#yes frank sucks

[lupeloto]

shamey meta

frank/monica and ian/mickey parallels and how crazy they make me

One thing that both Frank/Monica and Ian/Mickey had? Deep fucking love for each other. The kind that most people don't find in their lifetimes.

A basis of Ian's character was how he was “similar” to Monica in the sense that they shared the understanding of bipolar disorder and how he tried everything to not end up like her. However, when it came to he and Mickey, I see it as them framing Ian more as the "frank" in the situation in the beginning.

As we all know, Monica kind of trainwrecked Frank's life in a way. While he had full autonomy over himself, he was in college when he met Monica and then everything spiraled down for him from there. They tried to frame it as Ian "making it out" of his relationship with Mickey because it would only bring trouble and chaos and pain. He was “on track" before Mickey got married to Svet and hurt him in a deep way, leading him to flee his life (not saying it is Mickey's fault that Ian spiraled, but it was the first domino knocked down in a whole series of events). They described Mickey as "setting a match" to Ian's life. Which, I believe they would have probably maintained this metaphor throughout the series if Noel hadn't come back (thinking they did something with the whole analogy *yawns*) However, he did and it turned into something a lot more beautiful and impactful in my opinion.

Instead of pushing this idea that although Ian loved mickey, he was trouble and not good for Ian and his new life, and that by leaving Mickey, he escaped his destiny to end up like one of his parents...However in this scenario, it was Frank rather than Monica (unlike his arc regarding his mental health and that desperation and effort he put it to not end up like his mother). But, in the later seasons, they shaped it more into this idea that Ian and Mickey both escaped this assumed "destiny" of ending up as bad-for-each-other as it was all they had ever known. They were willing to work and devote themselves to making each other better, something that Frank and Monica never could do.

Overall, I think that the comparison between the two relationships and framing of Ian as the "Frank" who escaped the "Monica" (Mickey) was an interesting turn for the character as most of his story had been attempting to escape the path of his mother. I think that instead of the sloppy "He didn't turn into his parents because he chose stability over love", Ian got to carry a much richer character arc of "He chose love. He chose the person who makes him feel alive, without falling into hurtful and toxic patterns like his parents. And that takes more work and dedication than simply denying something out of fear it could take a turn for the worst." does that make any sense?

anyways, i lvoe ian gallagher and the entire season he was distanced from frank quite a bit but the fact that the one aspect they shared being this ability to have such a deep and all-consuming love for someone…this magnetic pull in a way is so important to me. he was like frank in that way but still managed to come out the other side. i love him. that’s all.

#i could be totally wrong but these are just some thoughts i've had #does this make any sense #it's kind of a brain-dump #so i hope y'all get what i'm saying #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #gallavich meta #monica gallagher #frank gallagher #shameless meta #yes frank sucks #yes monica sucks #but they made that show so fucking interesting in regards to their relationship with each kid and how little parts of them are shown in each

[txttletale]

the self-justifying and self-mythologizing that this website did about john green is actually ridiculous. tumblr users didn’t drive him off tumblr because of some righteous crusade because of some evil thing he did. they did it because it was funny to be mean to him. anything else people try to claim is post-hoc rationalization so they personally don’t feel bad for finding it funny

#yes his books suck and anne frank kiss was bad but i PROMISE you thats not why people did the cockypasta #they did it because it was funny and mean #the habit of retroactively turning online comedy bullying campaigns into like #a heroic uprising of mass-movement altruism is very silly #and actively harmful to your ability to understand how online social spaces actually work and recognizes this happening in action

[youngpettyqueen]

Margaret could scoop Hawkeye up in her arms with ease and I think Hawkeye IS strong enough to do the same to her but his lift technique would be all wrong and he’d end up throwing his back out

#mash #margaret houlihan #hawkeye pierce #yes this is just that time Frank threw his back out dipping Margaret #what of it #Margaret can fold Hawkeye up in her arms #like an accordion #and Hawkeye CAN lift her he just sucks at it

[queenboimler]

honestly so glad they changed the bill and frank stuff for the show because yes im devastated but im happy about it

#tlou #the last of us #like game franks ending is just DEPRESSING #he and bill were basically broken up and bill finds his dead body hanging!!!!! That fuckin sucked!!! #but show frank and bill GOING TOGETHER PEACEFULLY?????? #after a relatively happy life TOGETHER COMPLETELY???? #yes please

[mrrgullible]

Is it just me or is everybody wayyyy overreacting to the ls dunes situation AND the frank iero tweet???

#like i get it #using ai for the video is shitty #and franks tweet could be seen as anti-semitic #but all in all neither are that big of a deal? frank obviously didnt mean it that way #hes not an anti-semite #im jewish so don't get angry at me lol #i don't even interact with ls dunes that much but this whole thing has been annoying me #yes obviously you can be annoyed about the ai because ai generated shit sucks and is taking away from real artists #but also dont send bloody death threats ya know?

[muirneach]

well i dont see mash as a timeloop because it fundamentally just. is not one. BUT also i think the whole ‘theres 11 seasons and only 3 years of war’ thing is stupid as hell. one season does not necessarily one year. some episodes take place over a few hours, usually they take place over a few days, one episode takes place over a year, sometimes they skip some time in an episode. its never ending and repetitive in the sense that they do the same thing every day but time also does pass. also it’s never ending in the sense that they will never truly leave because it will impact the rest of their lives profoundly (which i think is more interesting to explore anyways). anyways even if every mash episode was one day that would only be 251 days which isnt even a whole year. so that line of reasoning is sooo annoying. people complain about the 11 seasons thing too much. like did you want them to hit s3 and throw up their hands and be like well i guess we wont do that anymore! no its a great show and people wanted more seasons obviously

#so mash IS purgatory but its NOT a time loop. we are all on the same page now yes? #anyways im sure we all have our own ways to fit the 11 seasons into a reasonable timeline #i think an important thing to note is that whenever they give dates; they didnt know how long the show was gonna go on for #so maybe by s3 they were like oh shit well this is gonna be longer than the war but like they still didnt really know #anyways for me personally s1-3 were approx a year (cause hawk says he and trapper were friends for a year and also other reasons) #and frank and charles to me were there for approx the same amount of time so each got half the war #so s6 is the rough midway point #but the rest of the seasons are kind of whenever #now a lot of the time they give a specific date they say 1951. like the whole show they say 51. which is strange. but again they didnt know #and they didnt want to rush it in case they got more seasons #but i disregard that #like that one episode that takes place over a year is soo wrong. it was NOT 1950 in the beginning of that ep lmao #like bj and potter DEFINATELY did not arrive in korea in 1950 #but like the plot is the same you just gotta bump it up a few years #oftentimes you can roughly tell what season an episode is in but they wildly jump around the seasons in one singular season #<- critical levels of homonyms happening there but you know what i mean #anyways. just because the writers sucked at continuity doesnt mean that the war somehow took 11 years #its all about how you squish it in!! #m*a*s*h #is this mean sorry #literally when i first got into mash i drafted a post about this very topic #because even before i knew ANYTHING about mash i had heard this line sooo often before #but its silly! obviously the war still takes three years but they made more seasons fit into that timeframe its FINE. who cares #there is like. three seperate points being made in this post sorry its mostly about the 11 seasons thing but also about other things too #also the war took place over 4 years not 3 (50 51 52 53 is. four years) but people are bad at counting years #so whatever we all say three years because 50-53 seems like it should be three years #so whatever ill say 3 years too but im giving you a disclaimer anyways

[cainsign]

ok i didnt want to be negative on that post i just rbd because it is true but as someone who hasnt had any romantic connections or relationships and is nearing 20 it still feels absolutely depressing if you actually want those relationships and you just aren't connecting with people for whatever reason. like yeah if you dont ever want a relationship or want to wait etc that's fine but it still feels like you're constantly watching people your age and even younger experience something that feels impossible to reach and gets further away the older you get. if im just misreading that post ignore me but like. yeah tbh ive not been in a romantic relationship at 19 and it kinda feels awful. 

#like yes the sentiment is accurate we shouldnt shame people for not being in relationships #but also we can acknowledge that people need relationships (not necessarily romantic) to thrive and feeing like you cant get one #for whatever reason feels like you've been locked out of a part of the fundamental human experience which to be frank does suck

[scaredbisexual]

Hi lovely! As a fellow bisexual id love to see something about reader maybe coming out as bi to Joost or maybe reader runs into her ex gf while with him? Or something totally else! Only if you’re comfortable ofc 🩷🫶🏻

I never claimed to be sane, so here is another request today! This one admittedly took a little longer, I got sucked into the story lol

LOVE ME SOME BISEXUAL Y/N! Hell yeah!

Enjoy!

Cool | Joost Klein x fem!reader

Summary: It was hot, and it was glorious, just the two of them in a country of which language they didn’t speak, people they didn’t know and fucks they didn’t give. 

And in this suburban, secluded town they have specifically chosen to not run into any people they may know, or ones who may know him, they ran into her. 

Word count: 1997 (the clownery)

WARNINGS: swearing (it's a given with me, I'm Polish), degrading and not in a fun way, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of sexuality <- YELL AT ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING, thx <3

Author's note: it is very strictly a female reader in here, again, sorry to disappoint folks. But I have one request for a bromance turned romance in my inbox so stay tuned!

Not proof-read, sorry

‘Oh my God, Y/N? Long time no see!’ a high voice shrieked in the distance. The girl in question startled, looking around to find whoever was calling her name. 

Her and her boyfriend, Joost, were currently on vacation. The Italian breeze was lightly blowing, more often than not tangling her hair and making her huff. The boy next to her always giggled, took the strands out of her mouth and kissed her nose, finding the whole shebang to be insanely cute and ridiculous. 

‘Serves you right for having such long hair’ he would chuckle, elbowing her jokingly in the side. And she would pout and punch his bicep, sticking her tongue out at him. 

‘Har har, fuck you’ she muttered once, making him laugh in a loud, raspy belly laugh. 

And it was amazing, the vacation of their dreams to be frank. They took a week off, packed their suitcase (yes, singular, luggage fares are simply too high to bother) and embarked on a journey to some small, suburban town in the south of Italy. He wore linen shirts and his wife-beaters, she wore floral dresses and thin shorts, both of their bodies glistening with sweat. It was hot, and it was glorious, just the two of them in a country of which language they didn’t speak, people they didn’t know and fucks they didn’t give. 

And in this suburban, secluded town they have specifically chosen to not run into any people they may know, or ones who may know him, they ran into her. 

Y/N recognized her in a second, the pixie cut, the floral shirt, the bisexual disaster of a girl with a big smile plastered on her face. And she looked good, damn her. A thin sheen of sweat making her face glow, and not look like a sweaty monster, her legs looked long and slender in her cutoff denim shorts and her arms were littered with tattoos, even more so than when they were together.

