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floralpascal · 4 months

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The Heart’s Flame, Chapter 1: The New Owner

Summary: When a new owner buys the house next to Fire Station 133, Frankie is tasked to be the welcoming party. However, he didn’t quite expect the new owner to be a gorgeous woman like yourself.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical description)

Word Count: 2.1k+

Rating: PG (series is Mature & Explicit though, so minors do not interact)

Warnings: None, just Frankie with a big crush

A/N: I’m so excited to introduce you all to these two! Ugh I’ve been obsessed with writing this the past week. Please note that I don’t know all that much about firefighting, so expect some inaccuracies there.

In the decade Frankie had spent as a firefighter and wildfire helicopter pilot at Station 133, a kind and quiet elderly couple — Mr. and Mrs. Henry — had lived in the house next to the station. They had loved living next to it and loved the firefighters that worked there. As the only house in the vicinity, they had painted their front door red in solidarity long before Frankie joined the station. It had been a surprise for everyone when the news broke that they were selling the house and moving to Italy for their retirement. A few of the firefighters had helped the couple move their things into the moving vans before bidding them goodbye. Then, they watched for any signs of a new owner for the small house. Weeks went by until last Thursday when an unfamiliar black Jeep showed up and warm yellow light came from the windows of the house.

The Jeep came and went from the house but with the positioning of the house and the entryway, no one was able to get a good look at the new owner.

The firefighters debated for four days over when one of them should go over there to introduce themselves, as it was important for the station to establish a good relationship with the mystery owner as soon as possible. Finally, after a rather heated debate with the firefighters on duty today, Frankie won the role of greeting the newcomer by virtue of being the best baker out of them all. Granted, with his main rivals being Benny, Will, and Santi, it was inevitable.

“Twenty bucks says it’s another retired couple,” Benny bet the guys as Frankie took a pan of cookies out of the oven.

The one upside to working 24 hour shifts was that the station had to have a full kitchen. Half of the room made up the nice but cluttered kitchen while the other half was occupied by a large table. Huge windows lined the wall behind the table, the little house visible to the left of the station.

The guys had all packed into the kitchen the moment Frankie started the cookies. Benny leaned against the kitchen counter to Frankie’s right. Will sat in a seat at the table behind him as he nursed a cup of coffee a few feet away from where Santi sat on the corner of the table with his arms crossed.

While Frankie and Will simply shook their heads at Benny, Santi scoffed. He retorted, “No, man. I say it’s a hot single woman. The house is right next to the fire station, she gets to watch all the fine men and women in uniform from the porch. It’s a good deal.”

“Are you kidding?” Benny asked. He gestured in the direction of the little house. “Look at that place. It screams retirement.”

Santi waved a hand at him dismissively. “It’s not about how the house looks, it’s about the view.”

Benny went to argue, but Frankie cut him off.

“This,” Frankie sighed as he packed the warm cookies into a tub, “is exactly why I’m going and you two aren’t.”

“Oh, come on, Fish,” Benny appealed to him. “You know as well as I do that it’s gonna be some retired folks.”

Frankie really did agree with Benny on this one, but he refused to tell him that. The house was well past its prime and clearly a relic from the 80s, two-toned white and brown. Confusingly, it also had a faded red roof — that Frankie wondered if had once matched the door — and light wood accents for patios in the front and back of the house. In all honesty, it was a little ugly. It was like bad design had met bad taste and poor aging. He didn’t think anyone would really find it appealing, but it definitely didn’t look like a place a stunning bachelorette would want to buy.

Benny pointed at his brother and tried to appeal to him, too. “Will, who do you think is right?”

Will shook his head with disinterest before taking a sip of coffee from his mug. “Nope. I’m not humoring you two.”

Frankie chuckled as Benny complained and urged Will to side with his baby brother.

As Frankie packed up the tub of cookies and its accompanying Welcome to the neighborhood! card from the station, Santi gave him a sly, confident smile. “We’ll see who’s right.”

Frankie made his way out of the station, feeling oddly anxious about the newcomer. Would they be as nice as the last owners were? Would they allow the station to use part of their lawn as extra parking space for the charity cookout they hosted every summer? Would they put up with Santi blasting rock music with the bay doors open? Were the newcomers ready to put up with lights and sirens coming from the station at all hours of the day?

Finally, reaching the little house, Frankie ascended the old rickety stairs that led to the worn deck. When he reached the faded fire engine red front door, he knocked. Shifting the plastic container of freshly-baked cookies to one hand, he quickly adjusted his navy uniform.

He hadn’t been particularly anxious about the new owners until now. He hadn’t really realized how incredible the last owners had been as neighbors. They didn’t just put up with the station — and some of the firefighters’ antics — they adored the station. Mr. and Mrs. Henry always wanted to help out however they could. But now, with them gone, it dawned on Frankie that not everyone would like living next to a station or want to participate in what they did.

Shuffling from behind the door pulled Frankie from his thoughts. The door swung open and—

Oh. Oh, this was not a retiree.

Frankie had rejected Santi’s prediction so swiftly and thoughtlessly that he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. You were gorgeous. You were clad in shorts and a baggy black Queen tank top, peering at him questioningly.

“Hi,” you greeted cautiously. “Can I… help you?”

It was like Frankie’s world had been turned upside down.

He cleared his throat, trying desperately to shake himself from his stupor. “Um, I’m Frankie. Frankie Morales. From the fire station.”

You cracked a small smile as you looked down at his uniform. “I see that.”

“We, um, wanted to welcome the new owner to the neighborhood,” he explained, raising the tub to make his point. “That is, if you are the new owner.”

A full smile broke out across your face, brighter than any fire he had seen. “I am.”

He reciprocated your smile as you told him your name. When he offered the tub with the attached greeting card to you, you graciously accepted it.

Eyeing the card, you said, “This is so sweet! I have to admit, I didn’t know if I would actually get to meet any of you.”

“Are you kidding? We were all dying to meet our new neighbor. I was the lucky guy who won the job.”

It eased Frankie’s nerves when he saw you suppress a bashful smile at that — a crack in the easy confidence that seemed to roll off of you.

“I didn’t know you all would care so much,” you said, almost to yourself.

Oh, Frankie had been interested before. Now he cared. And he imagined some of the single guys and girls at the station might, too.

“Of course we do,” Frankie insisted. “We want you to feel good about the neighborhood. If you ever need anything — anything at all — you can always come to the station.”

“If my house ever catches fire, I expect an incredible response time from you all,” you teased.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a theatrical nod.

Laughing, you beckoned him with your free hand. “Come on in, Frankie. I’m afraid it’s kind of a mess in here right now.”

Still trying to ignore the fast thrum of his heartbeat, he crossed the threshold and followed you into the house. The door led straight into the living room — or what had once been a living room. The carpet had very obviously been ripped out, pieces of flooring missing at one edge of the room. Wallpaper had been torn off of all the walls, evidenced by the one wall that still had half of its gaudy wallpaper — yellow diamonds on a white background. Paint buckets sat in a huddle by the corner. Other painting and remodeling supplies littered the edges of the room, making the place look less like a house and more like a construction site.

As you took the tub of cookies to what seemed to be the kitchen, you called, “This place is in need of a serious overhaul. It’ll take a couple months to even get this place to where I can actually move in.”

Frankie eyed a nail gun which sat next to a table saw. “Are you… are you doing the renovations all by yourself?”

You appeared in the walkway again, opting to lean on the doorframe with your arms crossed and an easy smile on your face. “What? Don’t think a girl can do it?”

Frankie’s eyes went wide. “No, no! Just impressed, actually. This looks like a lot for just one person.”

“I grew up helping out on different house renovation projects,” you explained.

“Is that why you bought this house?” Frankie asked. But even as he asked, he already knew that it was. It wasn’t the reason that Santi predicted a pretty woman like you would buy the house. The answer was even simpler than that. “You wanted a fixer-upper?”

You nodded a little, a small smile pulling at your lips. “It’s more fun to work for it.”

Frankie thought that he may just die then and there. How the hell could he have gotten so lucky for the most perfect woman on earth to move in right next to the station?

Trying desperately to sound like a caring neighbor and not a guy with a quickly-forming crush, he made an offer he would forever be thankful he made. “Well, if you ever need any help, just let me know. I’m pretty handy myself. Just tell me what to do.”

You nodded, a sweet smile on your face. “I’ll keep that in mind, Frankie. You know, when Mr. Henry said you firefighters were a sweet bunch, I didn’t quite picture any as sweet as you.”

Your words were like gasoline on the burning flames of his quickly intensifying crush. He fought to find his words once again before settling on, “Mr. Henry told you about us?”

You nodded, pushing off the wall to move closer to him. Frankie fought to keep his eyes on your face and not your gorgeous form. You gestured in the direction of the station. “He told me all about you guys. He wanted to make sure that the new owner understood what living next to you guys would entail. Obviously, I was okay with that. Before he let me buy the house, though, he made me promise to continue helping you guys with your cookouts. Apparently, it’s a big deal and I need to provide parking and some kind of side dish.”

Frankie laughed, looking out of the living room window that faced the station for a moment. “The Henry’s were always good to us. It’s good to know they were looking out for us, too. And, uh, the side dish is optional. You’re always invited to the cookouts as a guest. The Henry’s just always wanted to be involved.”

You tilted your chin up at him. “Then maybe I want to be involved, too.”

Frankie tried to tamp down how badly he wanted that — to have you there at the cookouts. To talk you, get to know you more, ask you to dance with him. Instead, he said, “We would all really appreciate that.”

You chuckled. “Then count me in. I’ll be there. As long as all of the other firefighters are as nice as you are.”

“Most of them,” Frankie chuckled, a hint of nerves in his voice.

Then, it got quiet for a moment, awkwardness pressing in. In a desperate attempt to get rid of it, Frankie blurted, “Would you like to come see the station? I’m sure everyone there would love to meet you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Really, it wouldn’t be a bother.”

You thought for a moment before shrugging. “Oh, what the hell. Let’s do it.”

Frankie tried not to beam. He had a little more time to be with you, to get to know you. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could even convince you to stay for dinner at the station.

As you led him out of your house and out into the sunkissed day, he couldn’t help but hope that this was just the beginning of something incredible.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales fanfiction

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payasita · 7 months

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Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D

thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.

like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)

diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.

and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?

so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.

the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.

so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me

it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.

he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.

he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here

he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.

"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.

anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription

all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.

the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.

so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT

anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.

and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.

