies and get in here," Johnny crinkled his brows in hunger as he rubbed his stomach.

"Did you just call my wife old, MacTavish?" John playfully spit back.

"W-what?" Blushing, Johnny apologized and scratched the back of his head, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Price."

"Oh it's ok, Johnny, I forgive you." You rub his cheek gently.

Once the five of you arrived to the front of the line, suddenly the four men forgot how to order.

"Oh my God, you can't possibly be serious?" Mumbling under your breath, you turn to the restaurant worker, "I'm sorry for my husband our boys, but can we get started with some appetizers."

Our Boys. That's what you called them. Johnny, Kyle, and Simon looked at each other for a moment, then back at Johnathan. Johnathan just smiled and gave them a reassuring nod. They were your boys. Whenever you could, you sent Johnathan with copious amounts of food - most of it not allowed on the base - so that he and your boys could eat good food.

Sometimes you'd visit the base and bring food. You'd do their laundry. You'd clean up after them. If you were there, they wouldn't go to the doctor, they'd go to you for injuries - despite the amount of times you scolded them for it.

Sometimes when you happened to be on the base and sit in on a meeting and Johnathan would raise his voice at one of them, you'd chime in and say, "Excuse me? Why are you yelling at him? He did his best." The rest of the conversation would go as follows:

"Yes, I know, sweetheart. But this is important that they know they can't make mistakes-"

"Ok but there's no need to yell, Johnathan."

Johnathan would pinch his nose and sigh. Kyle and Johnny tried their absolute best not to snicker, but would be met with Johnathan yelling at them some more. "Why are you laughing right now?" Simon would just stand there in awe. His mask luckily covered enough of his face to hide it. He honestly didn't think that Johnathan could've ever met a woman like you - someone who could talk back to him and scold him, as if Johnathan wasn't a Captain of a military test force.

You always went above and beyond for them, whenever and however you could. You all reminded them of home - or what home could've been. Johnathan and you were those very few people who'd seen Simon's face. Around you, he could be Simon. You reminded him of his own mother. And sometimes you'd ask him about his own mother. Not to get information out of him, just to make sure she's taken care of. You were the first to notice a change in him when his mother passed. You had a silent bond with him that he truly appreciated.

---

By the end of the day, the five of you were spent. You all returned back to your hotel room. There were way too many blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the TV.

You stood in the bathroom doorway, brushing your wet hair as you watched the your boys scroll through the TV channels while all laying on the floor of blankets and pillows. Johnathan comes up behind you and hugs your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

"What're you thinking about, Y/N?" He whispered.

You kissed his cheek and placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it gently, then looked back at the scene in front of them.

"Would you want a Mini-141?"

Johnathan turned his head and looked at you in awe - no, shock.

You waved your hand in front of him, "Oh, not now! When we get home."

The both of you chuckled, making the three men turn their heads and look at the both of you.

"What are you talking about?" Johnny dared to ask.

You blushed and started giggling, Johnathan blushed slightly shot back at Johnny, "Shut up, Johnny!"

"What? I just-"

"Johnny, be quiet and pick a movie!" Simon voiced in annoyance, making the Scotsman mumble under his breath.

As they returned to the movie, you and Johnathan went back into the bedroom, picking a movie of your own. You occasionally looked up at your husband as he watched the movie, thinking about all the things that happened today. You wanted a family with him. But it was hard to start one with how often Johnathan had to leave. But you think that today was a glimpse of what having kids would be. And you couldn't wait to get home to begin that chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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