Mhm, yup, that’s the kicker. Here Y/N was, on a wonderful vacation with her hotter-than-hell (famous!) boyfriend and who did she meet? Her ex-girlfriend. Yummy.

Joost cocked his brow and squeezed Y/N’s hand, silently asking if she’s okay. 

‘Oh, Vee, hi!’ Y/N replied to the girl, ignoring her boyfriend’s question. Of course she wasn’t fine, the nerve of him. She took a deep breath and tugged Joost along to the other one, meeting her halfway.

‘Oh my god, it’s been too long! You look… nice!’ the other woman exclaimed, eyeing Y/N from head to toe. A crimson blush was biting Y/N’s cheeks, making her roll her eyes.

‘Yeah, sure, same to you’ she replied. ‘Oh, um, Joost, this is Vee. Vee, meet Joost, my boyfriend’ she introduced the two, waving her hand between them. 

‘Hi’ the boy murmured, not entirely rudely, but off-kilter. She chanced a look at him and saw him scanning the other girl from over the rim of his sunglasses. 

See, Joost didn’t like Vee. She seemed fake from the very first sentence she uttered to the both of them, her smile never quite reaching her eyes and said eyes sharp and calculating, rather than warm like her voice would suggest. And he saw how his girl’s shoulders slumped, how her mouth was just slightly downturned, how she didn’t answer his question before. 

So he stood a little taller with his back straight and chest puffed, not so much that it would look silly, but just slightly.

Meanwhile in Y/N’s head there was nothing but the, seemingly looped, word “shit”. And for a good reason, because Vee was trouble and Joost was sunshine and she hated those two worlds colliding. 

‘Oh, a boyfriend, huh? That’s sweet, Y/N, you finally stopped fooling yourself?’ she asked, feigned kindness lacing her voice. She giggled and shot her a wink, turning to the boy next. ‘Do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar’ she inquired; her eyes squeezed as if she was looking at sun itself.

And in Y/N’s eyes she might as well have because the boy meant so much too him, and he picked up on her nervousness the second Vee appeared. And her heart was beating to the beat of techno music, pumping so much blood through her veins she felt lightheaded. 

But Joost, sweet, kind, lovely Joost, just shot Vee a long look took a step to be in front of Y/N. Nothing too big, not like the teen dramas on Netflix or a dick measuring context, no. Just playing it off as casual while they both knew he was trying to make her feel safer. Bless his soul, he had no idea who Vee was, didn’t even suspect that it could have been Y/N’s ex-girlfriend. How could he, anyway, when she has never made it known to him that she was bisexual. 

And it wasn’t for the lack of trying, she wanted him to know who she was. Ha, she yearned for his acceptance and to be able to share this part of herself with him, but she couldn’t. No, not really.

‘I don’t think we’ve met’ Joost answered nonchalantly. And his voice seemed to do something to Vee, you could almost see the information clicking in place as she raised her brows in disbelief and let out a low chuckle.

‘Shit, you’re the guy from Eurovision, aren’t you? The “Friesenjung” one?’ she exclaimed, smiling broadly at him. ‘Oh I love your music, man! I had no idea you were dating little Y/N over here, she never mentioned it!’ she exclaimed gleefully. And that dig didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, she knew what she wanted to imply, but she couldn’t find the words to disagree, to say that they haven’t talked in years, how could she have mentioned it?!

‘You must not be really good friends, then’ he shrugged, putting his arms over Y/N’s trembling arms and soothing her with his presence. He started to rub his thumb up and down her arm, almost as if saying “I’m here, you’re fine”. And it helped, it really did. 

‘Oh we were very good friends until little miss “my-new-boyfriend-is-famous” didn’t dump me for, seemingly, fame’ Vee rolled her eyes, winking at Joost. ‘She’s like that, you get it, a little sleazy and conniving.’

‘I think that’s enough’ the man interrupted, his face stern and lips pulled into two thin lines. ‘Go and spew your venom somewhere else, we’re not interested.’ 

And so he turned on his heel, dragging Y/N’s dumbfounded body with him, not even looking back at the girl. They took a turn, then another and only after a few minutes of walking in silence did Joost loosen his hold on her shoulders, steering the girl towards a bench. 

It felt as if she was sitting next to the loudspeaker for a little too long, the ringing in her ears persistent, her mouth dry and hands shaking where he held them in his lap. Neither of them said a word, both just leaning against each other and people-watching.

They often did that when one of them was overwhelmed. Back home they could just climb the roof of their house and sit there, hidden behind trees that grew closely together, but not too closely so that they could still look at people walking around. They would play a game where they would guess what someone is thinking about, laughing if it sounded a little too close to this one dialogue from “Twilight” and holding hands. Sometimes they didn’t speak, just existed together in silence disrupted only by honking cars or laughing children.

And here in Italy they didn’t have their own place, but the bench would do. It was a little further away from the trail, between two bushes and under a lovely tree with colorful flowers. So they sat there, their hands clasped together, her forehead resting on his shoulder. And he would sometimes hum a tune, and she would pick it up and so the minutes passed.

Sometime later she stirred, almost like waking up from a bad dream. She opened her eyes and raised her head slowly, her eyes glistening and cheeks red.

‘So, um, that was Vee’ she muttered, laughing hoarsely and looking out into the horizon.

‘Delightful persona’ he answered, squeezing her hand again. Their palms were sweaty but it was okay, he would always hold her hand when she needed it.

‘Tell me about it’ Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. ‘It’s my ex-girlfriend’ she whispered, looking into the opposite direction, too scared of what might happen next.

And Joost just stared at her, his face blank and a million thoughts racing through his head. Okay, it made sense, there was some weird tension between the two women, but he wouldn’t have guessed that they used to be a thing. Hell, Y/N never mentioned to him that she was bisexual, he didn’t really expect it.

‘Oh?’ he hummed, tugging her a little closer. He could feel the tension seeping from her, clogging her pores and presumably giving her a headache. ‘Hey pretty girl, look at me’ he whispered again, reaching out to grab her chin and make her look at him. Her eyes were squeezed shut but she went with the movement. ‘Y/N, honey, breathe please’ he reminded her and she took a big gulp of fresh air.

‘Sorry’ she muttered. She didn’t know if she was more sorry for the situation or for hiding such significant part of herself from him. ‘It’s, uh, complicated’

‘I gathered that, yeah’ he said, leaning down to kiss her knuckles. She sighed deeply and opened her eyes. There he was, smiling down at her, his sunglasses raised to sit on the top of his head, leaving behind red marks on his nose. He was smiling softly at her, his eyes earnest. ‘You don’t have to say anything that you don’t want to say just because that happened. We can go grab some food and pig out on it in bed. Or I can buy you one of those overpriced coffees with enough sugar in it to kill a horse?’ he offered, making her chuckle wetly. 

And God, how was he so perfect? So loving and understanding, no raised voices, no judgement in his voice. She heaved out a long breath and turned to him.

‘I’m bisexual, Joost’ she admitted. She looked like a spooked animal, her eyes scanning his face, legs ready to run if things turned ugly.

‘Cool’ he answered, smiling down at her. ‘Thank you for telling me’ he added after a heartbeat and kissed her sweaty forehead. Y/N raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief.

‘You’re welcome?’ her voice was high, a nervous giggle making its way out of her mouth. ‘That’s it? You don’t think I’m, what, faking it?’

‘Why the hell would I think that?’ he asked, amusement in his voice. 

‘That’s what Vee thought’ she shrugged, looking away yet again. And that just simply wouldn’t do, so he once again reached out for her, but this time put his hand on her cheek and slowly turned her back to him.

‘Well, as we have established, Vee is an idiot’.

And then he kissed her sweetly, pecking her lips and pulling her to his chest. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes with a fruity undertone of a slushie he has spilled on himself earlier that day.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head, her worries melting away with just one kiss. She felt so foolish, of course Joost wouldn’t agree with Vee.

He was her sunshine, he shone just for her and that was final, bisexual or not. So they stood up, fingers laced and cheeks wet, not only from the heat this time, heading towards some restaurant he quickly found on Google. 

A few hours later they laid in bed, legs intertwined, chests pressed closely together with her head in the crook of his neck when he whispered:

‘We can talk about boobs now’.

#joost klein #justice for joost #eurovision #esc 2024 #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joostice #joost klein angst #joost klein fluff #hurt/comfort

[satrs]

OVERLOADED?

SYNOPSIS; 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬.

FEATURING; TOJI FUSHIGURO. SUGURU GETO. SATORU GOJO. YUUTA OKKOTSU.

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! unprotected intercourse. Cockwarming. Nicknames. Grinding. Oral(fem receiving).

WC; 0.7k

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

TOJI FUSHIGURO

You felt so bad for him, all exhausted and energy robbed from his hard work as a sorcerer killer. You as his lover sure could do something, right?

You already had the perfect idea.

“Yer doing so good baby, fuck.” Toji groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt around him, head thrown back into the pillow, eyes squinting at the lewd sounds your neddy cunt cried out, sucking him dry.

He had an iron grip on your hips, jaw clenching with each thrust of your hips. He found no strength in him to flip you around and pound into you, enjoying himself while his low lidded eyes examine your form.

Your back arched as you felt him hit a particular spot, hand reaching for your clit, circling it. “Just wanna make you feel good, Toji", you wholeheartedly admitted, teeth caging your bottom lip.

His eyes shot up to your face at the sound of your voice, licking his lips at the sight of your features twisted in pleasure, tits lewdly bouncing at your movements, your sinful sounds clouding his mind.

Low-lidded eyes glanced to where you connected, hand on your hip sneaking down onto your ass, firmly squeezing it, earning a mewl from you.

„Such a good girl, my good girl. Right? Always lookin’- shiiit, lookin’ out for me, yeah?“

SUGURU GETO

To be frank, he had a really rough day. A lot to do, day seeming to never find an end. It was like he was stuck in time until now.

The only thing he thought of as he kicked out of his shoes sloppily and removed his tie was cuddling with you. Well, not just cuddling.

“Suguru?” you questioned, voice drenched in sleep, as you turned at the feeling of rough hands around your waist. You felt the man grind into the valley of your ass, hushing you.

„It’s all good, princess, go back go sleep. Just let me feel you, yeah?“ You lazily nodded, slowly drifting back to sleep. But as you felt his cock nudging at your entrance, you couldn’t help but softly moan.

Sleep soon drifted away as you were taken over by pleasure, your hips grinding back against him in excitement, only to be halted by his harsh grip.

He slid past your puffy folds, groaning as he fully bottomed out, his tip dangerously close to tickling your womb. You sloppily grind back into his touch, earning a low moan from the man.