#personal #anyway thanks for the kind words anon #i am going to go lie down #ADHD #long post

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bsof-maarav · 9 days

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Editor’s Note: Sanne DeWitt is a microbiologist, geneticist, researcher, and author of a memoir: “I Was Born In An Old Age Home”. She has lived in Berkeley, California since 1957, where she moved for advanced studies in microbiology and genetics, and worked there until her retirement. The views expressed here are those of the author. View more opinion on CNN.CNN —

In 1957, I moved to Berkeley, California: a bastion of American liberalism that squarely aligns with my progressive values, and a hub of American scholarship that nurtured my academic quest and professional growth. I came here for advanced studies in microbiology and genetics. Since then, I have lived, worked as a scientist and retired in this community.

Over the 65 years that I have called this beautiful area home, I have occasionally encountered antisemitism, but these one-off incidents never succeeded in destroying my spirit. When I was four years old, Nazis burst into my bedroom and sent me and my family to Dachau, the first Nazi concentration camp. We were soon released and I was smuggled out of Germany by a Christian woman. After this harrowing experience, not much in the Bay Area could scare me.

But since the October 7 Hamas attack on Israel, the hatred towards Jews that I have seen in Berkeley terrifies me more than anything I have experienced while living here. I am still reeling from being called a liar at a Berkeley City Council meeting, where I asked for a proclamation to mark Holocaust Remembrance Day and spoke about October 7. The Jews at that meeting were circled and called “Zionist pigs” by menacing protesters.

We are approaching the holiday of Passover, which commemorates the freedom of the Israelites from Egyptian slavery and our formation as a free Jewish people in our own land. But this Passover is like no other in recent history, with scores of hostages still held in Gaza and Jews worldwide fearful for our future — including Jews in the US. We are facing the worst global antisemitism since the Holocaust and while it is not state-sanctioned as Nazism was, it is a threat going unchecked in California’s East Bay.

It is incredibly painful to see my neighbors vilify Jews, tear down posters of Jewish hostages in Gaza and not believe Jewish rape victims. In this hotbed, hatred and hostility have become normalized. Families have moved their children out of public schools. Jewish businesses have been vandalized and boycotted. And lies about Jews and Israel have gone unchecked and unchallenged in our public forums. Our local Jewish community is both horrified and petrified.

This onslaught of Jewish hatred cannot become the new normal. This epidemic must be treated as seriously as all other hatreds that our society is confronting, such as racism and homophobia. We need more education about Judaism and how the long, sordid history of antisemitism ties into other forms of hatred in our public schools.

We need colleges and universities to unequivocally denounce hate speech and actions directed at Jews. We need public officials to urge mutual respect, understanding and civil discourse during city council and town hall meetings.

I have seen where unchecked antisemitism can lead, when people will do nothing — or worse, join the mainstream, such as our German neighbors during Nazism. This Passover, I resolve with whatever time I have left in this world to fight for the safety of the Jewish people, in Berkeley and around the globe.

During Passover, we are commanded to tell the story of the exodus out of Egypt to our children. We believe in the lasting power of sharing this history with younger generations and reflecting on this hopeful new beginning. There is also lasting power in sharing my history as a Jewish refugee — and I invite my Berkeley neighbors to hear my story. Without understanding and acceptance, we are enslaved by our biases.

The hatred, violence and bigotry against the Jewish community cannot continue — for our shared future, we must confront it and root it out.

#jumblr #october 7 #israel #antisemitism #frumblr #terrorism #usa diaspora #Jewish women #Shoah survivor #Pesach #Passover #Sanne DeWitt

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mrsevans90 · 2 months

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 16

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: Y'all, this one is just SMUT. Seriously a little fluff, but mostly smut. Oral (M&F receiving), fingering, squirting, P in V intercourse, shower sex, innuendos, language, playing around in public, rough sex, Captain kink (🥵)

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 15

Our plane is finally descending to the tropical Ocho Rios, Jamaica. I found an adult only all-inclusive five-star resort that was offering slight discounts for customers who booked trips within the month so they could fill any unreserved rooms. I look over at Emma who is captivated by the book she brought and smile. She was so excited that she had gotten the doctor to remove the hard cast a week earlier than planned and only had to use a removable brace for the next month. I felt she wasn’t wearing it enough, but I wasn’t about to bring down her excitement. I just tried to subtly convince her to wear it for short amounts of time. She was good for me today and wore it the entire plane ride but I was sure she was going to fight me on it while on vacation. I want this whole trip and proposal to be perfect for her, so I splurged a little but she doesn’t know it yet. We’ll be spending a week in paradise with endless drinks and food being served to us. I told Emma where we were going but didn’t tell her anything about the resort so that she would hopefully be surprised. The best part is, we wouldn’t have to leave the resort if we didn’t want too. It had several bars and restaurants onsite so there was never any concern about us getting back to our rooms safely. Everything we would need or want was in walking distance enclosed within the resort. From a safety aspect, that was a huge selling point to me as well.

When we arrived at the resort, we were immediately served champagne and then escorted to lunch at the beach restaurant next to the ocean while they took our bags to our room.

“Austin, oh my god!” Emma squealed as soon as the server walked back to place our orders.

“Did I do good, Sugar?” I smirk knowing just by her wide-eyed expression and her bouncing in her seat that she was happy.

“I’ve never been anywhere like this! Look at the water, baby! It’s so clear and blue! You did better than good, you did absolutely amazing! How did you find this place?”

“I just started searching ‘tropical beach vacations’ online and I could picture you out here in a bikini so I booked it.” I joke.

“Well, I’ll have to reward you for your efforts.” She says sultrily before our waiter returned with the food that was absolutely decadent. I was starving after traveling all day and their food didn’t disappoint.

We were shown to our room after lunch, and I was pleased that it was everything I had expected it to be. The large king bed covered in fluffy pristine linens adorned with local flowers from their garden sprinkled on top, a rain fall shower that could easily fit both of us, a massive tub with a view of the ocean, mini fridge stocked with snacks and alcohol, and a balcony that overlooked the side garden with the ocean off in the distance. To be honest, this was my first fancy vacation as well. I grew up going to local beaches and mountains for camping with friends and family. I spent plenty of time in airports and military planes being shipped off to the less desirable destinations of the world to fight for my country. This was the first trip that I had booked to just relax and be with the woman I love and I’m glad Walt suggested it. Before I could even suggest anything, Emma was pulling swimsuits from our bag and itching to get to the sand. I’d do anything she wanted so I followed her until she found some beach loungers that she was happy with and sat down. I watched her pull her swimsuit coverup off her body and audibly groaned. Emma had brought a tiny hot pink string bikini that clung to her curves in all of the right places. The bottoms left my favorite part of her ass cheeks on display, and I could feel myself growing in my trunks as she bent over to stow her coverup in the bag she brought. Emma’s hair was up in a high ponytail with she had her sunglasses perched on her nose and I swear I almost burst in my pants when she crawled up the length of the sun lounger to get settled.

“Fuck, darlin’. Trying to kill me on the first day of vacation?” I ask and she giggles. “I was told to get some bikinis so I tried to find ones that my Bear would like.”

“Mission accomplished” I say as I motion toward the tent in my trunks before adjusting myself as discreetly as possible.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you later, baby.”

I physically bit my lip as she started rubbing sunscreen on her body before I took the bottle from her and took over. I needed to sit up to hide my erection anyway, so why not get my hands on her in every way I can.

I rubbed the lotion all over her body, appreciating the uniqueness of her body. I swear I loved every freckle, mole, cellulite, and scar on her body. Even her imperfections were perfect. I watched the sunlight glimmer on the metal of her little belly ring and stifled a groan. She is the epitome of divine. I had her roll over and quickly untied her top when she was on her tummy.

“Austin…”

“It’s just so I can get your back, Sugar. Trust me, I won’t let anyone else see what’s for my eyes only.” I started applying the lotion all over her and when I got to her ass, I really made sure it was rubbed in. She giggled and swatted me away when she felt I spent too much time and attention there, but damn she was my own personal paradise.

“Tie me up.” She said and fought the automatic response that popped into my brain about bondage and I retied her top for her. The thought of her tied up to the bed posts and completely open to me was not going to help my erection become less noticeable.

“Your turn.”

“Wanting to rub all over your man?” I ask.

“Yes, but I also want to protect you from skin cancer.”

“Hate to break it to ya, Sugar, but the military wasn’t actually handing out sunscreen in the desert. I’m probably already fucked.”

“Well, I’ll be scheduling you a dermatologist visit when we get back. Now sit.” I arch my eyebrow at her. Bossy little thing. Why does that turn me on?

Emma covers me in sunscreen and I have to admit that it felt nice having her rubbing it all over me so I wasn’t going to complain. In fact, I’d probably be taking better care of my skin this trip then I have my entire life if this is how it goes.

We laid back and talked for a while about the amenities offered at the resort and what all she might want to do while we are here. I told her that I had planned dinner for tomorrow for us, but the rest of the trip could go however we wanted. We could be lazy and not make reservations for anything or we could go on excursions and explore. We decided to swim for a little bit, which ended up with Emma wrapped around me like a koala in the ocean because she wasn’t tall enough to reach where I was standing. I had my hands firmly on each ass cheek and would gladly hold her in the water as long as she wanted. I certainly didn’t mind as her breasts pushed up against me.

“Lemme’ see those perfect tits.” I whisper against her ear and she feigns shock.

“Austin! There are people out here.”

“I won’t let anyone see. I just need a peek. I’m dying here.” I say as I push my erection against her core that’s against me.

“Fine, but just a quick one.”

She leans back and quickly pulls the fabric of her top down to expose her tits to me, now shiny from the water and I thrust against her again.

“You’re fucking perfect.” I tell her as I lean forward and kiss her passionately. I don’t give a shit who sees at this point. The water’s so clear though, if I fucked her out here in the daytime it would be obvious.

“Mmmm, baby.” She kisses me back and I know I’m affecting her too.

“How much longer til I can get you in our room?” I ask.

“Now?” She bites her lip and I have to take a deep breath.

“If I get out of the water right now with this massive hard on, everyone out here will see it. I’m gonna need a minute to calm down.” I tell her. I walk her towards shallower water so I can set her down and what does this woman do? She grabs my dick and rubs it.

“Don’t take too long. Think about Nana having sex with PawPaw or something.” She says and the look on my face must be purely hilarious. Emma starts laughing so hard, if she couldn’t stand up I’d worry she would drown.

“Don’t put images like that in my head, woman! For fuck’s sake! That’s nasty.” Emma is still cackling so hard she’s drawing attention from other vacationers.

“Well, that should help you ease your little problem.” She mutters between giggles.

“Ain’t nothing little about it, Sugar. You know that.”

“I certainly do.”

After a few minutes of thinking about different military protocol, I’m able to get out of the water with just a semi. Emma is sporting a shit eating grin from her seat on the lounging chairs and I can’t help but shake my head at her. I towel off and grab my shoes and shirt, opting to carry them.

“Ready?” She asks sweetly while standing up and grabbing her bag and towel.

“More than you are.” I swat her ass before grabbing her hand and we head back to our room.

As soon as I get the door closed, I’ve got Emma pressed up against it. Our belongings are dropped on the floor and I pull her coverup and throw it across the room. I pick her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to the shower. Through our rushed and messy kisses, I’m pulling all of the strings on her swimsuit and ripping it away from my prized possessions. Emma screeches when I flip the water on and cold water starts pouring from the rain shower head in the ceiling directly over us. I watch her nipples pebble under the stream of chilly water and suck one in my mouth. Emma moans and begins to frantically suck at my neck but even though I’m now painfully hard, I plan to make her work for it a little more.

I set Emma down on her feet before pushing her to her knees as I untie my trunks and drop them to the shower floor.

“Suck.” I command using my Captain voice and Emma immediately shoves my cock in her mouth, her small hand pumping what’s left.

She begins to suck me and cups my balls lightly with the hand of her previously injured arm. Emma whines and attempts to rub her thighs together to ease the friction.

“You teased me, Sugar. I’m going to come down your throat and then I’ll fuck that sweet peach so good that you’re begging me to stop. Understand?” I speak authoritatively and Emma attempts to nod around my length.

I make use of Emma’s now sodden ponytail to pull her on and off my cock as she sucks me off.

“Fucking shit, babygirl, you’ve got the most perfect mouth in the world. That’s right, gag on me.” I tell her and she forces herself down further than I expected and gags and that’s all it takes for me meet my climax.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming!” I tell her and seconds later she is swallowing my load like a champ. I pull out of her mouth so she can catch her breath. I’m leaning back against the tile trying to recover from the best blowjob I’ve ever had before I spread a little bit of my cum that’s left on the head across her lips like it’s lipstick. Emma licks my remnants from her lips and then bites her bottom lip while looking up at me with those perfect blue eyes.

Emma scrapes her nails gently across my oversensitive skin as she makes her way back up to standing.

“Sugar, that was incredible.” I tell her before kissing her sweetly. “Was I too rough?” I start thinking maybe that was too much for her and I took it too far.

“No, that was hot as hell.” She says with a smile and I kiss her again. “I’ll be ready to do that again this week.”

“Now, I owe you at least 3 orgasms before dinner.” I whisper as I pull her body against mine.

“Bed. I want you in that gorgeous big bed.” She murmurs against my lips. We quickly wash the sunscreen off of us, before toweling off just enough to not be dripping across the tiled floors. I grab her up in a fireman carry and throw her across the bed on top of the flowers.

“You’re going to cum once on my mouth, another time on my fingers, and then the third time on my cock. That sound like a plan, Darlin’?” I ask as I rip the towel off over her and start kissing down her body, spending a few moments on each of her breasts before making my way to her glistening folds.

Emma whimpers as I spread her legs and kiss all around her pearl.

“Baby, don’t tease me.” She begs.

Without hesitation, I dive right on in to my favorite dessert. I’m sucking on her clit and licking slowly between her folds which immediately has her squirming. I wrap my arms around her hips and hold her in place as she begins to grind on my beard. Fuck, I love the way she tastes and sounds. Her little mewls sneak out as her hands attempt to find purchase on my head and the bed linens. I look up at her and take in the perfect sight in front of me. Her breasts are heaving up and down as her breath races and when I can tell she is getting close, I focus even more on her little button.

“Bear! Ah fuck! I’m cumming!” She shouts louder than she probably intended as her body arches off the bed and I work her through her orgasm. When her body is relaxed, I crawl up the bed and pull her on top of me, my chest to her back. I wrap my arms around her breasts and start tickling and kissing her neck with my beard.

“Sugar, we’re just getting started.” I grunt against her ear as I place kisses all over her neck while pulling her taut nipples in my hands.

“I dream about these titties when you aren’t with me, Darlin. So perfect. Fit just right in my big hands.” I massage and knead at her breasts until I’ve decided that she’s had enough recovery time and my hands find their way to her legs. I pull them apart and can’t help but press my hard cock against her back as I see her open up to me, completely pliant for whatever I choose.

“You feel how hard you got me, Sugar? That’s all for you, babygirl.” My hands start to spread her folds and after pressing against her already sensitive clit, I slide my middle finger into her core.

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” Emma moans and reaches behind her to wrap an arm around my neck. My other hand is alternating between squeezing on her perfect tits and pressing against her clit to heighten her pleasure.

“More Sy. I need you.” Emma whines and I quickly slide a second finger in and start pumping them in and out. Spurred on by the sensation, Emma begins riding my fingers and gently thrusting against my hand. I spit on my other hand and start pinching on her clit again and without warning Emma arches into a blinding release. I’m thrilled as I keep pumping my fingers, that my girl is soaking my hand and arm, her juices squirting out of her with each wave of bliss that crashes over her.

“Fuck yes, Sugar. Look at you getting all messy for me. Perfect little peach sucking my fingers in and coating them in your sweet peach juice.” I grunt as Emma once again becomes pliant jello in my arms. I slide my fingers out and stick them into her mouth which causes her eyes to fly open as she tastes her own arousal on my hands, sucking instinctively.

“Isn’t that the sweetest peach you’ve ever tasted? And it’s all mine.” I say as she watches me remove my fingers from her mouth, slide them through her pussy lips again before sliding them back into my own mouth.

“Fuck, Austin. You’re so naughty.” She says almost with a desperate laugh.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Mmhmm. So fucking sexy, but I need your cock.” She says as she wiggles against my obvious erection.

“What you need me to do with my cock, Sugar? Tell me what you need.” I smirk, knowing she has a hard time finding the words when she’s so fucked out.

“I need you to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk to dinner tonight, baby. Ruin my pussy.” I instantaneously thrust against her ass cheeks just hearing those words out of her mouth. Well, fuck me sideways. Looks like she did have the words after all.

“You want it rough, Darlin?”

“Yes, Captain Syverson.” She says and bites her lip and within seconds I’ve got her flipped on all fours in front of me with that glorious ass and weeping pussy front and center.

“You need to tell me if you want me to stop or if I’m hurting you, understand?” I command.

She nods and wiggles her ass in front of me. I slap her right ass cheek hard and she gasps.

“Words.”

“Yes. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

“Yes, what? Is that how you address your Captain?”

“Yes Sir, Captain Syverson.” She corrects and I’m so hard that pre-cum is dripping down my shaft. Not for long.

I rub my cock through her folds and collect her arousal all over me. I spread her ass cheeks and just watch my cock in one of my favorite places making a mental picture of it before I slide all the way in.

Emma’s moans ricochet around the room and mine are just as lewd.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” I grunt as I force myself to stay perfectly still and allow her a moment to adjust.

“Ah! I need you to move.” She whines while wiggling a bit and I pull out before slamming back into her core.

“Fuck, Captain. Your cock is so big. It’s all up in my tummy.” Her speech somewhat broken as I slam into her repeatedly.

“Yeah? You like that your superior has a big fucking cock all the way up in your guts? Railing you so hard that my ball sac is hitting that sweet little button?” I rumble against her.

“Mmm you feel so good!” She grunts as I’m slamming her so hard, I don’t know how she isn’t breaking. I rub on her ass cheeks and likely bruise her hips with my fingertips as my pace puts me so close to releasing.

“I need you to cum. Right now.” I command and slide a hand down to pinch her clit as I continue pumping into her hard and groan as her orgasm overtakes her and she begins clenching all around me. Her arms no longer able to hold her body up as she’s overcome with her release, she crumples to her face on the bed and I groan as I allow myself to let go as well, painting her walls with my spend. My orgasm hits me so hard that I can’t help but drape across Emma’s petite back as I try and figure out which way is up again. I slowly slide out of her before flopping to my back and pulling Emma’s limp body on top of mine. We are silent, the only sounds in the room are of the hum from the air conditioner working overtime in the Jamaican humidity and our ragged breath from exertion.

“Mission accomplished.” Emma whispers against my chest, quoting my own words from only hours before.

“What mission is that?”

“The mission to ruin my pussy and fuck me so hard that I can’t walk to dinner tonight.” She says with a giggle and the room now fills with my loud, exuberant laugh.

“Room service then?” I ask and she nods.

The rest of the night is spent laying in each other’s arms, snacking on anything and everything we wanted from room service and even a warm bath by the windows overlooking the ocean.

Emma is draped across my chest as soak in the bubbles with candles and champagne.

“So, what should the next mission be?” I wonder aloud. Our “missions” now simply meaning all of the ways we plan to be intimate on this vacation.

“I know, but I might have to wait a day or so.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that.”

“So my pussy doesn’t fall off from abuse.” I smirk at her.

“You asked and I provided. Well then, at least tell me the mission.”

“To fuck on the balcony.” Emma suggests with an arched eyebrow and all of the blood goes rushing back to my dick like it hasn’t been there all afternoon. I throw my head back in exasperation that now I have to wait and it’s all I’m going to be able to think about, other than the proposal she doesn’t know about.

“Unless you’re not interested?” Emma plays on, clearly knowing my head is filled with indecent thoughts as she wiggles against my erection and I playfully thrust against her.

“Better hope this bath heals that sweet peach up, because that balcony fuck is definitely going to happen.” I inform her as I wrap my arms around her.

I don’t know what I’ve done in my life to deserve this, but here with this woman right now is my version of heaven.

Part 17

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar, @wetzilly

A/N: I was going to focus only on the proposal, but my smutty self took over and that became the focus of this chapter. Sorry not sorry 😜 The proposal is coming, I promise! I just got too distracted by the thought of Syverson shirtless on a tropical vacation.

#captain syverson #henry cavill characters #captain syverson fic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #captain syverson fluff

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

Still Together, Still Going Strong

Synopsis: One where Harry and YN are getting a divorce but they can't seem stay away from one another

More of my work

YN has never been this mad and upset on Harry.