He held your hips in place, thick length comfortably laying inside of you. He buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent while covering your neck with kisses, sometimes placing a warning slap against your ass when you moved your hips too much to his liking.

He sighed into your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin while his arm wraps around you, comfortably snuggling to your side, ready to drift into sleep.

„Let's just stay like that, yeah? I’m tired too.“

SATORU GOJO

This routine had become like a ritual - every time he had a rough day at work he would come home, plop right onto you on the sofa, face comfortably resting in your breasts, eyes fluttering closed.

"Rough day, hm?" Satoru hummed against your soft tits, earning a soft chuckle from you as he playfully buried his teeth into them. You took his action as a 'yes', cooing at him while petting his head. He purred, almost like a cat, enjoying your pampering. "My poor baby."

He let out a shaky breath at that, head lifting to stare into your eyes. His body moved on its own, hips stuttering into yours, growing bulge evident as it rested heavily on your heat, only departed by some clothes.

You knew he was really exhausted now, too lazy to take you to the bedroom or strip you out of your clothes. A moan left your lips as you felt his tip nudge your clit through your undergarments, one leg wrapping around his hips to draw him near you.

The low groan he let out didn't fly over your head, only edging you on and it was not long until you quickly turned him, straddling his lap as your movements pick up again.

He made himself comfortable on the couch, hand drawing lazy circles in your hips, daring you to go further, a lazy smirk on his lips as his ocean-blue orbs observed you in excitement.

"Let me do the work, alright? Just relax."

YUUTA OKKOTSU

He didn’t have a rough day because of work itself, no. It was because of you. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but think of you the whole day, growing painfully hard at the thought of you.

So when he stepped into your shared apartment and saw you in your nightgown, he fell into his sinful desires, picking you up and leading the both of you to the bedroom in one quick motion.

You giggled at his hectic antics, body lightly jumping at the contact with the soft mattress, his dark eyes quickly snapping down to where your nightgown rode up over your thigh, exposing your naked cunt. "What's gotten into you, Yuuta?"

He kneeled down, lifting your dress further up, admiring your glistening pussy before placing a sloppy kiss right onto your clit, startling you. "You baby. Thought about this perfect pussy all day. Need to taste you. Can I?"

A moan from your lips and the grip you had in his hair was answer enough for him, big grin plastered on his face before diving into his long longed meal.

He groaned into your heat once your thighs locked around his head, mind clouded in pleasure, growing dizzy.

Maybe calling in sick tomorrow would be a good idea.

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴶᴶᴷ #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jujutsu geto #gojo satoru #toji smut #yuuta smut #gojo smut #geto smut #getou suguru #gojo saturo #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk

[theprettynosferatu]

Before the year is done there's something I want to say. This is not porn so feel free to scroll on, but it might help some people.

YOUR FANTASIES DO NOT REFLECT ON YOUR REAL BELIEFS.

You might have a particularly shameful kink or fantasy that sometimes gives you that slap of guilt in the face when you least expect it. I know I do!

When that happens, run a simple test:

- Did you harm anyone by having that fantasy and engaging with it? No? Awesome!

- Did you share it with someone who is safe, if at all?

- If you played, was it consensual, safe, and adult?

If so... you have my permission to dodge guilt!

Let's be frank. Some degree of drop, sub, dom or otherwise is to be expected. Call it the toll on the road between fantasy and reality. Acknowledge it's there, and pay it no mind. You might feel a bit iffy for a little while, but if you focus on something else it will go away. Think of it as cloudy weather. It kinda sucks but you don't stop your life for it!

Now, about your shameful, shameful fantasies: that which is taboo is attractive. Getting turned on by something you know you shouldn't do/be in real life is... completely normal. In fact, that it turned you on might be a good sign. You found it hot because you KNOW it's wrong. You have a moral compass there, friend. Trust me, some... don't. And that compass is what will keep you from doing harm.

Sometimes you'll feel sort of... exposed. Like people will be able to tell you get down to all that evil freaky stuff by looking at you. To which I tell you... HOW? Telepathy? Is Professor X around? Not only no one will know, you deserve an area of intimacy and privacy. And your head is that space. There is no celestial daddy to spank you for your sinful thoughts.

And if there is... that's kinda hot too.

And EVEN IF SOMEHOW SOMEONE PEERED INTO YOUR SOUL... they'd see... you. You with your kinks and your values and your beauty and your mistakes and your messed up humanity. And that "you" is worthy of love. Yes, with the messed up kinks, too.

We are messy bitches, humans. Our brains are these ongoing chemistry experiments that do weird shit all the time. We sexualize shame, we shame sexuality, we sexualize trauma and morality and fear... even politics and identity!

And that's perfectly fine, as long as you don't harm others. And if you accidentally do, listen, be humble, learn. We all fuck up sometimes. I sure as shit have!

So how about in this new year we, you know, extend some kindness and grace to ourselves? We deserve it. As a treat.

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

congratulations again on the followers. Can we please get the head cannons for Jason grace x daughter of Neptune reader. If your too busy or just don’t feel like it I understand. Love you❤️ and thank you

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of neptune! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of neptune! reader hcs warning: loooooots of language my bad yall, the last few had been too clean for me author's note: YES thank you for reminding me bc i did in fact forget this was something i said i would do, LMAO anyways moving on these were good fun and on the masterlist im gonna count them as a continuation bc they are highly related so yeah, enjoy!!

okay okay WE BACK ON THE DAUGHTER OF NEPTUNE GRIND

sally adopts you instantly

her sweet salt water girl

your birthday is basically branded into the calendar along side percy's

then annabeth's is added

then jason's

then everyone elses, all of which are color coded

sally just be collecting demigod children like pokemon frfr

she doesn't care that your a daughter of neptune or whatever, doesn't even care to listen to it as she drags you into the kitchen and shoves blue cookies into your face

you and percy get matching tattoos (other than the camp jupiter ones)

below your ankles, percy got a little wave and you got a little seashell

you two lied and told everyone it was to keep you guys connected but in reality it was a lost bet to the stoll's

who were sworn to secrecy

christmases are always spent at the jackson-blofis household

at first it was just you and percy, then sally allowed jason and annabeth to come too

that then turned into a household filled with demigods, with two on the couch, four on air mattresses in the living room, and then you and percy shared a room

hazel and frank always took the couch, leo loved the air mattresses and always tried to see if he could send someone flying by jumping on it, piper always the victim as they shared. and annabeth and jason would start on the air mattresses, but always find their way to their significant other's room

it took jason three christmases to finally sneak into your room, while annabeth did it the very first second she could

look, he was scared of authority okay, leave him alone

also, doesn't help that you and percy shared a room

i just know percy was glaring up a storm

jk jk he actually likes jason, as much as a brother can like his little sister's boyfriend

he likes how soft jason is with you, gentle hands pushing your hair behind your ears and setting plates of food before you without being told

he can appreciate that jason is good for his sister, but he also loves to put on a show

"MOM! JASON GRABBED Y/N'S BUTT!!" he shouts out of nowhere, jason instantly turning the color of a traffic light and throwing his hands up like he's under arrest

"PERCY! HE DIDN'T, MOM, I SWEAR!" you're shouting back, shoving at percy with your hands

"I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES, YOU'RE NOT GONNA TRUST YOUR OWN SON, MOM??"

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU LYING PIECE OF GREEK-"

"BOTH OF YOU, KNOCK IT OFF!! look, you broke jason," sally cut in, gesturing to jason, who had still yet to move

percy looked all smug until you shoved his face down into his blue pancakes, which were naturally soaked in syrup

"you suck."

"and you swallow."

"STOP YOU'RE JUST GONNA MAKE JASON WORSE."

poor baby boy

as much as he loves you, refuses to touch you when percy or sally or really anyone is around

he's too proper and scared of pda

he's grown to be okay with holding your hand but even like brushing his hand against your waist and he's apologizing and blushing and pulling back

jason and percy both carry a lot of trauma from their amnesia and the only reason they talked about it with each other was because of you

jason talked to you about it by himself

and then percy talked about it to you by himself

and you were like...why don't they talk to each other about it???

so you locked them in the poseidon cabin and made them talk about it and it was actually super healing

"i just...everytime i forget something, it feels like im gonna forget it all, ya know?" percy murmured, pretending to superrrr interested in a spot on the floor

"if anyone knows, it's me. gods, i worry everyday that i'm gonna wake up and it's all just...going to be gone again. and what if this time, i don't get it back? i dont- i don't get her back. i got lucky, but luck always runs out," jason replied, eyes locked on the lake, which he could see through the window

"i think you'd always remember parts of her. i mean, i did with annabeth and didnt you remember y/n's eyes? i think the gods can only take away so much, i think they left behind residue because they couldn't get rid of all that. all those emotions, all those feelings, all those memories. it's a lot to erase completely," reasoned percy with a shrug before looking up at jason, his lips qurking

"you thinking what im thinking?" he offered and jason pulled his eyes from the lake with a frown.

"statistically speaking, probably not."

"wanna read y/n's diary??"

"what?! no, percy-"

"i've seen some pretty juicy stuff about you in there, grace."

"...just a peek won't hurt, right?"

they did, in fact, not just take a peek

read the whole thing

jason was super smiley coming up to you, proudly pressing a kiss to your cheek, which surprised you as you were aware of his pda issues

"looks who's all happy!! good chat with percy?" you asked with a giggle as he took your hand into his, pressing his lips to the back of your hand, drawing more giggles from you

"yeah, something like that. we just talked about, oh, i dunno, how my eyes remind him of the color of the summer sky when he was 12. oh, and how my skin just looks so nice covered in sweat and-"

"YOU READ MY DIARY, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

"IT WAS PERCY'S IDEA!!" jason snitched instantly as he tugged his hand free and bolted away

"GREAT! I WAS LOOKING FOR A REASON TO KILL YOU BOTH!! GET BACK HERE, YOU ROMAN MOTHERFUCKER!"

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackson #jason grace #jason grace x reader

[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love (P2)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: the three survivors try to find the supplies they left behind. The two lovebirds bond over the reader passing out.

Words: 2,135

Warnings: anemia, cursing, passing out, lots of bickering

Part 1 and Part 3

Masterlist <3

............................................................

She woke up long after Joel had gotten up. 

So, she didn't see the way he held her in their sleep. Or the slight smile on his face as he slumbered.

But Ellie did.

Now, the three were packed up, and ready to continue their journey.

They walked along a gravel road, gravel crunching under their feet being the only sound they could hear in the forest. 

"Have you gone this way a lot? No infected?" Ellie asked.

Joel was in a much calmer mood today, his voice soft, but his body still very much tense, his eyes scanning the area constantly, "Not a lot, no."

"What are you looking for?"

"People."

More silence. 