Why wouldn't she be? When he's ready to throw away a decade they spent together under the bus like that.

It was just five months ago Harry had said he wanted a divorce. Why, you may ask?

Is because he has been feeling he's lost himself. No doubt, that is a valid reason and she respects it. She has been there for him through all his lows she was willing to do so now too. She knows he needs a break, it is not easy to be a parent and have a job which asks so much of your time and energy.

He had his own reasons which by all means are very valid, he's never cheated, he's not cheating now. Nothing made sense to YN.

Every Monday evening when he'd drop off the twins at hers and they're off to bed, he's back to being her Harry. The same soft and living guy she fell in love at eighteen, the same guy who kissed her over and over again thanking her for giving the two most beautiful boys to love and care for.

YN had moved to the flat her parents bought her a year prior she moved in with Harry at his. It wasn't as big as the house which were their home, but it was big enough for her and the little toddlers and the cat Harry and her adopted just when they moved in together. They had been very good at co-parenting considering the twins are just two years old now. She had them for the whole weeks because the boys are just so used to her being around, though Harry came in to see them in between whenever he could.

Living apart felt like a norm, especially to YN as she's so used to her husband (now soon to-be-ex-husband) being on tour so much. She just didn't had her soft space to fall back to now.

He says it isn't her, or the kids. But he can't run away from the kids, unless he verbally says he doesn't want the responsibility of a father anymore— it wasn't him conveying the reasons to her but his legal representatives. He doesn't want to be away from the twins, he's been very firm about it. So it must be her.

YN still can't put a finger on what she has done to probably piss him off so much he wants a divorce now. Though she haven't got the time to think about it either with looking after the twins and working. She had a desk job and her dad's business to look after now thay he's retired, she doesn't get even the weekends to herself.

To make it all worse for her, he still says his I love yous to her, he still kisses like the first time he did, he still calls her by the little weird pet names. Hell, they even made love just last Monday and days he'd visit the twins mid week. This wasn't fair for her. And she didn't know how to process it all.

"Harper." YN ran after the little boy who was running away from eating his dinner whilst his twin was being nice, shirtless in just his little pink shorts. "Come back here."

"No!" Harper squealed but he fell down on his bum laughing.

"Gotcha!" YN announced scooping him up.

"Bum-bum!" He pointed out saying he fell down on his bum.

"Yeah, you did fell on your bum-bum." YN laughed giving him a kiss, she placed him on his highchair next to his brother. "Harlow, do you like it?" The other blond boy was already chomping away at little pieces of chicken and picking carrots from rice in front of him in the bowl.

"Yes!" He announced.

"You're giving your Mummy a hard time, aren't you?" Harry's spoke serving Harper his dinner, he dipped his head down to press a kiss on his boy's head.

"It's okay he's still little." YN spoke walking in kitchen. She knows he's just joking but she didn't like it for what she didn't know, nor she wanted to know. She is just mad. He'd just decided to stay over for dinner like he lives there with them, like they're not getting a divorce in two weeks. Like they're not having their assets divided equally in between. Like the media didn't already knew he's separating from his partner of ten years. It made her so furious just because she haven't gotten the time to sit by herself and process everything. Everything was happening so fast.

"Baby what's wrong?"

"I think you should leave now Harry," YN suggested, as she furious started cleaning around the kitchen, the mess he made in attempt of helping hera. She never mind him making a mess in the kitchen, until now. "I've got work tomorrow."

"I can help put the boys to bed," he offered.

"I don't need it, I just need you to leave my house now." She deadpanned, stopping dead in her actions to glance at him once. Harry was taken back, he glanced at the boys who were busy exchanging their food and eating before he walked back in the kitchen.

YN felt his hands on her hips as he pulled her back from scrubbing the counter like it's got some deadly disease on it, she watched as blood rush back to her finger tips on the release of her death grip on the wash clothe. She didn't liked the way his hands felt on her body for the first time, it felt so wrong.

"Look at me," he requested. For a moment there YN found herself leaning into the warmth of the palm of his hand cradling her face.

"Don't, don't touch me," she reluctantly pulled herself away, "I don't like it no more." He would kiss her there, she'd give in and they'd be huddling their way to the bathroom leaving the twins to eat their dinner.

And she proceeded to clean around. Cleaned up the twins and put them in their PJs and finally off to bed they went. Harry still lingered around, he cleaned up the highchairs and put them away, until YN came back out.

She sighed in defeat seeing him still sitting at the dining table, like he did whenever he managed to piss her off waiting for her to cool off before he could go talk to her. He did more than just piss her off now. She walked back to her bedroom and sbut the door behind her getting ready for bed. She pulled out her laptop to email her boss about wanting to take her yearly paid vacation, her leave was going to be accepted as she's that annoying employee who has to be forced to take days off. She even proceeded to call her parents to ask of she could go over and stay with them for a couple of weeks with the boys. Luckily for her, they lived just four hour drive away from her in Kingston. They didn't knew Harry and YN were getting a divorce until it became a public affair, of course they said she could go live with them for as long as she wish for.

Was she overreacting on this? Hasn't she been so understanding about the reasons Harry gave her for their separation? But was it inevitable not to be heartbroken? She had never grieved for anything or anyone before, is it really this overwhelming? This overwhelming that she has to cry?

She took in a deep breath and wiped off the tears which had managed to trickle down her eyes when she heard the door crack open. The boys liked to sleep in her bed, close to their Mummy. Something Harry isn't a fan of but she cherishes a lot. All it would take for him to give in was three pairs of doe eyes begging him and he'd be scooping up the little humans onto their bed and tucking the under the sheets. The boys are well aware that it is easy to butter their Mummy than it to their Papa, they only request to sleep in with her when with her. Smart little toddlers!

It was Harry, he still hasn't left yet. He just closed the door behind him carefully as the twins are light sleepers like their Mummy, he proceeded to take a seat in front of him on her bed. No words were shared as he just looked at her trying to figure where he should begin. He didn't know how to approach this. She is not going to say a word, he knows. They're both stubborn when it comes to confrontation.

"YN," Harry cooed trying to reach for her hand.

"You're a fucking hypocrite!" She snapped, swatting his hand away with a jerk. "You say one thing and do the complete opposite of it. Just stick to one thing! You want a divorce then set up some boundaries for fucks sake. What part of divorce do you not understand?"

"I'm trying to be there for the boys, what are you talking about?"

"I am not saying you are. I want you to stop being around me, okay? I want you to stop making it harder for me than it already is." She made it clear, "I don't want this. I don't want you touching me, I don't want you kissing me, sleeping with me, I don't want you to say you love me."

"But I do love you," he rushed, "doesn't mean we're getting a divorce that I don't love you anymore. I can never stop loving you, I don't think I can even do that. I gave you my reasons. We're separating mutually, aren't we?"

Answer to his question was, no. It's not mutual. She's agreeing just for his sake. She doesn't want a divorce, she wants to work through it.

He was coming home late after being out with his friends, drunk and high his ass off after long studio sessions now that he's been writing his new album, he never bothered anyone and went straight to bed. Whilst YN didn't liked that, she still let it slide for a month and a half. It started getting on her nerve when he'd be grumpy all day with a major hang over, she snapped when he yelled at the boys who were just wanting to play with him. It was the very next day he told her he wants a divorce and left for the studio.

"Be honest with me, do you not want it?" He asked when she said nothing. "YN?"

"No!" She exclaimed, "I don't want this. Why would I want to break a relationship that we spent a decade to make perfect? It's just not me and you anymore, we have two little ones now."

YN's trying hard not to break down in front him. Whatever it is he does not need to see her cry, and it usually made her feel weak. It usually is easy for her to cry bit deal with everything which comes her way calmly without a breakdown. She felt the sinking feeling in her stomach, physically.

"I am going to go stay with my parents for a couple of weeks." She shared, "you can come over to see the kids and I think you should leave now." She walked over to the door to open it for him. He's got no other option than to leave. It's better he did that and get his shit together for him to talk about this.

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

"YN, come help me." Her dad said, he carried the gardening tools. Twins were out with their grandma and Aunty for grocery shopping. She was lied on the sofa staring at the ceiling as some episode of Friends played in the background.

It's been a week and half and YN's fallen sick as she expected. It was meant to happen with how overworked she has been, she's had a fever and has been throwing up every morning. She has been sick and more lost especially today since morning.

Her parents haven't bought up the topic of her divorce yet, they can still see how it has been affecting. God, how they didn't liked him for their daughter at first. They had no idea how much she loved him, that for the first time she rebelled against them. It wasn't just her teen phase, they came to realise soon enough.

"Do you want me to take you to doctor again?" Her asked.

"No, I'm fine now." She shrugged and started with cleaning out dried out leaves from her dad's garden.

"How do you like these? Harper picked this." He showed her the new rose plant he'd got just yesterday when he took the boys out so she can rest.

"Good." She nodded. "I, I want to go sleep."

"Okay, did you take you medicines?" Her dad enquired.

"No, I, I'll take it." She assured him before she walked inside, just as she was about to go to her room she saw the mess that was her sister's room. Her kids were sleeping in her sister's room because she was sick. Toys everywhere. Not that her sister was rhe tidiest person she knew, she still picked up after her toddlers.

"Mumma!" Harlow came running to her followed by Harper, both of them tackled her with hugs. "Nani gave chocolate!" He showed a tiny packet of Reeses cups, his brother got one too.

"Yay!" She celebrated, "did you say thank you to Nani?"

"Yes!" Harper nodded, "open, pwease?"

They'd already had their lunch so YN opened the chocolate wrappers for both of them, had them sit down with their toys. There were so much to play with at their Grandparents' place, but the boys hardly fought over the same toy. When her sister got back to her room, YN went back to hers to get in a nap.

"YN?" She heard her mum calling her from the living room. Sighing she got out of bed to check what her mother had to say. "Harry's here to see the kids."

"No, I'm just here to talk to you for now." Harry rushed, "would you please?" He gestured her to go out with him. She walked him to her room. "Baba told me you're sick."

Yeah, he called her father Baba.

"I'm sorry." He started, "never asked you if you wanted this."

"Thank you." She nodded, now sat on her bed.

"I was just being stupid." He admitted crouching in front of her, "but I never lied when I said I feel like I've lost myself. You know we never talked about boys until recently to anyone. It felt like I was living two different lives. It is very hard, I feel so guilty that I can't be there for you and our babies but I also love to tour and be on stage." He voice cracked as his eyes brimmed with tears, "it looked easy to do this. Guess I was being selfish with choosing what I want, I don't know how I feel about it yet. I just needed a break to get my shit together. Can't stay away from you, I realised, or I can't stay away from our boys. It's just that I haven't been able to give the three of you much of my time, but also don't wanna stop touring."

"All this while you've been nothing but so supportive of me, I am so sorry I didn't realise you'd support me through this too. You respected the reasons I gave you which I now call bullshit. You don't want this yet agreed to it. You've been through all the highs with me, guess I didn't wanted you to be through the lows. Just want you to be happy and not worry about anything. I am sorry lovie, I don't want it anymore. Still want to be with you." He grabbed her hands in her lap, "you think you can forgive me, please?"

He looked just like the boys with his doe eyes looking up at her (or you can say the twins are xerox copy of him), he was crying. Tip of his nose turned pink, same shade as his lips.

"You need to take a break, from everything." She spoke, "it's not stupid or bullshit to feel overwhelmed, okay? You don't have to make a choise between what you love, it's not how it works. You're an amazing father to the boys. It hurt me so much that you didn't wanted to be with me anymore, did I do something? Do you not feel attracted to me anymore? Have you fallen out of love with me? Is there som—"

"No, no, no, no!" He rushed cutting her off mid sentence, "It's not that, I don't know why I said I want a divorce. God I love you and only you. It's just you. Please, please, please don't ever think about it!" He brought her hands to his mouth pressing little sloppy kisses on her knuckles as he sobbed quietly, he didn't even imagine it would come out this way to her. God he never even looks at anyone else other than her. It was a stab in his heart that she thought he's in love with someone else. Hell, he's on his knees for her now! "Let's take it back. I don't want to get a divorce. Don't want you to leave, please!"

He broke down sobbing even more when she pulled him in a warm embrace, he just cried with his face buried in her chest like a baby. His arms wrapped around her like he's falling off a cliff.

Harry honestly didn't know why he did that, why he let things go this far with the divorce. God he couldn't imagine his life without her. He loves her too much. He thought maybe he could have one less thing to feel guilty about if they separate. But he was proved very just this morning when he went to her flat to see the kids and also her just to realise she's at her parents, four hours away, he straight away drove to her.

It scared him. Even though she was still close by yet he felt like she's out of reach. He's never felt that way before, cal him overdramatic for acting on this as fast he could and go back to her. Her dad was probably mad at him as he texted him about how sick she's been, turned out he was just telling him how YN is doing. He also missed his little boys.

"We're never going to complain about you not being there for her," she started speaking for the kids as well, "they love you Harry, so do I. We'd nothing but for you to be happy with us. Don't want you to feel guilty, you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to feel pressured to leave what you love to do. I knew what I was signing up for when I said yes to be with you, never once I thought you were a bad partner. I don't know where it all came from, but I love you so much. We're going to work this out, I'm not going anywhere, our boys are not going anywhere, okay? I promised you, didn't I? Through highs and lows."

"We are!" He said, firmly as he pulled away enough to look at her sniffling. "I love you so much!" He peppered her face with more sloppy wet kisses before pulling her in a bear hug. It was her turn to cry her heart out, feeling the assuring weight of his hand on the back of her head, his finger flexing in gentle strokes on her scalp. "Hey, it's okay, we'll be okay." She wrapped her arms around his middle tightly.

YN's been a mess since Monday and it's only Thursday, especially since her last doctors visit with her mum. She has been going through same symptoms she went through when she was pregnant two hears ago, sore breasts, nood swings, nausea, morning sickness. God she was put into such a bad mental space when the doctor suggested she takes a pregnancy test. There were chances she was pregnant, her and Harry were still having sex being careless about using the right protection, she hasn't got her period in a month. But YN's also been a hormonal mess since giving birth, breastfeeding and then stopping to breastfeed, that messed up with her periods too.

On one hand she wanted the test to turn out to be positive so she can just have her husband call off the divorce thinking about another child, the selfish and cruel side of her spoke. On other hand she didn't wanted it to be positive because she just can't bear another pregnancy after such a short time, physically. Especially since her first one has taken such a huge toll of her. The first time she was pregnant, she had twins.

She was glad the test came out negative. She started with her period the very next day, explaining her nausea and sore breasts. That also explains her breakdown in the moment.

"Hey sweetheart, it's alright." He assured her trying to calm her down, "no, no you're gonna get more sick." The last time she cried like this was when she failed one of the most important entrance exam for the course she was wanting to take up and made herself sick. He worried.

Harry noticed it's started to get dark outside, they've been locked in her bedroom for so long talking it all out. He heard the twins screaming and squealing outside, probably playing with YN's brother and sister. "Baby did you fell asleep on me?" He checked on his wife who hasn't moved in a long moment. She was letting letting endorphins settle in her.

"No," she pulled away enough to look at him, "I didn't."

Should she tell him about the test?

"I, I had to take a test on Monday." She started nervously glancing at him before he fixed her gaze on her hands in her lap, "it came out negative."

"You wanted it to be positive?"

"I don't know," she sighed, finally looking up at him he was sat back on his heels now, still close enough to her. She flet bad for even thinking of guilt tripping him into staying there. But did she also had the heart to tell she doesn't want to separate in the first place? When he told her he's been overwhelmed with responsibilities.

"You want to take a nap?" He asked, "we can go out to get dinner, just us, later?"

"I don't want to go out." She shook her head, "don't feel well."

"That's okay, I want you to take a nap now, hmm?" He proceeded to pull back the blanket on the bed and slip off her house slippers off her feet, urging her to lie down. So she did. "They're having fun outside, don't worry about them just get in some rest, sweetheart." He cut her off before she could even utter a sound, he tucked her in softly.

"Harry, I—"

"We'll talk more later, baby, I promise." He interrupted her again, but watched her face turn into more of an angry one, "just want you to rest, look at you, sunken eyes, runny nose. Okay, what is it?" He rested his head on her pillow as he scooted closer to the bed still sitting on the floor.

"I wanted it to be positive, the test at first." YN shared. She just can't keep things which are bothering her to herself.

"I don't think we should have another baby. Did you wanted one?"

"No, I don't think I can do it again. Not this soon. Be pregnant I mean. I thought, this is so very wrong, I thought if it were to turn out to be positive you'd change your mind about this. Be—because I didn't know how to tell you I don't want to get a divorce." She stuttered, as new set of tears pooled in her reddened eyes. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Why didn't you wanted to tell me you don't want that?" He cooed, his hand running soothing strokes on her back.

"Because..." She sighed as she trailed off, "because you said you were overwhelmed by everything. I didn't wanted to hold you back when you wanted one less thing to worry about."

"Well, I was very wrong." He started of with a firm statement, "I felt like I was just a bad husband to you, the worse one to ever exist. I mean, I can see it clearly now. You've been overworking yourself..."

"You're not." She commented.

"Yes, I am. Cancelled my tour, I want to try this and put the boys and you first for now." He shared, "I don't want to hear anything about it, I want this and will not complain about it, I promise."

He knows her way too much, doesn't he? He can really tell what she's about to say just by looking in her eyes.

"You really want that?" She still asked.

"Went regularly to see my therapist last week, talked to her about this. I realised I really want this. She really helped me through when I was confused. Lemme do this for me, for us, yeah?" His voice was nothing but assuring. Now he rarely talks whereabouts of his therapy sessions, to anyone for the matter of fact, but when he does it's when he's made firm decisions which he plans to stick to. Though YN would have supported him if he still wanted to go on tour.

"Okay." She agreed.

"Can I get a kiss? Missed you so much!" Harry was already leaning in but she pulled back.

"Don't want you to get sick!"

"I don't care." He shrugged, dipped his head lower to press a gentle kiss on her mouth. "I love you."

"I love you." She leaned into his touch, little puppy kiss they shared.

"You want to come home?" He asked.

"I want to stay here for the rest of my days off." She shook her head. It was just going to clear her mind and give her some rest now, plus she doesn't feel like driving back to Hampstead when one of her organ is literally bleeding haywire.

"That's alright." He nodded, "are you going to come back home on Monday then?"

"Mhmm." She nodded. He gave her another firm kiss on her mouth.

"Rest now, okay? I'll go see our babies." He gave her yet another kiss, before he reluctantly walked to the bathroom to wash off his face first. He headed out to see Harper and Harlow.

"Yay, Papa!" Both of them went running to him as expected.

Harry was gonna be pulled y YN's dad to a side to give him a bug talk. He could sense it. Her dad is protective of her. Harry wouldn't blame him, he'd do the same if anyone to hurt his kiddos. So he braced himself.

To his surprise, he was forced to stay over for the weekend with the family. They never brought up the topic of divorce which was now being scrapped, though all of them were happy to hear they're planning to stay together.

YN knew people online are gonna hate her, if they didn't already that Harry cancelled his entire tour just because he wants to give his family the time and love they deserve from him. Also the pull back from divorce was gonna divid his fandom into two parts for sure, just like their wedding did.

YN and Harry both got married at just the age of 19 and 20, which was their own decision after dating of year and half and he was still in the band. Very young indeed but it was their decision. It wasn't taken very well by the media. But who cares?

They're still together and going strong!

N O T E :

1) I wrote this in like few sittings. Sorry if there are any typos or words missing. 🥺 I didn't proofread this.

2) Hope you liked this one.

3) Pls lemme know what you think, what Harry should have done in your opinion?

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - One Shot #1

The Little Things

Plot: Joel and Y/n reminisce on life before Cordyceps

Word Count: 913

Warnings: language, loss of a child (16+)

A/N: Welcome back, folks! I feel like I’m stretching my Rosebud/Joel muscles after a long break, but hopefully this is a good way to dive back in 🏊🏻‍♀️ I’ve always thought that in an apocalyptic setting, eventually your mind would have to drift to wondering what things in the world you’d missed out on!

These one shots/chapter will vary in length, but the majority of them will be set in Jackson. I’m planning a few flashbacks (where to, I’m keeping a secret 🤫) but it will mostly be Rose, Joel and Ellie adjusting to life together. I’m excited to keep this lil’ world going 💜 Enjoy, my loves!

——————

“Big Macs.”

“Ugh.”

“Why ‘ugh?’”

“Because Big Macs were disgusting.”

“Says you.”

Joel and Y/n were laid in their bed, one elbow bent towards the ceiling, their hands intertwined. It was late, they both knew they should have been asleep an hour ago.