Joel started to notice Y/N taking smaller, slower steps. Her lungs expanded more than his. It was hard to keep up with his long strides, regardless of her illness. Joel was very long-legged, and the two girls were very much not.

But Joel's head turned to see her slowly fall behind. 

He looked forward once more, his steps naturally slowing until she was next to him again.

"Oh.... thank you, Joel."

He turned, "…You doing alright?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I feel okay."

He rests a hand on her shoulder, "Then don't thank me."

More silence.

The silence could be nice, if you made it so. Y/N certainly enjoyed it. It meant she could focus on her breathing and not the constant bickering of the teen and her partner.

Her smuggling partner.

But, as usual, Ellie broke the silence again.

"Are Bill and Frank nice?"

Y/N nodded her head, Joel answering, "Frank is."

"How'd you get that scar on your head?"

Joel let out a sigh, causing Ellie to smile.

"What? Is it something lame? Like you feel down the stairs or something?"

Y/N looked over Joel, "Ellie…"

"I didn't fall down any stairs."

"Okay, so what then?"

"Someone shot at me and missed."

"See, that's cool. You shoot back?"

"Yeah."

"You get him?"

Another sigh comes from Joel, "No, I missed, too. It happens more often than you think."

"'Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?"

Y/N stepped in again, "Hey…"

Joel looked over to Ellie with a glare, "…in general."

More silence.

Y/N got a smirk on her face, "Be glad that they both missed."

Ellie immediately moved to walk by Y/N instead, interested in her story, "…what? What do you mean?"

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, the other hand kept on his gun holster. 

Y/N leaned in towards Ellie, "…why do YOU think, Ellie? You're a smart girl."

Ellie thought for a while before a huge grin appeared on her face. She pointed back and forth between Y/N and Joel, "You mean… you two… and that…?"

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, we did."

"That's so fucking cool! See, Joel? That's not lame, that's cool as fuck!"

Joel grunted, his voice dropping slightly, "I'm glad me almost fucking killing her is cool to you, kid."

Y/N grabbed Ellie's arm, giving her a small wink.

Ellie noticed the two different guns in Joel's holsters. "With it just being us, I was thinking I should pro-"

"No."

Y/N let out a breath, holding back a laugh. Laughing would slow her down- slow them all down. She was the weak link. She couldn't let things get the best of her. 

More silence.

…

"Cumberland Farms."

The three approached an old convenience store, the building covered in vines and broken cement.

Joel turned around to look at Ellie, "Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed."

Ellie's head tilted, "Stashed? Why do you have stuff stashed here?"

"You ask a lot of goddamn questions."

"Yes, yes I do."

Joel opened the door, poking his head in to check for people.

"…so…. Are you gonna answer me or what?"

Joel sighs again, "We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause-"

"-No way!"

Ellie immediately runs in, approaching a mortal combat arcade machine. "You ever play this one? I had a friend who knew everything about this game."

Joel tugged at Y/N, pulling her to one of the tables, pushing on it to ensure it was strong, "Sit. You need to rest."

She huffed, pulling her self up to sit on the table, her legs swinging as she watched the girl.

"…there's this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones! Oh, man."

The two girls turn their head when Joel kicks at a rack.

Ellie sighs, "You forgot where you put your stuff."

Joel looked up, "No, I'm just zeroing in on it. It's been a couple of years."

"Okay, well… I'm gonna take a look around, see if there's anything good."

"Trust me, it's all been picked over already."

Ellie's feet crunch over the glass on the ground, "Maybe, maybe not."

Joel pushes on one of the aisles against the wall.

Ellie moves further away from the two, "Is there anything bad in here?"

"Just you."

"Getting funnier."

Ellie then goes to the back part of the store, away from Joel and Y/N.

Joel mutters a quiet, "Fuck."

Y/N pushes herself off the table, moving towards him to help.

He looks up, "No. No, you go back. I'm fine."

She sighs, "I don't think you are."

He stands straight, his hands on his hips, "Alright, then, sweet girl, tell me where the fuck we left it?"

"I don't know, Joel. Ju-"

Ellie zones out on their bickering as she starts to get further and further away from them. She pushes on a door, opening it with a loud creak. She kicks at the stuff on the ground, inspecting it with her shoe. Eventually, she finds a trap door. She moves everything off it, opening it slowly.

She hears Joel's voice from the front of the store, "You all right back there?"

She jumps, "Uh, yep!"

She hears the two begin to bicker quietly again, prompting her to continue.

Y/N let out a light sigh, "Listen, Joel. It's been years. The odds that no one has taken our stuff isn't realistic. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

He shakes his head, not even looking at her, "no. That's not an option."

"Not an option? Joel, everything we're doing now is a fucking option! It's not gonna be here!"

"IT HAS TO BE!"

She steps back from him slightly, an involuntary breath leaving her throat. Her breathing picks up, hurting her lungs. 

His eyes soften at her reaction, his voice dropping again, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I… Fuck."

She puts some distance between them, giving them both room to breathe. "I… what…. What's so important about what you left here, Joel?"

He looks up towards the ceiling, his hands moving back to his hips as he slowed his breathing. His voice became a low whisper, "…it's…. It's for you… your medication…"

Her face became one of surprise, "…what?"

"When… when we left stuff here… I left some of your medication because I knew… fuck, I KNEW something like this would happen and you'd need it."

She was speechless. He came here for her. To get her more medication. "…uh… thank you…"

He nodded, "Don't thank me, honey. Don't thank me yet."

But that moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of an infected's scratchy growl.

The two turned their head towards the noise. 

Ellie.

Joel immediately turned to Y/N, "You're gonna stay here."

She grimaced, but listened anyway.

He pulled out his knife, walking toward where he last saw the girl go. "Ellie…?"

She quickly came through the doorway, "Picked over, my ass."

A breath of relief came from both adults.

…

"Holy shit!"

The two turned to the hill Ellie was looking at, a plane crash's remains laid there, scattered over the land.

"You fly in one of those?"

Joel shrugged, "Few time, sure."

"So lucky."

"Didn't feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich."

Y/N let out a laugh, Joel turning to her, "What, sweetheart? You find that funny?"

"Fuck yeah, I do."

He felt a smile grow on his face, "Jesus, you're something else."

Ellie jumped back in, "Dude, you got to go up in the sky."

Joel turned back to the crash, "Yeah, well, so did they."

A silence fell over them before Joel grabbed Y/N's wrist, pulling her with him. And they began the grueling walk again.

…

A little while later, Joel puts a hand out in front of both girls, stopping them, "We'll cut across the woods here."

Ellie tilted her head, "Isn't the road easier?"

"Yeah, it's just- There's stuff up there you shouldn't see."

"Well, now I want to."

"I don't want you to."

Ellie began to walk forward, Joel following, "Serious. Ellie."

"You're too honest, man."

Y/N sighed, starting to walk behind them, "Jesus, you two…"

Then she stopped. 

She was losing her vision, "Oh, fuck."

Joel turned immediately, "Hey. Ellie, stop. Sweetheart?"

Y/N brought a hand up to her head, as if it could stop the black clouding her vision.

Joel watched with a worried look in his eye, "You alright?"

She looked up, "I… I don't know…"

She fell to her knees.

"Oh Fuck!" Joel ran to her quickly, squatting down next to her.

Ellie watched the two from afar, not sure how to help.

"Sweetheart. You gotta lay down. C'mon. Lay down."

Y/N let out a groan, not wanting to move in fear of making things worse.

Ellie began to walk towards them, "what's going on? Is she gonna die?"

Joel's voice turned to stone, "SHE'S NOT GONNA FUCKING DIE!"

Ellie stopped walking, deciding to give them privacy.

Joel let out a sigh, his focus entirely on Y/N, "You gotta lay down, Sweetheart."

She sighed, "….help me… please."

Joel didn't need to be asked twice. 

He immediately shrugged off his jacket, getting his plan in motion.

He moved behind her, pushing her torso backwards towards him. He played his jacket on the ground in front of him, right where her back would meet the ground. 

He pulled her hair to the side, letting her head rest on his leg. 

"Alright, honey. How do you feel?"

"I… can't see… anything…"

He sighed, "that's alright. You need to sleep?"

She shook her head, but stopped seeing as it made things worse, "No… I….I'm…. Fine..." She was slowly losing consciousness.

"Shit. Shh…. Just.... Let it happen…."

He held her face with one hand, the other still resting on the gun on his hip in case of an emergency.

…

Half an hour later, her eyes opened to see Joel hadn't moved since she had passed out. One hand still held her jaw, his thumb brushing her skin lightly, but his other had moved to her hair, lightly playing with it. 

She saw Joel give a relieved look before his hands disappeared from her completely. "Oh, thank god. How you feeling, Sweetheart?"

She let out a groan, "achy."

He smiled, "Well, do we need to stop?"

She shook her head, "No. I can do this."

She sat up slowly, letting her body adjust to the feeling. Joel stood up, moving in front of her. He then held out a hand, offering to help her up.

She took it, of course. His other arm snaked around her waist for stability. When he decided she was stable enough, his moved his hands back, letting her adjust the rest of the way herself. 

She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "…thank you."

He felt a little color come to his cheeks, "Don't thank-"

"Take my fucking gratitude for once, Joel."

He laughed, "Alright. Just this once. You're welcome."

Her head immediately looked around, trying to find Ellie.

She was not too far, her famous shit eating grin on her face. 

Joel knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. "Alright. Get up, Ellie. We go at Y/N's speed, got that?"

Ellie nodded, mumbling under her breath, "Yeah, you do everything her way, don'tcha?"

His head turned, "What the fuck did you just say?"

Her eyes shuffled between the two, "Nothing, sir."

He huffed, beginning to let Y/N take the lead on their walk. 

Ellie caught up with Y/N, "Say… you think you can tell me that story?"

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed, "…what story?"

"The one where you almost shot Joel."

She laughed, "Yeah… yeah, I can do that."

They heard Joel's voice behind them, "Hey. Watch it."

They giggled, continuing their journey with a smile.

..........................................................

part 3

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

[endlessthxxghts]

Mesmerized

Boyfriend!Frankie Morales x afab!reader || W/C: 881

Summary: You’re trying to get Frankie’s opinion on a piece of clothing. He’s a bit distracted with other things.

Content/Warnings: Body-descriptions are neutral: only description reader has is having boobs (whether ya got big tiddies or itty bitty tiddies, Frankie baby is utterly obsessed). The lace clothing you’re wearing is also not even described — only thing stated is “straps.” 18+ MDNI. Body/breast worship. Frankie’s got a mouth on him. Groping. Exhibitionism (kind of? you’re in a dressing room). Kissing. Neck biting. Allusion to further sexual activity.

A/N: Literally wrote this on a whim after a conversation @javierpena-inatacvest and I had. Frankie’s a boob man. That’s all we gotta say about that. (Pics are not used to identify anything about reader)

MASTERLIST || UPDATE BLOG

“Mm, I’m not sure if I like the way it fits,” you say, still checking yourself in the mirror. 

A few moments pass, and it’s as if you’re talking to yourself. You look past you in your reflection and see Frankie staring right at you in a daze. 

Well, okay, not right at you. He’s staring right at your chest. 

You wave your hand in the mirror. “Hello? Earth to Frankie?” You roll your eyes but ultimately giggle at this man’s weird love for your breasts. 

Finally his trance breaks. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Cariño, sorry- yes, baby?” 

A playful scoff leaves your throat. You gesture towards the lacey number adorning your upper half. “Does this look okay?” 

“Okay? Baby, really?” He looks at you in disbelief, arms crossed as he looks up at you from his seat in the dressing room. His voice lowers an octave. “You look good enough to fucking eat, mama, of course you look okay.” 

“Christ,” you breathe, willing your pussy flutter to stop now before you two get banned from this place. 

“Is it comfortable, though?” He asks. “Because that’s what really matters, hermosa.” 

You look back to the mirror, running your fingers through the straps to gauge how easy your fingers slip in. Frankie stands up behind you, his body pushed against the back of you. He mirrors what you were doing with your own fingers, taking the liberty to run his fingers across your chest. He makes his way to cup your left breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching at your, now, erect nipple. You fight to keep your moan in. “Frank,” you nearly whimper. “What are you doing?”

He moves over to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you from pulling from his grasp. He lowers his mouth to your ear, “I’m making sure it fits, baby,” he tells you. 

As his fingers find your nipple, his lips are on your neck, open-mouthed and hot. Your head falls back to rest at the crook of his neck, your eyes fluttering shut but fighting to keep them open to watch him through the mirror. Your hand flies to the back of his head, gripping onto his curls — not knowing whether or not you want to pull him into you or push him away. His grip on your waist tightens, and he sucks a little harder on the sweet spot of your pulse point. Fuck. Yeah okay, you want the former, definitely the former. 

He releases his hold on your waist so both of his hands can cup your chest, and the way he’s fondling you while working on your weakest spots, your composure finally breaks, and a loud, needy moan escapes from your lips. Frankie completely stills as your hand slaps your mouth. 

Your eyes meet in the mirror, and he clears his throat, breaking his hold from you but not leaving your proximity. You’re still speechless, too aroused at his arousal. Finally, he speaks. “I- uh- yeah, maybe it is a bit- a bit too tight, the straps might mark your shoulders if you wear it long enough,” he pauses. Your eyebrow raises. “The next size up would probably be more comfortable, cariño.” 

You stare at him for another beat before you burst out in an uncontrollable laughter, gasping for air as you lean into his body for support.

Frankie can’t deny how warm your laugh always makes him. It’s the sweetest sound to exist, right next to the ones you make for him when he’s balls deep—

You get the picture. 

He can’t help but join in on your laughter a bit, his body shaking with yours. Teasingly, he tickles at your sides, muttering a little what’s so funny? under his breath. 

You turn to face him, your hands cupping his cheeks to pull him into an all-consuming kiss. He literally melts in your grasp, his posture going jelly and leaning into you as his arms find themselves back around your waist. 

“You,” you say as you pull away. “You’re so funny,” you tell him. 

He gives you his signature pout. “Why am I funny?” 

“The way you get so hypnotized by my tits, Morales,” you laugh. 

“Well,” he says. Frankie turns you around to face the mirror once more, eyes dark, his hands going right back to cup each one in his hands. “Can you fuckin’ blame me, baby?” He practically growls, pushing his hips into your ass, his erection pushing into you. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck this thing, you’ll just rip it off me anyway,” you say. “Take me home, baby.” 

“You sure, honey?” He asks, his hands now roaming every part of your front he can reach, skating around the area you need him most. 

“Never been more sure of anything,” you say, turning your head to kiss at his jaw. 

“We know what size you are now, we can just order it online,” he tells you. That makes you pause in confusion. 

“What?” He asks. “I- I just really love the way your tits look in these..” he trails off. 

God, this man. You bring your lips against his. “Insatiable,” you tell him as you lean in. 

“For you, baby? Always,” he says.  

What if I made a part two about what happens when they get home? Just a thought…..let me know if y’all dig this idea…..

A/N - extended: In reality, stores probably wouldn’t allow another person in your changing room unless you’re a person with a disability and need your companion to assist you to change LOL. But let’s just say Frankie slipped in without anyone knowing. 😙

Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @lilynotdilly @getitoutofmymind @its-nebuleuse @axshadows @yorksgirl

Let me know if you’d like to stop being tagged or would like to to be tagged in future stories! Xx

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

#pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #fic #endless thoughts fics #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales smut #francisco morales

[toxicanonymity]

Left in Lincoln - Master List (ongoing)

softdark dads' best friend!Joel x virgin f!Reader

mood board by gracieispunk

series masterlist here, a reblog won't stay updated.

official playlist 🍑 bonus playlist by readers PREMISE: After you were orphaned by the outbreak, Bill and Frank raised you, sheltered in their closed community. Now 21+, you're still inexperienced. They leave to get treatment for Frank and ask Joel to look in on you while they're gone. The town begins to creep you out, but Joel is glad to provide comfort, protection, and education. WARNINGS: I8+ Big, girthy age gap. Joel is very dark and toxic but acts sweet with reader. Angst. Loss of virginity. Manipulation. Slow-burn horror: no gore, no violence toward reader, but this story has given people nightmares. NO USE OF Y/N.

Floorplan

PLEASE STOP PUTTING THIS FIC INTO AI. It's been made into chat bots at least 3x since August and they all sucked. It hurts my writing and gives me a mental block. Do not copy, translate, re-upload, use AI on, or make bots of any of my work.

Part 1 - This Protector (3k) - He lowered his voice and said, "Feelin' this against you, knowin' it's there." His hips lifted gently, and it swelled harder against you. "It's s'posed to feel good. Nothin' to be ashamed of"

Part 2 - The Dirty Ground (5k) - “Ever had an orgasm, darlin'?” He slowed his hips to talk. . . . “Only in my sleep," you said.” Good, that’s your body takin’ care of you. It’s good for you. . .Gonna take this belt off, k?”

Part 3 - The Cold, Cold Night (7k) - He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back then murmured, "Nap really all ya want?" "Just wanna be with you," you answered quietly.  His deep voice became nearly a whisper. "Love hearin' that, baby."

Part 4 - Apple Blossom (7.5k) - “Gonna take time ‘fore you’re ready for this,” he said with a roll of his hips. . . You asked, “You want it too, don’t you?” “Course I do, baby,” he panted. “Gotta feel good for both of us, though. Gotta do it right.”

Part 5 - Black Math (8.6k) - “God, if you only knew . . .” There wasn't even a hint of shame in his voice. “We’re almost there, I promise.” He tucked in his shirt and adjusted himself while he was at it. “God damn,” he exhaled.  “Turns me on, thinkin’ about it.” 

Part 6 - As Ugly as He Seems (8.4k) - You would've given anything for Joel to wake up and ravage you. “s’what I mean, baby,” he murmured sleepily into your hair. "Can't trust myself." He groaned softly as his palm brought you tighter against him.  You began to reach behind you, but he intercepted your hand. . .

Part 7 - Forever for her (10k) - [loss of virginity] You looked at his clothes and didn't say anything, but he replied to your silent question with a smile and hushed voice. "no, I don't have to be so dressed..."

Yes, I still plan for there to be a part 8. I don't have an ETA for anything I'm writing in this fandom, as much as I love you all.

-----

Art, etc.

HOT fan art by @bonezone44

Ch 1 mood board by @neverwheremoonchild

Ch 1-6 mood board by gracieispunk

Collage by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Chapter-specific posters

Hot ominous edit by swagxgarfunkle tiktok

Haunting edit by @iamasaddie

If yours is missing PLEASE let me know I probably tagged improperly & couldn't find.

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[sapphire-writes]

Money Shot

Part 4 of The Campaign

modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Tensions rise between you and Aemond at the arrival of Floris Baratheon.

word count: 6.3k

rating: explicit/18+/MDNI

warnings: kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, slight praise, semi-public, finger sucking, gagging, hair pulling, begging, infidelity, reader serving cunt (listen, our reader is not a girl's girl and you know what we're just rolling with it for this one rip), angst, alcohol consumption, smoking, language

note: oh hey there! it's my monthly series update whatcha know! how's everyone doing? surviving? thriving? slay! thanks for reading lovelies I hope you enjoy it!

dividers & headers by me (i know, we've come so far)

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Floris Baratheon is annoyingly pretty.

Even more so now that she’s this close; seated across from you at brunch. Floris and her sisters went to school with you when you were younger; you’d been in the same grade as her older sister Maris. You were never close. When it became clear her family was supporting Aegon over Rhaenyra, you made it your mission to find out everything worth knowing about them. 

Floris motherfucking Baratheon. 

She bats her lashes at Aemond as he holds his brother’s attention in polite quiet conversation. Easily the prettiest of her sisters so it is wasn’t surprising that Aemond had chosen her as his prize. Though to be frank, you’d never thought of Aemond as shallow. He hardly dated at all. 

Aegon had arrived late the previous night, setting off the alarms of Summerhall as he fell into the swimming pool. A fabulous start to the day. 

Floris had arrived the evening after you and Aemond’s most recent rendezvous. She’d squealed like an excited teenager, throwing her arms around Aemond, her heels lifting off of the ground as she peppered light kisses across his face. Her presence had been a thorn in your side ever since. 

A family outing had been Alicent’s idea. The restaurant was Rhaenyra’s choosing; an intimate little rooftop brunch spot. You’d all gotten there early to avoid the sweltering midday sun. 

You glance over your shoulder at the table behind you where Rhaenyra is seated, flanked by Daemon and Joffrey. Alicent and her father sit across from them, both tight lipped. Daemon is lost in his menu, the corner of his mouth curling into a sneer as he murmurs something to Rhaenyra. The table appears quiet, with no polite conversation. Though Joffrey is seated beside his mother, it feels very much as though you’d been seated at the kid’s table. 

“Weren’t you supposed to bring someone?” Helaena asks, glancing at Aegon out of the corner of her eye as she pours over the menu. “I thought you were seeing that Lannister girl.”

You turn away from the grown-ups' table, reaching for your wine. You declined the complimentary mimosas, as did Aegon. He swirls his glass of scotch in his hand, the ice cube clinking against the sides. Nothing like hard liquor at 11 am. 

“She’s not coming,” Aegon answers.

“Not coming?” 

Aegon merely shrugs, tapping his finger against the glass, “We had a fight.”

Helaena quirks a brow at that, pursing her lips as she sets her menu on the table.