“Whoppers were better,” Y/n mused, sticking to her fast food opinions long after the chains were gone.

Joel scoffed, “Okay…”

“What was the name of that place by the fire station?” Y/n asked, lightly slapping her flattened palm against Joel’s.

“Mmm,” he thought for a second, “Mimi’s?”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded, “That place was good too.”

“It was,” Joel smoothed his hand against Y/n’s before threading his fingers through the gaps between hers.

In the two weeks since they’d been married, both officially and unofficially, Joel and Y/n’s excitement to share a bed hadn’t wavered. Neither one of them could get home fast enough to one another after their mutual shifts in various parts of Jackson. Retiring to each other’s arms at the end of a long day of work was the sweetest reward to be earned.

“I’ve got a stupid one,” Y/n spoke up.

“There’s no stupid ones,” Joel offered back, his eyes were closed in relaxation.

“No, you’ll definitely think this one’s stupid.”

Joel smiled, “Hit me.”

Y/n inhaled deeply, sighing as she released the breath, “We never found out how Star Wars ended.”

To his credit, Joel tried to contain the laughter bubbling in his throat. But the pressure became too great to suppress and he snorted, rolling on his side and pressing his face to Y/n’s shoulder.

“You asshole,” Y/n joined in on her husband’s laughter.

“It’s not stupid,” Joel said with a contradicting smile, “It’s just that we already knew how it ended.”

“But we didn’t know how we got there,” Y/n gestured with her free hand to the ceiling, “We’ll also never know how Friends ended or if there would have been another Pirates of the Caribbean movie…”

Joel snickered into Y/n’s shoulder once more. Where Y/n would have once jokingly pushed him away, she let him stay. After two decades apart, no intimacy between them was ever rejected.

“I miss music shops,” Joel added once his laughter had ceased, “Can still remember the smell of all the guitars and the polishes.”

Y/n hummed, nudging her head closer to Joel’s till the tips of his curls were tickling her face.

“Maybe it’s just the playin’ I miss,” Joel continued, getting settled in Jackson was their top priority, but he was itching to find a guitar.

“I miss that perfume I used to wear,” Y/n added another entry to their game.

Joel’s head tilted in attention, “The lilac one?”

“How do you even remember that?” Y/n chuckled, their hands had separated and she was absentmindedly combing her fingers through Joel’s hair.

“I bought it for you for Christmas,” Joel replied, the heat of his breath fanning Y/n’s shoulder, “‘Member?”

The memories came flooding back from the dusty attic she’d hidden them in. “Right,” Y/n recalled.

“You said it was too expensive,” Joel added to the memory.

“Because it was.”

“You said you only bought yourself a bottle every few years,” Joel continued.

“I did.”

Just like every other time they talked about the little parts of life they missed, the conversation would inevitably hit a stopping point. A space where the memories of what once was began to press down on their chests, sometimes out of sadness, sometimes out of anger.

Joel could distinctly remember the scent of the perfume Y/n wore, how it would linger on his sheets long after she rose in the morning. All of Y/n’s memories of getting ready for date night involved spritzing the floral spray on her neck and wrists. It was the trivial things like it that represented a chapter of their lives they could never go back to.

The silence took over and Y/n’s fingers stopped their soothing motions. Joel craned his neck to look up at her, his emotions mirroring hers perfectly. Melancholia mixed with nostalgia and resignation.

This was the part of the night where they settled into each other’s arms and drew comfort from their mutual presence. It was all still so new, despite their history, and the simple act of holding one another was something for muscle memory to recall. But it was better to have the sting of what was lost soothed than to yearn in solitude.

Y/n dug her nose into Joel’s chest. Reminiscing on the past had once been a choking stab, now it was more like an ache. Ever present and ever painful, but bearable. Joel was making everything feel decent again.

Joel settled his chin on top of Y/n’s head, inhaling the scent of the simple soap they both used. Only upon Y/n and Ellie’s entrance into his life had Joel began to truly remember his past, both consciously and unconsciously. It was a whole new world to navigate, balancing his memories and building the future he thought he’d lost. But, much like Sarah’s memory, they were beginning to morph into something he could handle. He could even smile at most of them. And the ones that left him feeling hollow were filled by the embrace of his wife.

They were learning, Joel and Y/n, learning how to function as one again. If one stumbled, the other was there to pick them up. If one broke, the other was there to put them back together. It was beautiful and battle-scarred and above all else…it was safe.

————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #twenty years later

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cloudlessly-light · 3 months

Note

Another Hotchniss filth age gap idea for you bestie: How about Dave is emily's father figure (not necessarily her step-dad but he has always been there when her real parents weren't) and Aaron is his best friend….so she's essentially fucking her dad's best friend haha

A/N: Bestie you know I love the AU’s and the age difference so you KNEW this was right up my alley lol. I hope you like our idiots being filthy together!

Title: From boys to men Summary: From the moment Emily meets Aaron she knows that she has to have him, she doesn’t care that he’s older than her, doesn’t care that he’s Dave’s best friend. She wants him. Word count: 3,8k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral sex, dirty talk, choking, age difference, (Emily is 22, Aaron is 40-ish)

“Bella!”

The familiar sound of Dave’s voice makes her hurry downstairs from where she had been packing up the last few things that she still had in her parents’ home.

“Dave!” She beams and happily accepts the tight hug and kiss to her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, kiddo.”

Dave had been in her life as long as she could remember, a close friend to her parents and the one who she had come to know as a second father. In some ways he had always been the one to look out for her, even when she didn’t want it. They had only gotten closer when she moved back to the states for college. And now she was moving to her own apartment, her dorm room all packed up and she was starting a new part of her life, a part she was excited for.

“Have you got everything you need?” Dave asks just as a second figure appeared in the doorway and Emily swore she had never seen a more attractive man. “Oh right, Emily this is Aaron, one of my best friends. He’s kind enough to help out.”

“Like you’d be able to carry all those boxes without breaking your back, old man.” Aaron says causing Dave to feign hurt.

“Hey, you might be a decade younger but I am still wiser.” Dave jokes and Emily rolls her eyes. She had heard that before.

“Oh right, that’s how it goes.” Aaron teases gently and smiles at her while extending his hand. “Aaron Hotchner.”

“Emily Prentiss.” She takes his hand and shakes it, eyes locked on his. “Thanks for helping out.” When she pulls her hand back her palm tingles, the heat of his hand feeling like a brand on her skin.

“We should get going.” Dave interrupts, seemingly oblivious to the way Emily can’t tear her eyes off his best friend. “So we have time to unpack the heavy stuff and then I was thinking I’d treat you to dinner?” He looks between Aaron and Emily, his smile as kind as always.

“Sounds perfect.” She says and she sees Aaron nodding in her peripheral.

It was going to be a great day.

“So, how do you feel about living on your own?” Dave asked, chopsticks in hand. She smirked at him, knowing that he was more worried about her than anything else.

“It’ll be fine Dave, no need to worry.” She leaned back in her seat. “It’s like I’m an adult now.”

“You can’t blame me, you’re the closest thing I have to a daughter. And you’re barely an adult.” He shrugged and as much as she tried, she couldn’t keep herself from smiling.

“I’m 22 years old!” She laughs but secretly she loves that he cares for her in this way, her parents never did. “I’ll be okay, besides you’re 20 minutes away, it’s closer than when I was at Yale.”

“Yeah but-” The sound of Dave’s phone ringing cut him off and he sighed. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“Never met a busier man.” Aaron said once they were alone and she nodded as she looked at him from across the table.

She had spent most of the afternoon looking at him, feeling her mouth go dry by the way he effortlessly lifted heavy boxes, felt tingles down her spine as she watched his large hands flex as he helped her move the couch, she wondered what his hands would feel like on her body.

“So Aaron,” She made sure to put on a face of innocence “how do you know Dave?”

“We used to work together, before he retired.” Aaron leaned back slightly in his seat as he spun noodles around his chopsticks. “He trained me.”

“Oh, so you’re working for the FBI?” She made sure to keep eye contact, trying to size him up.

“Yeah, the behavioral analysis unit.” He smiled easily and Emily found herself wanting to press a finger against the dimple in his cheek.

“No wonder you carried those boxes like they weighed nothing.” When one of his eyebrows arched she let out a breathy laugh. “Of course I noticed, how could I not?” She batted her eyelashes and she could see him swallowing and then cleared his throat.

“I’m flattered.” He said and looked down at his plate. He should not find a girl more than 15 years younger than him this attractive, he should not wonder what her lips tasted like or imagine the softness of her skin.

“Sorry about that.” Dave is suddenly there, sitting down and Aaron breathes a sigh of relief.

He could not go there with Emily, she was off limits.

It’s been three weeks since she moved and Aaron and Dave had both popped in to help out around the apartment, building furniture and painting walls even when she had told them both that she didn’t need their help. But she wasn’t going to argue too much, because seeing Aaron always ended with her hand between her legs later that night as she thought of him. She knew that he had caught on to the flirting, but he was still keeping his distance.

What he didn’t know was that what Emily wanted, she got. And she wanted him.

It was a warm Sunday when she got home from lunch with a friend. When she entered her apartment it was bordering on suffocatingly hot and she quickly made her way towards the AC. To her frustration it was dead and she had no idea what was wrong with it. She groaned as she pushed her hair out of her face.

“Great.” She muttered and reached for her phone to call Dave.

“Hey kiddo.” He sounded unusually happy she thought.

“Hey Dave, I have a question. What do you know about AC’s?” She started to move around the apartment to open the windows.

“Absolutely nothing.” He chuckled when she let out a sound of annoyance. “Besides, I’m in LA for the weekend, coming back tomorrow. But call Aaron, he might be able to help.”

Well that got her in a great mood.

“Okay, thanks.”

“Anytime Bella.”

She hung up and made her way towards her bedroom to change as she called Aaron.

“Aaron Hotchner.” He sounded distracted she thought.

“Hey, Aaron it’s Emily.” She kicked off her jeans and tore of her t-shirt as she kept him on speakerphone.

“Emily, are you alright?” She could hear the pause in his voice and she didn’t blame him.

“Yeah I’m fine, but my AC is out and I don’t know how to fix it and Dave is gone this weekend but he suggested that I could call you… Do you think you could come over?” She bit her bottom lip as she waited for his response that seemed to take forever.

“I can be there in an hour.”

Game on.

Almost exactly 60 minutes to the dot later, he was knocking on her door. When she opened it she saw the quick look of surprise on his face at the state of her undress. She had decided on a thin tank top and the shortest shorts she owned, blaming it on the heat if he dared to bring it up.

“Thank you for coming.” She smiled and gestured for him to come inside.

“Not a problem, hopefully I can figure it out.” As he moved towards the AC, she sat down on the couch.

“I’ll call someone tomorrow if you can’t.” She let her eyes move over him, he really was a stunning man. She wasn’t sure if he heard her, his focus already on the AC as he looked it over.

It didn’t take long, Aaron pushing buttons and looking over some of the wires before the buzz of the AC sounded through the apartment and Aaron laughed.

“Well, that was quick enough.” He said, his eyes lingering on her smooth thighs for a moment before forcing himself to look away.

“Sorry you had to drive all the way here for that.” She stood from the couch and batted her eyelashes as she slowly licked her bottom lip. When his eyes fastened on it she knew that she hadn’t imagined the way he had been looking at her.

“Not a problem. But now it’s fixed so I-” His words are cut off by the feeling of Emily’s hands pushing him against the wall. She’s so close that he can smell her perfume, could count her freckles and he knows that he should push her away, but he doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” He asks instead, voice low and the raspiness of it lets her know that he’s not unaffected by her proximity.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She pushes up against him and he backs harder into the wall. With a smirk on her face she tilts her head as she looks up at him.

“We can’t.” He shakes his head, tries to rid himself of her perfume and soft body against his. Then her hand lands on his chest and he watches as she slowly moves it up to gently grab the back of his neck. When her nails scratch the base of his skull he swallows down a groan.

“Why not?” She doesn’t let his words deter her, she could feel his want pressing against her hip, could see how his pupils dilated.

“You’re too young.” He gets out through a clenched jaw and she laughs at his reply. “And you’re basically Dave’s daughter.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t” She tugs slightly on his short hair and his hands grab her hips in response. But he doesn’t push her away, and she knows she has him. “I want you. And I know you want me too.”

“Emily…” His fingers flex around her hips as he tries to keep some resemblance of control. But there’s no denying the want he feels when he looks at her, the attraction that had been clear the moment they met. When he opened his eyes she was even closer, her lips almost brushing against his. “I should have known you were trouble from the start.”

“You have no idea.” She whispers and then her lips press against his. The moment they kiss Aaron seems to give in fully, his hands moving from where they had been frozen on her hips to the small of her back, pulling her further into him. When his tongue licked at the seam of her lips she moaned softly and she swore she heard a sound of satisfaction from him.

He pushed her back, breaking their embrace and when he looked at her again, her breathing hitched. The hesitation that had previously been there was long gone as he looked at her with something dark, his eyes moving over her body slowly, deliberately and she felt her cheeks flush.

“What?” She finally asked, almost squirming under the intensity of his stare.

“You really are a gorgeous thing.” He muttered and caught her lips in another kiss, his hand firm around the back of her neck while the other sneaked under her tank top. He broke the kiss only to taste the skin of her jaw, her neck, taking note of what spots made her gasp and moan.

“Take of your shirt.” He said and Emily let out a breathy chuckle.

“So this is how this is going to go? You barking orders at me?”

“Yes.” The tone of voice was firm, determined, his face stern as he stared her down and she could feel her cheeks heating at the same time as heat settled as a dull ache between her legs. It’s his turn to smirk, happy with how fast the tables turned. “You don’t think I can’t tell that’s what you really want? What you crave?”

She swallowed hard when his fingers tangled in her hair, giving her a moment before pulling back, forcing her head back and she gasped.

“There she is.” He mumbled against her jaw. “See you’re not as good as you make yourself out to be in front of others, are you?”

“Aaron,” Her hands were fisting his shirt, close to ripping the fabric. In a matter of seconds he had taken complete control and she had never wanted anyone more. “Please.”

“Please what?” He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth and pulled lightly.

“More, fuck anything.” She breathed and he let go of her hair with a hum of satisfaction.

“Come on.” He put just enough distance between them to take her hand in his and dragged her towards the bedroom. When he turned back to her he quickly grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it over her head, a low groan sounding in his throat when he saw that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Naughty girl.”

She didn’t get the time to respond, his lips once again on hers as they started to tear at clothes. Her hands moved over his strong chest, enjoyed the heat of his skin and the feel of his chest hair against her palms before moving further down to work on his jeans. With some help from him, she got them off, his jeans and boxers landing in a pile on the floor and her shorts soon following.

The sound that ripped from his throat when she wrapped her hand around his painfully hard shaft sent tingles along her body, and she knew she needed to hear it again. She pulled him into another kiss, only licking over his bottom lip for a moment before continuing to kiss down his jaw. His stubble was rough against her lips, a feeling she enjoyed until Aaron’s heavy hand pushed in her shoulder, urging her further down.

When her knees hit the floor with a soft thump she looked up at him with wide eyes, her hand still stroking him.

“Open your mouth Emily.” He pushes his thumb between her lips and when her tongue circles the pad of it he smiles. “Good girl.” He pulls his thumb out and gives her a nod and it’s the only thing she needs before she takes his cock in between her lips.

Her mouth is wet and hot and he hisses at the sudden pleasure as she licks around the tip of him, tasting his precum with a sigh before moving further down. He throws his head back as she takes more of him, he’s sure he’s never felt a more wicked mouth around him.

Emily keeps her eyes on him, gauges his reactions and feels smug as he groans and swears above her. Like he senses it he looks back at her, and his fingers tangle in her hair again. The scratch of his short nails against her scalp makes her moan and his hips buckles against her face in return to the vibrations around his shaft.

“Can you take it all?” He growls, fingers tightening slightly as she licks the length of him. She isn’t sure she can, he’s thick and long but she was damn well going to try so she nods. Her lips wraps around him again, and she slowly pushes forward, making sure to flick her tongue and relax her throat.

“Fuck, just like that.” He doesn’t push her forward, watches in awe as she chokes and her eyes turn glassy. “Gorgeous.” He mumbles, more to himself than anything as he watches how she pulls back to breathe and then takes him back in her mouth. This time she doesn’t stop until the entire length of him has disappeared and when she chokes, he groans at the way her throat contracts around him.

She pulls back gasping, a tear falling from her eye and he carefully brushes it away and she smiles, proud that she had done what he asked. As she tries to continue, his fingers tighten in her hair and she hisses at the pull.

“Come here.” He gasps and effortlessly pulls her up to stand again. His hands move over her body, taking in every curve and valley as he lays her on the bed. He listens to her moans as he sucks on a nipple, watches the flush on her skin as he touches her everywhere except where she wants. She tries to turn them, but he’s too strong and easily pins her down with a slight shake of his head. He licks between the valley of her breasts, sucks hard on her collarbone, making her mewl. When her legs spread for him he smiles against the skin of her neck.

“What do you need?” He whispers, one hand moving between her legs, gripping the soft skin of her thigh and then slowly moving further up.

“You.” She pants, her body feeling like it was on fire from his lips and touch. She could barely think, let alone form words and for a brief moment she wonders if this is what madness felt like. Then his fingers move through her, slowly, carefully and her hips twitch.

“So wet, all for me.” He wants to taste her, wants to make her fall apart again and again but his own need to feel her wins out and he quickly rolls between her spread legs. He groans at the heat of her against him, lets the length of him move against her as he claims her lips in a breathless kiss.

“Aaron, please.” She whimpers, and he knows that the sound of her begging him will stay with him forever. He keeps his eyes on hers when he pushes inside of her, wants to see the pleasure on her face. Her jaw turns slack, her eyes drift close and a moan, breathy and loud falls from her lips and he can’t help the way his hips snap in response.

Her legs wrap around his waist, causing him to go deeper inside of her and he groans lowly. He moves with long strokes, each of his thrusts met by her moving hips. She clings to him, her nails digging into his back as he fucks her hard enough for her body to jolt. The sounds that come from her are breathy and deep and unfamiliar to her, the pleasure he’s causing almost overwhelming.

“God you’re so fucking tight.” He rasps and she can only whine in response as he sneaks a hand between them to rub her clit. When her eyes roll back and her back arches into him, he takes advantage and sucks on one of her nipples.

It’s not long before she starts to feel the coiling in her belly, and she knows that Aaron feels the way she’s clenching around him when he looks down at her with a smug grin.

“If you stop I’ll kill you.” She breathes and he chuckles but he doesn’t stop.

“Already so close. It’s going to be fun to see how many times I can get you to fall apart for me.” His voice has dropped even further, his own arousal clear as he speaks. He moves up on his knees, continues to rub her clit and holds her hip with his other hand, keeping her in place as he pushes deep and hard inside of her.

She comes in only a few moments, tensing and shaking at the same time as she cries out loud enough that she knows the neighbors would be able to hear. It only seems to spur him on, his thumb insistent on her clit, and hips strong as he fucks her through it.

“One more.” He growls and she whimpers but nods. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he’d make her come again.

He grunts when she starts to clench around him again in no time at all and he rubs her clit faster. Watching Emily come might be the most erotic thing he’s ever seen and he knew right then that this wouldn’t be a one-time thing. She comes with a groan, hips buckling and head thrown back as she moans his name.

It isn’t until she’s sucking in desperate breaths of air that he slows to let her come down from her high. When her eyelids finally flutter open, her dark eyes are hazy and there’s a lazy smile on her lips.

“Let me ride you.” She says and he nods before laying down.

He watches with dark eyes as she straddles him, lets his hand rest on her hips as she starts to slowly grind on him.

“You’re so big.” She gasps, the fill of him close to painful as she moves above him. Her eyes find his, sees the same pleasure reflected in his eyes that she feels and she smiles.

“I know, baby.” He whispers as he enjoys the view of her on top of him. “You’re doing so good.”

“I want you to come inside of me.” She plants her hands on his chest and starts to move faster, lifting herself up and down. “I want to feel it.”

“Jesus Christ.” He grunts, his hips pushing up against her in response. “Make me come then, filthy thing.”

Emily keeps her hands on his chest as she grinds and rocks her hips above him, wanting him to feel as good as he had made her feel. When his hands grip her hips harder she knows he’s getting close and she lets him help her move. Then one hand moves from her hip to wrap around her neck and she gasps as she looks down at him, finding the look on his face close to wild.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He growls as he squeezes slightly around her neck. “Gonna come inside of you, pretty thing, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. If anything her movements become frenzied, the feeling of his hand around her throat and the feeling of him inside of her driving her crazy. When his hand tightens and he groans her name she whines, the sound of his name falling from her lips and it’s the last nudge he needs before his hips stutter against her and he comes with a loud grunt.