“A fight?”

“Yes. A disagreement.”

“About what?”

Aegon groans, leaning back in his chair as a waitress walks by. His eyes rake over her figure so quickly you almost miss it. Aegon’s been perving for years and he’s mastered his technique. Your stomach sours and you roll your eyes. Jace reaches over to you, placing his hand on top of yours giving it a comforting squeeze. 

“Loyalties. I kissed someone else and she wasn’t happy.” Aegon tells his sister. His playful frown suggests he’s unbothered by her reaction to his infidelity.  

Of all the Targaryens, you think you hate Aegon the most.You glance at Aemond and find him already looking at you.

Well, maybe not the most. 

“How dreadful. You’ll cause a scandal, I’m sure,” Helaena muses. 

“No one’s paying much attention to me. Nothing to worry about,” Aegon says, plucking a piece of bread from the basket in front of him, “Everyone’s more concerned about Maegor With Tits.” He holds the bread against his chest for crude emphasis. 

“Hush,” Helaena snaps, always the quickest of her siblings to defend her half-sister. 

Helaena and Aegon quarrel like lovers. It’s unsettling. 

Aemond is still watching you, even though you’ve looked away. You’re trying to control the small smirk that plays on your lips. You know why he’s staring. 

It wasn’t as though you were trying to get him to look at you, but you had opted for a more revealing dress than you usually would for a family outing. Jace’s eyes had widened considerably as you’d smoothed the small scrap of silk into place that morning.

“You look incredible,” he’d said, hand on your hip, eyes following the fabric that stopped just below the curve of your ass, leaving no amount of leg to the imagination.

You glance at Aemond, meeting his hungry gaze. He’s awfully fun to play with. It’s been so boring the past few days ever since Floris’ arrival. She’d been stuck to Aemond’s side like a pretty little leech the entire time. 

“So, Floris,” you say, placing your wine glass on the table, “We’ve been living in the same house for three days now and I feel like I don’t know anything about you. Tell me about yourself.” It’s a command more than a request.

Aemond keeps his eye focused on you, the heat of his glare burning into your face. Helaena raises a brow as Jace and Aegon begin talking to one another, oblivious. Helaena has always been the most observant. Floris smiles kindly, not sensing the tension that rolls off your shoulders. It’s the first time you’ve attempted to speak to her. 

“Oh ... .well…,” she glances at Aemond though he says nothing, “What would you like to know?”

A smile dances across your lips. This should be fun.

“I can’t remember for the life of me where you studied. Which university did you graduate from again?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, “Was it Harvard or Yale? I always confuse the East Coast ivies.” You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. 

Floris’ eyelashes flutter; a nervous tell. She smiles with a sigh, clearly not used to the spotlight directed at her. 

“Oh well I think you’re thinking of my sister Maris,” she answers, cheeks turning a rosy hue of pink. You knew that, obviously. If Aemond wanted intellectually stimulating conversation, he’d have chosen her as his arm candy. “But I’m planning on going back and getting my degree at some point. I’m really interested in botany—”

“Botany! Ha! That was my minor in university,” Helaena chimes in. Floris’ eyes light up, thankful Helaena has joined the conversation. “That’s rather—”

“Flowers?” you interrupt and Floris’ smile falters ever so slightly as her blue eyes return to you.

Unlucky for her, you’ve never been one to give up easily. You reach for your glass, holding it lazily between your fingers. Smiling tightly and tilting your head to the side, you continue your advances. 

“Yeah,” Floris shakily answers, “I mean…I don’t know. I haven’t really made up my mi—”

“Have you read any good books recently?” you ask, taking a sip of wine. You watch Aemond begin to tap his fingers against the table out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh um, not really,” Floris answers, “I’m not much of a reader.”

You flick an eyebrow up at that, glancing at Aemond. His pale blue eye holds your gaze, nostrils flaring. Interesting. Aegon and Jace have paused their side conversation.

“Oh?”

The table is silent. It’s like watching a cat play with a mouse. Aemond’s knuckles blanche as he curls his fingers in toward his palm. A waitress walks by, absentmindedly refilling the sweating glasses of water that line the table. Aemond says nothing; he doesn’t jump to his girlfriend’s defense.

Doesn’t look away from you. 

Floris wets her lips, smiling politely up at the waitress as she refills her cup. She pauses for a moment, nervously sipping her water. She’s about three mimosas in; you’re sure the alcohol is working in your favor. A layer of nervous sweat covers her brow. 

“I mean, I haven’t really—”

“What about current events?” you continue to steamroll her, “Aemond loves staying up to date he must be driving you crazy with all that. Especially with what's been going on recently in the Riverlands.”

“Oh, well I’m not really sure—”

“Oh you aren’t?” you ask in mock confusion, over dramatically pouting, “Hmph. I assumed you’d be interested in his work. I mean as Aemond’s girlfriend and all—”

“Oh well, that’s actually a great segway,” Floris interrupts, her voice shriller than before, as if she’s trying to regain control of the conversation.

You take another sip from your glass, allowing her interruption. You’re enjoying her distressed state. A smile curves at the edge of your lips and you attempt to hide it behind your glass. 

“We’ve just been having the loveliest time together, haven’t we?” Floris says, pressing her hand against Aemond’s shoulder.

He makes a soft noise of approval and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You catch his gaze again, the conversation fading into white noise. 

Does Floris know she’s been sleeping on the bed he ruined you on? Your cheeks grow hot. Just a few nights ago you’d been tied to the rails of their headboard. Guilt stabs you in the gut but you choose to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Floris Baratheon means nothing to you. She’d do the same to you in a heartbeat. There’s no playing fair in these circles. 

“—you see we decided to get engaged!”

You choke on your wine, sputtering, and coughing. Droplets of wine stain the white tablecloth like little pink raindrops. Jace rubs a comforting hand on your back. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Sloppy girl you got there, Jacey,” Aegon snickers. 

“I’m fine,” you manage in a hoarse voice, “Just went down the wrong way, that’s all.” You can feel droplets of wine running down your chin, onto your neck, and down between your breasts.

Aegon raises his eyebrows, an amused smile on his face as his eyes shamelessly follow the river flowing down your chest. You wipe your chin as you stand from your chair, the legs scraping harshly against the wooden floor.

“I’ll just go freshen up,” you tell everyone. Your throat tightens uncomfortably. 

“D’you want me to come with you?” Jace asks, rising halfway from his chair, his brown eyes wide.

“No, I’m fine,” you insist, pressing your hand against his shoulder until he sits back down, “I’ll be right back.”

You don’t look at Aemond, nor anyone else as you hurry past Rhaenyra’s table and between other patrons towards the restroom. Hurrying down the hallway and slamming the door shut behind you, you take a deep breath gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are wide and bloodshot from your coughing fit, and your chest is shiny and sticky from the wine. 

“Seven fucking hells,” you grumble, grabbing one of the provided towels and wetting it in the sink. Cleaning yourself up, you try to stop your hands from shaking. 

Engaged. 

You shake your head, fixing your hair, trying to rid yourself of the thought.

He’s fucking engaged.

Sleeping with Aemond Targaryen when he has a “girlfriend” is one thing. But fiancee? The thought makes your stomach tighten. Well, it shouldn’t mean anything. You didn’t care then. You shouldn’t care now. You meet your eyes in the mirror, your stomach flipping unpleasantly. You shouldn’t care. Your lower lip trembles, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.

Seven hells.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

What have you been doing? You have a boyfriend. He has a fiancee. You press your hand against your forehead, breathing deeply as your heart thrums against your ribs. A wife practically. Gods if this got out. You don’t even want to think about it. Rhaenyra’s campaign would be jeopardized. Everything you’ve worked for. You’ve been so incredibly reckless. 

This has to end. 

The door opens and you’re torn from your thoughts as Aemond enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Of course, he followed you. You glare at him through the mirror.

“Out.”

“Let me explain—”

“Get out Aemond,” you demand, drying your hands, not turning to face him.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, taking a step forward, “It’s an arrangement that’s all, a publicity stunt—”

“A publicity stunt? You’re getting married,” you hiss, throwing the towel against the counter, meeting his eyes through the mirror once more. It feels hauntingly familiar, looking at him like this; the last time he was buried to the hilt inside of you. “Get. Out.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he insists.

You laugh bitterly, finally turning to face him. He’s standing inches away from you, so close you can smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It makes your head spin. Shit. Stay focused.

“Doesn’t change anything?” you repeat, “She’s going to be your wife.”

“Don’t be such a child,” he snaps, causing you to flinch, “You know how this works. People are paired off together all the time.” He takes a step forward and you back up, your ass nudging against the edge of the sink. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” He steps even closer, his body completely caging you against the counter.

Aemond places his hands on either side of you. He’s not wrong. You know how this world works. Families align with each other all the time through relationships and marriages. It’s as if they’re frozen in time using betrothals for political gain. 

Just look at Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon. Their marriage was anything but a loving one. Her children are proof of that, clearly fathered by someone else. You remembered watching them arrive when you were in grade school; exiting the black limousine and not realizing who they were. Their father was rumored to be the head of the Secret Service at the time, Harwin Strong, though this was never confirmed. 

“It’s not like Jace is going to let you go,” he murmurs, hands inching closer to your waist, “Or have you not thought that far ahead?”

His hands come to rest on your hips and he chuckles softly at the sound this elicits from you.

“You’re in too deep,” he says, nose brushing against your cheek. His minty breath wafts over your face. One hand remains on your waist, the other trailing up the side of your ribs. Goosebumps bloom on your arms as he reaches your face.

“It’s for the election,” you whisper.

“The water’s over your head,” he murmurs, his hand caressing your cheek, “If you think it’ll end there, you’re not as smart as I thought you were. You’re drowning.”

You swallow, lips parting to give him another snide remark, but he doesn’t let you; the hand that cradles the side of your face pulls you forward and presses your lips to his. You push against his firm chest, disconnecting your lips with a wet pop. Your hand reaches toward your face, your fingertips pressing against your tingling lips.

“You’re getting married—”

“And you’re fucking jealous,” he snarls, bringing his face inches away from yours. You suck in a surprised breath, cheeks warming as his lips curl into that familiar smug smirk, “Worried Floris is getting what you’ve been missing?”

Humiliation makes your skin prickle; the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Your fingers fall from your lips.

“Fuck you,” you hiss from between clenched teeth, “I don’t care.”

You try to push by him but his hands plant themselves on your middle, holding you firmly in front of him. His hands slide down your waist, cupping the globes of your ass. A disapproving whine leaves your lips as he squeezes the soft flesh harshly, lifting you onto the counter. Your fists beat against his chest and he grabs your wrists.

“You care,” he insists, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck as you twist an arm from his grip to shove him, “Otherwise you wouldn’t be behaving like a spoiled brat in front of everyone.” His lips press against your throat with every word he speaks. 

One of his large hands moves up your back winding in your hair and tugging your head backwards. Your forearm presses against his shoulder attempting to push him away. Aemond hums appreciatively against your throat, pressing another soft kiss against it. Your breathing hitches as he continues to kiss your neck, warm desire pooling in your belly. You stop pushing, curling your hand into the fabric of his shirt instead, pulling him closer. 

“It’s been three days,” he murmurs, continuing his exploration up your neck with his lips, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin, “Three days without this cock is driving you crazy, huh?”

“Aemond,” you try to snap at him but it’s dangerously close to a moan, “They’ll be waiting for us—” You’re silenced by his fingers thrusting through your parted lips, pressing down against your tongue. 

“Shhh,” he hushes in a condescending tone, “I think that pretty mouth has said enough, don’t you agree?” You watch him with wide eyes as he presses further down your throat until the tips of his fingers reach the rough surface of the back of your tongue causing you to gag. He moves his fingers back.

“C’mon, you can do better than that,” he scolds, tapping your cheek with his other hand. His eyes narrow as he presses his fingers further down your throat once more. Your throat constricts and you claw at his bicep, fighting the urge to gag again. You hollow your cheeks, sucking his three fingers in your mouth. “There she is. That’s much better— there’s a good girl, that’s it.”

He removes his soaked fingers, a line of saliva still connected to your lips. Gasping for breath you feel him part your legs, his hand sneaking under your dress. You can feel his cool, wet fingers against your inner thighs. 

“Aem—”

“What did I say?” His words are clipped and irritated. His fingers graze against your clothed center, pressing lightly against your soaked center. You can feel how much you want him. How right he was about the jealousy that burns in your belly. You’re sure he can feel it too.

A muffled whine leaves your lips as his fingers pull your panties to the side, parting your silky wet folds. You’re embarrassingly wet already. Aemond chuckles darkly, fingers dipping against your entrance and gathering some of your arousal before circling your clit.

“You’re begging to get fucked, you know that?” he asks, his voice husky and strained, “Walking around here looking like this.” The hand in your hair tightens and pinpricks of pleasure sting your scalp. “Needy. Little. Slut.” His fingers pinch your clit on the last word and you cry out.

Aemond slams his lips against yours to silence your cry and you hook a leg around his slim waist, heel digging into his lower back pulling him closer. He kisses you feverishly like he means to devour you. It’s sloppy and his teeth scrape against your lip but you don’t care. It’s been days without him speaking to you, let alone touching you. You’ve felt like you were going crazy.

Not that you were about to admit that to him.

Your breathing is turning to pants as he continues to kiss you, fingers circling your bud with determined precision. Your eyebrows scrunch together as the current of pleasure in your abdomen winds tighter, and your toes begin to curl. You whine against his mouth and he shushes you once more.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls through an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. 

You accept it greedily and your limbs turn to jelly when he licks at the roof of your mouth. One hand clings to his bicep, nails digging into the hardened muscle while the other winds around his neck and tangles in his hair. His hand dips lower, two fingers stretching inside of your warm waiting pussy. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs as you shudder at the stretch, “Fucking c’mon then—” his fingers crook upwards pressing against the spongy section of your walls that has your back arching, and black spots dancing across your vision.

“Gods—” you whine, clenching around his digits as his thumb presses against your clit. His fingers are longer and thicker than your own; you’d indulged yourself several times the past few days but masturbation was nothing compared to the pleasure Aemond is able to give you. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” he asks, steadily beginning to finger you, focusing all his attention on caressing your sweet spot. “Oh yeah. You’re so much happier with my fingers buried inside this tight little cunt, huh?” Your face flushes as he speaks to you. Every stroke of his fingers sends waves of pleasure washing over you. Your jaw slacks, eyes squeezing shut. Every nerve ending in your body is singing as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You want my mouth on this sweet little pussy?” he asks gruffly, his face pressed against yours, “Tell me how badly you want it. C’mon. Tell me.” The squelching sound of his fingers is borderline pornographic in the small space.

“Yes!” you wail.

“Beg me,” his voice is rough, the commanding tone causing your walls to spasm around his lengthy digits. 

“Please,” you whine, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He knows your body so well. Too damn well. Every curl of his fingers incessantly bullies against your sweet spot. You can feel your walls pulsating around his fingers, squeezing him tighter and tighter and tighter. 

“Please what, baby?”

Your teeth are clenched together, and a whimper gets caught in your throat. Your eyes roll back in your skull as he slows his pace stroking just right. Your head tilts back gently tapping against the mirror, mouth hanging open in bliss as you try to find the words. 

“Please—please I need your mouth—”

“Yeah?” he says, an amused, open-mouthed grin slashed across his face, “Where?”

Seven hells he’s relentless. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, your heel presses against his buttock, your back arching off the counter desperately grinding against his hand for more friction. Gods you’re practically fucking yourself on his hand your hips rutting against his palm.

“Please! Please on my pus—” Your sentence dies as Aemond kneels in front of you. “Aemond—oh god,” you moan as he presses his face against you, one hand holding your panties to the side, as his tongue slides over your aching clit.

“Since you begged,” he murmurs, suckling your clit between his lips and sucking; tongue lavishing the sensitive button with even strokes.

His tongue is deliciously warm and firm, tracing little circles around your clit and making your mind go blank, the last few moments forgotten. His fingers stroke the rough patch at the front of your sensitive walls and he presses against it with brutal determination. 

Your thighs shake around his head, fingers tangling in his hair as the pressure in your belly builds, winding tighter and tighter until at last white-hot pleasure bursts through you; your muscles go taut and you cry out, slamming the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle the noise as you release barrels through you. 

He fucks you through it, a low rumble of appreciation bursting through his chest as the wet, sucking sound of his fingers grows louder with your release. The pleasure is almost too much; it ignites you completely. 

A rush of air enters the small space and your head snaps up. Aemond is quick to stand, mouth falling away from you and your release fizzles out. 

Daemon leans against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face as he purses his lips. His eyes follow the length of Aemond’s arm down to where it disappears still beneath your dress. Aemond’s fingers slip out of your pussy, the soaked digits dragging a wet path down against your inner thighs leaving you despairingly empty.

“Carry on,” Daemon murmurs, letting the door close behind him as he exits.

Blood rushes in your ears and the room begins to spin. It’s like Daemon took all the air in the room with him. Black spots appear in your vision. 

“Fuck,” you’re nearly panting, “Oh gods—” Your mind is beginning to spiral, the high of pleasure leaving your limbs. “Shit,” you breathe, fixing your panties, hopping off of the counter, “—fuck.”

Aemond reaches for the sink, and he turns it on calmly, beginning to wash his hands. 

“Relax.”

“Relax?”

He shuts off the faucet, drying his hands as he faces you.

“He’s not going to say—”

“Aemond,” you stop him, holding your hand up, “Just don’t.”

Fixing yourself quickly, Aemond stands in stony silence as you open the door and flee the bathroom. You return to the table, not looking at anyone. Sitting beside Jace you reach for your wine, downing the rest of it, trying to ignore the ache between your legs. 

Aemond rejoins a moment later, reclaiming his seat next to Floris. She holds out the menu, pointing at something trying to show him. It takes him a moment to get back into character. You watch him blink before slinging an arm over the back of her chair and leaning into her, seemingly very interested in what she’s showing him. 

You place your glass on the table, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. Helaena watches you, lilac eyes narrowed. Turning away from her scrutinizing gaze you subtly glance at Rhaenyra’s table.

Daemon meets your eyes, raising his glass to salute you.

Fuck.

You forgo dinner later that day, claiming the sun has gone to your head. Hiding beneath the silk sheets of you and Jace’s bed seems like a much better way to spend the evening. You try to busy yourself on your phone but your thoughts keep going back to Daemon. The smirk he wore, the look in his eyes.

Caught you.

Your stomach turns and suddenly the blue light is making you feel nauseous and you throw your phone across the room. The sun bleeds orange tendrils of light across the floor as it lowers over the horizon, the hours ticking by as you lay in silence. 

The door creaks open when the room is shrouded in darkness. The mattress dips as Jace sits, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“Hey,” he says softly, rubbing slow circles over the covers, “How’re you feeling?”

“Miserable,” you answer truthfully.

“I’m sorry baby,” he murmurs, “Do you want me to stay?”

“No,” you tell him, “I’m sure there’s something planned, you should join them.”

“It’s just a movie,” he tells you, “Joffrey picked it. Some crazy action film.”

“Charming,” you grumble as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I bring you something later?” he asks, and you don’t answer, “Get some rest.”

He gently closes the door as he leaves and the nausea comes back. You don’t deserve him. Jace knows, you’re sure of it. He knows there’s someone else. He’s just too nice to say anything. 

Whether he knows it’s Aemond you’ve been sleeping with is a different story.

It should make you feel worse than it does. 

You sit up, throwing off the covers suddenly very hot. You can’t sit in this room anymore, can’t lie down and sulk. It’s driving you up a wall, making you want to crawl out of your skin. You need fresh air. Rising from the bed, you throw on a pair of shorts and a simple t-shirt along with some flip-flops. 

The hallway is quiet when you enter; everyone must still be in the theater room or have gone to bed. You quickly pad down the stairs, the sound of your flip-flops echoing through the grand entryway as they slap against the marble staircase. Heading through the spacious kitchen you open the sliding glass doors and head out the back towards the pool. 

You see him as soon as you step onto the patio. He’s standing at the far end of the pool, a lit cigarette dangling from his perfect mouth. He glances at you, the cherry red tip pointed in your direction. He’s taken his hair down, the silver waves ripple over his shoulders. 

The pool is filled with lights dancing on the blue surface; little lotus flowers holding candles. A basket of beach towels sits next to the door and you grab one. Aemond watches your movements as you walk along the side of the pool coming closer to him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him crush the cigarette under his shoe.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

“Only during times of stress.”

You nod, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You don’t ask him to follow you, but he does all the same as you continue to walk the edge of the pool until you reach the beginning of the yard. You walk on the grass until you reach the dimly lit cobblestone path you’d seen during the tour of Summerhall house Alicent had given the day you’d arrived. Fairy lights have been strung along the railing that leads down to a small private beach giving the path a feeling of perpetual summer. Aemond’s footsteps echo behind you sounding heavier than your own. 

As you arrive at the end of the steps you remove your shoes. Your feet sink into the sand, cooler now with the blazing summer sun not hanging overhead. 

“You shouldn’t swim at night,” Aemond comments.

“I’m not going to swim,” you tell him, placing your shoes on the last step, “Are you coming?”

Aemond hums, hesitating for a moment as he holds your gaze. He truly looks ethereal with the moonlight casting shadows along the angles of his face. That chiseled jaw, those striking cheekbones. His prominent long nose. He could have gone into modeling if not politics, that you’re sure of. 

You walk side by side further down the beach before you spread the towel and sit on top of it. You pat the spot beside you and he accepts the silent invitation to sit. For a moment neither of you speak, staring out at the waves that gently lap against the shore. The lights of the city are visible from here, just shiny little stars sparkling against the horizon. 

You can feel his gaze shift as he looks at you. What was it he said to you a few days ago?

You can’t fool me.

“I can speak to Daemon,” Aemond says softly, “Make sure he doesn’t…”

“Don’t bother,” you cut him off, “You and I are a ticking time bomb. It could have been anyone walking in on us.”

At least it was Daemon. If he releases it, he’ll spin it to make Aemond look like the sleaze; cheating on poor, doe-eyed Floris Baratheon. You don’t even want to think about the possibility of Otto or Alicent walking in on you. 

It’s always easier to scandalize women. 

If Daemon spoke to Rhaenyra, she’d make him leave your name out of it. Nameless, faceless. Just some girl. Curiosity gnaws at you. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” you ask him suddenly, “You could get on top of this before Daemon goes to the press. He’ll ruin you with this.”

“I’m not worried,” Aemond responds coolly, “I’m not scared of a little scandal.”

You think back to the stories you’d heard about him. The dutiful son with his sprinkle of bad decisions. Aemond cleans up his messes, unlike his elder. 

“I suppose your family is very protective of your reputation,” you agree, tucking your knees against your chest.

“You don’t have that sort of protection,” he says softly.

It’s true. The Targaryen and Hightower names are like royalty compared to everyone else. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you slowly shake your head. 

“No,” you agree, “I don’t.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” he clarifies, “I expect Aegon to win this campaign without the additional nonsense.”

You snort out a laugh. Even now he can’t help but try and push your buttons. It’s inevitable, the two of you. Always trying to one-up one another. 

“Yeah okay. Well, we’ll see about that. Besides, Rhaenyra’s numbers have increased steadily since the debate,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his. The small contact leaves a burning feeling where your skin meets his. 

“Don’t count your eggs before they hatch,” he softly teases.

“I know my chickens.”

Aemond frowns, giving you a quizzical look. “That’s not a saying.”

“Says who?” you ask, arching a brow at him. 

This is easy, this is good. Just banter. Just Aemond versus you. It’s much more simple when you’re on opposite sides of the playing field. 

“Surely someone,” he says leaning back against his hands.

The waves crash loudly against the rocks and seafoam sizzles against the sand. The moonlight reflects off of the top of the surf sending a silver trail down the middle of the water, splitting it neatly in two. 

“Why?” you softly ask, tapping your fingers against your calves.

“Why what?” Aemond asks.

“Why aren’t you going to say anything?”

Aemond stares at you, his gaze burning into the side of your face until you can’t stand it. Turning your head, you meet his heated gaze. 

“You know why.”

Your head tilts to the side, eyes not leaving his. “That’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Aemond insists, “If we’re careful.” Aemond wets his lips, “What do you want?”

Your heart is beating so fast against your ribs it's almost painful. You place your palms against the towel, pushing against it trying to ground yourself. 

“This…” you struggle to find the words, opting for another shake of your head, “This will never work. You and I; we hate each other.”

“Yes,” Aemond agrees, his hand moving on top of yours.

“And you’re engaged,” you continue as his fingers lace through yours. Oh gods. There it is. That ache deep inside of you; a bottomless pit of want that threatens to swallow you whole. 

“I’m engaged,” he agrees, reaching over to stroke your cheek, “And you’re with Jace.”

His thumb strokes your cheekbone, hand cradling your jaw. The action is affectionate and caring. It’s so tender, so endearing you almost burst into tears. 

“I’m with Jace,” it’s barely a whisper, “I’m with—” You don’t get a chance to finish. His mouth is on yours before Jace’s name leaves your lips. There’s only Aemond.

You fall into the familiar rhythm quickly as he climbs on top of you, kissing you all the while. The sounds of the waves are deafening, matching the beating of your heart, of blood rushing in your ears. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You want to lose yourself in the sound, in the feeling of him on top of you, pressing against you. He’s everything. He’s all-consuming. 

It’s too late for anything else. 

You’ve already been devoured. 

The heat of the morning sun wakes you, a light sheen of sweat covering you. The side of your face itches and you bring a hand to it, brushing away some sand. Sand sticks to your legs and arms. Aemond lays beside you on his back, an arm thrown over his eye to block the sun. 

“We fell asleep,” you tell him, squinting at the rising sunlight.

Whirl. Click!

A noise startles you. Must be the birds. Pushing yourself into a seated position, you brush some sand from your arm. Aemond turns onto his side, throwing an arm lazily over your outstretched legs. His hand curls against the meat of your thigh causing you to chuckle.

“Someone’s needy,” you tease, combing some hair from his face. 

He growls his eye remaining shut, but the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile.

Whirl. Click! Whirl.

Craning your neck, you raise your arms above your head, yawning as you stretch. A sliver of flesh is exposed as you do so, and Aemond reaches his hand to grasp your waist, tugging you closer. You definitely shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Jace is probably worried sick. You pat your shorts. Shit. You’d left your phone as well.

“They’ll be looking for us,” you tell him, attempting to escape his grasp.

“Let them look,” he says, voice rough with sleep, as he pulls you close, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips.

Click!

You turn. There’s that noise again. As your ears adjust, you’re less sure that it’s simply the sounds of the birds rustling in their nests. The waves crash against the rocks, and you look over the dunes as the sea breeze rustles through them.

There it is. 

A photographer, laying on his belly in the dunes, camera held at the ready. Whirl. Click! Your heart drops into your stomach. You’re going to be sick, for real this time. 

You should have known.

Pushing away from Aemond, you pull your shirt down, dusting off the remaining sand.

“You’re a real fucking asshole,” you hiss, pulling the towel out from under him. 

Aemond frowns at the sudden change, watching as you shake the towel out before chucking it in his direction. He catches it, leaning back slightly, surprised at the force of your throw.

“What?” Aemond says, face a mask of confusion.

“Shame I wasn’t in some skimpy suit, bet the press would have a field day putting those photos side by side with you and Floris,” you tell him scoffing, “I should’ve fucking known better.”

He calls your name. You don’t turn back, shielding your face as you hear the click of the camera once more attempting to save whatever dignity you have left. You can hear Aemond struggle to sand as you move toward the stairs, slipping on your shoes. His hand wraps around your forearm as you begin to climb them, halting your steps. 

“This was not me,” he insists, “Look, Storm’s End yes, I did that but I had nothing to do with this—”

“I am such a fucking idiot,” you snap, ignoring him.

“I swear it-” You tug your arm away from his grasp, his expression crestfallen.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” you tell him, laughing bitterly, “Like I didn’t know who I was dealing with.”

Aemond’s lips part, but he says nothing. You open your mouth to speak again.

Click! Whirl. Click!

“Fucking hells,” you mumble, turning away and running up the steps back towards the main house. 

Tears stream down your face, hot and wet as you continue to climb. They’ve already got their money shot. You won’t give them one of you crying as well.

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond/reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #Aemond Targaryen modern #modern au #modern aemond #modern hotd

[theemporium]

Full moon Remus being possesive! I just think that if anyone dare to look at you he would just hold you tight and be like “mine 😠”

It’s so basic but I love it!

FULL MOON REMUS IS BECOMING MY FAVOURITE REMUS RN I CANT LIE🫡thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It should have been a nice day out to Hogsmeade with your friends with very little chance of anything going wrong. 

So, of course something had to go wrong. 

It was a warm day, exams were far enough to not cause you enough stress just yet and Sirius had convinced the group that Saturday would be the perfect opportunity for a day out to Hogsmeade before they got sucked into studying and stress. And truthfully, you all needed the break. 

You ate breakfast together, meeting just after ten before you headed out to the nearby town. You went from shop to shop, laughing and joking and enjoying the little sun the Scottish weather seemed to bestow on you. It was truly the perfect day. 

The problem didn’t arise until the sun was beginning to set and you had made your way towards the Three Broomsticks to enjoy a drink or two before you headed back to the castle. Remus had been needier and touchier than usual, but it was nothing you weren’t used to. You knew it was just him being a little on edge with the full moon approaching in the next few days, and truthfully you didn’t mind the extra affection. 

So, it wasn’t odd when he threw an arm over your shoulder when you were talking to Dorcas. And it wasn’t odd when he placed a line of soft kisses along your jaw to gain your attention. But then he was practically pulling you onto his lap and it was enough for you to turn around, a look of concern on your face at the rage in your boyfriend’s eyes. 

You followed his gaze and found him glaring at a classmate you recognised from your herbology class. The boy seemed to look over just at that moment and flashed you a smile, giving you a friendly wave and you returned the gesture. 

That was the last straw for Remus. 

The rest was a blur of fists flying, blood spilling and James, Sirius and Frank having to tear Remus away from the boy before you could even reach him. You had barely said a word other than ‘follow me’ as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the pub, only giving the wizard a glare when he tried to wrap his arms around you. 

And now you were sitting in one of the bathrooms, cleaning up the cuts on his face with as much skill as you could without having to take him to Madam Pomfrey.

“Don’t give me those damn puppy dog eyes,” you grumbled to him, your eyes focusing on the cut by his eyebrows instead of the soft expression your boyfriend was giving you. 

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his hands wrapping around your thighs and tugging you to stand between his legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to bat his hands away. 

“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that because you know I’m angry at you?” you asked in a blunt voice. 

“Both?”

“You are something else, Lupin.” 

He let out a soft groan at the use of his last name, his forehead pressed against your stomach as his arms wound themselves around your legs. “I am sorry, baby, he just…he kept staring at you,” he grumbled, a flicker of anger in his chest as he noted the way the boy had been staring at you all night. “It pissed me off.”

“So you just had to swing at him?” you retorted.

He lifted his head, his chin pressed against your stomach as his darkened gaze met yours. “He needed to know who you belonged to, sweetheart.”

You raised your brows. “So now I belong to you?”

“Yes,” Remus stated simply, his hands running up and down your thighs until they moved up to squeeze your ass. “And I belong to you.” 

“Stop saying stuff that makes me swoon, Lupin,” you grumbled as you raised a hand to push the hair away from his face, watching with some amusement as the boy growled in delight at the feeling. “I’m trying to stay mad at you.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his nose nudging against the hem of your t-shirt as it started to rise. “Let me make you scream my name.”

“You’re such a cocky bastard.”

“And you love what this cocky bastard can do with his—”

“Remus!”

“Don’t worry, baby, there will be plenty of time to scream my name.”

.

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