His hands loosen and she switches to slowly roll her hips against his, drawing out his pleasure until he stops her with a breathless laugh.

“Give me 30 minutes and then we’re doing that again.” He says and she feels another rush of arousal settle in her belly.

“What’s the matter, old man?” She teases and he laughs.

“Do not even think about acting like a brat right now.” He pinches her side and she jerks before settling back over his lap, happy to watch him as he catches his breath.

“So, we’re doing this again?” She asks with smiles as she looks down at him.

“Oh yes, we’re definitely doing this again.” He gently pulls her down to kiss her. “There’s no way I’m letting go of you.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

Midnight Calls

prompt: your Dragon Prince summons you to the throne room late one evening.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.1k+

note: oh, this fucking guy is doing something to me.

warnings: not edited because wonky brain gave up, poorly written Iron Throne smut (too lazy for specifics), Daemon's a simp in this, too, cursing, descriptive language and situations, allusion to domestic abuse, murder plot? ... murder plot.

next: part two: High Noon

"My Lady?" You heard from the front of your room, turning mutely away from the newly-stoked fire to spy a handmaiden sheepishly standing in the cracked doorway. "I'm sorry to intrude, but your presence has been requested - "

"By whom? It's well after midnight, Mary," you snipped, exhausted from the day's events. Your husband laid in a separate bed with his company of whores, and you? You were chosen as witness for the Princess' marriage to the Heir of Driftmark, and after the excitement of the feast, you were ready to take yourself to bed. "I am retired for the evening, for I am beyond my wits in exhaustion, so, please, go inform whomever that I am not available at this - "

"Prince Daemon has sent for you, Lady."

These words made you come to something of a screeching halt; where your heels actually skidded over the stone floor of your bed chamber. Your hands instantly fiddled with each other, slowly turning to stare at the maid as if to sus out her lie.

Truth was, years ago, when you were young and stupid, you and the Prince Daemon had something akin to a love affair; though you had never coupled before, it was something grand. Mary knew of this due to the fact that she has been your handmaiden for as long as you had been apart of court - going on some decade now.

Your father had pushed for you to marry the Prince of the City, and in fact, Daemon often liked to entertain the idea of a wedding, and putting babes in your belly, and living a 'simple' life with you. He courted you royally, loved you wholly, and never once made you feel as if you were anything less than your status - yet still lit a flame of desire in your stomach that made you feel like a dirty whore. Everything was good, the court - and most of all, the King, Daemon's grandfather - seemed to approve of the love-match and would often show their support by addressing the pair of you together as one.

And then... The Queen, his grandmother, had struck a bargain with the Royce's of the Vale, and the second son, Daemon, was wed within a fortnight after his knighthood - where you had celebrated with him lovingly. Supportively. Protectively.

You had held his hand possessively through the entire reception (not that he let go, either), kissed his cheek with desire pitting your stomach, and played your part of dutiful Lady well. You celebrated the Prince with love in your eyes, before those same eyes filled with tears when you stood in the same throne room, watching him repeat vows to a woman he'd never love.

He was different after that, distant and stoic; cold and calculating. He became brutal and unpredictable, and after his wedding, he wasn't to be seen with you - as you were still unwed.

But you held no quarrels with that because seeing Daemon in court, even, weighed your heart to your feet. His absence was always noted, and you were never sure if you were more on edge when he was present or not; yet, when he was banished, nothing ever truly stuck, as he would always return, making your stomach and heart flip.

This time around, Daemon Targaryen had strut into the throne room of the Red Keep and was offered a chair at the King's table - his brother's table - during the wedding feast of his Lady niece, the Realm's Delight and Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra.

You were in the crowd, a grimace on your face from your husband's heavy, greasy hands, and your heart turned to stone after Daemon's 'abandonment'. Sure, you understood he had no choice, but you still hated that he actually married her, and now, years later, he just pranced back into everyone's life following the news of his wife's untimely demise. And how tragic, for the young couple did not have any children, and therefore, no heirs to Rhea's home, Runestone.

To say you were suspicious was an understatement, but curiosity burned a fucking hole in your mind over what the Rogue Prince wanted with you now - after all this time - at this very late hour.

Huffing, your hands smoothed over the skirt of your evening gown, and your throat constricted with emotion to see no lie in the maid's eyes; only nervousness, and fear, as if she knew what would become of her if she did not produce you to the Prince.

Nodding, you assured, "Thank you... I will find the Prince soon."

"He's waiting for you," she glanced to the hallway; confusion knotting your stomach.

"He's out there right now?"

"No, no, Lady, but he lingers in the foyer for you," she nodded, watching you nervously pace in a small circle.

"Very well," you relented, sighing once more as you came to a halt. "Take the night off, Mary, you've worked all day. I will see you in the morning."

The maid nodded and sighed with relief, "Thank you, Lady. Yes, yes, I will see you soon for the tournament begins in the morn. Sleep well, my Lady, do not let the Prince plague you greatly."

"He's just a headache to the court, I can handle the Prince," you waved, slightly rolling your eyes; feigning passiveness while the idea of seeing the Prince again made hair on your neck and arms stand rigid with excitement.

It didn't take long for Mary to leave and for you to slip from your room, most of the castle already fast asleep from the exhaustion the day warranted. You moved along the darkened halls, still in your evening gown with heels clacking over the stone floors; thoughts and wonder over what Daemon wanted now - as you were married, and it was uncouth for him to call upon you like he was.

Yet, curiosity shot through your blood like an arrow through a pheasant.

You rounded the last corner to the foyer, slowing your gait as you glanced around; wondering where the hell your caller could've been, and why the hell you had so easily agreed to meet with him. Your hands joined in front of you again, twisting in anxiety as your head turned on a swivel to try and spy the white-haired-devil you had loved since you were a young girl, new and fresh to the courts.

You saw nothing to give any indication anyone was there, until your gaze caught the double doors to the throne room - where only one was cracked a sliver to allow a dusting of lighting to flood into the room. With as much bravery as you felt you could muster, you neared the doors, checked once more for anyone watching you, and pushed the door open only a hair more to allow you to slip inside.

The door clanged shut as you pressed your back against it.

The stone of the throne room floor was still wet with blood from the murdered Velaryon Knight, a few candles still alight to provide an outline of the room's furniture. Your eyes scanned the room before finding your caller, sat lazily on the Iron Throne - staring you down with a knowing smirk, fingers curled to toy with his bottom lip.

"My Prince," You greeted smoothly, dress fluttering as you descended the stone stairs into the lower landing of the throne room.

"What do you think?" He asked in his native tongue, having taught you what felt like a lifetime ago. And like muscle memory, your ears understood his words, and your tongue formed a response without needing to be reminded,

"Of what?"

He smirked when he heard you slip into Valyrian. "Of me, my sweet Lady, here, on the Throne," his other hand opened in a lazy gesture.

Your head cocked, shrugging, "Doesn't suit you. You look unnatural up there, my Prince."

"Is that so?"

Your smirk grew only a fraction, "It's a chair to grow old and fat in... Hardly becoming to a knight of your stature."

"My Lady knows how to flatter me," Daemon smirked.

Your feet stepped over the pooled blood, skirts of your dress dragging through the tacky substance to streak across the floor. "Why did you call me here tonight, Daemon?"

"Is that malice in your voice that I detect, my Lady?"

"You expected me to be happy?" You wondered, eyes casting to the half-burning candles around him. "Tonight has not been what I ever could've imagined - and then you send for me after midnight? I am not happy, Prince, but should you call, I'd be a fool to refuse, yes? Or so you've had it known."

"I am not the same as before," Daemon sighed patiently. "I am newly single, my Lady."

"Right. My condolences for your late, Lady wife, my Prince."

He waved your words off as you finally came to a halt at the base of the Iron Throne's pedestal. "Her passing matters not - "

"Especially since my husband still draws breath," you quipped, cocking your head; reminding him that you were not his.

Daemon sighed tiredly, "Oh, you bore me with talk of marriage to the wrong people. Come, my Lady, you know I would have you - "

"From what I've seen tonight, you'd have me, your niece, and her cousin, too! Lady Laena is truly a rare breed, a beauty beyond this age."

"Is that jealousy?" He mused, still speaking to you as if in Valyria itself. "First malice, now you are jealous? I must admit, it is not becoming on you, Lady."

"Matters not what I feel, for I am owned by a man. Who is not you, I'll remind."

This time, Daemon's head cocked, "Is that right? Never thought I'd see the day someone 'owned' you - you had the most spirit of any Lady in court - "

"Funny how things change, my Prince. Now, is there a reason for you calling on me tonight?"

Daemon leaned forward to press his elbows to his knees, gesturing you forward, "Come."

"Daemon - "

"My Lady, do you not trust me? Is that where our friendship has gotten us?" His head cocked naughtily, smirking deeper than before.

"Our friendship has brought us nothing but heartbreak, Daemon," you refused, standing your ground.

"And my wife is no longer around - "

"Leaving only one obstacle?"

"An obstacle I would gladly cut down - if it meant I could have what is owed to me!" Daemon snapped, standing to his feet in anger. "You would blame me for what was never within my control!?"

"You did not fight for me! You did not fight for us, Daemon, and now you want me to believe - that what? After all this time, you love me still?"

"I never stopped - "

"Yet you couple with your niece!?"

"ENOUGH!" Daemon roared, panting heavily.

"No!" You raged in return, stalking up the stairs. "No! You don't get to shut this down because you are uncomfortable or ashamed! For years - years, Daemon - you let me feel this! We've never spoke of it - let alone been alone to have such a conversation since the Queen Mother broke our engagement!"

His eyes turned hard, "I did not do that, dove, you do not - "

"Yet, you did nothing!"

"And what did you do?" He demanded. "Hmm? Why must this only be on me? We were both powerless against her, so, tell me - what did you do?"

"I plead," your voice wobbled, tears brimming from your confession. "I begged my father to do something - anything. I even took an audience with the Queen..."

This caught Daemon's attention, making him step closer, "What?"

"I took an audience," you repeated, emotion clawing at your throat, "to beg her to let us marry, that you were... You were all I ever desired. She spat on me in return, and married me off to Lord Tytos out of what I assumed to be vengence."

Daemon's jaw steeled at the mention of your husband, "You did not mention this before."

"When would I have? She married you within 12 days of announcing the end of our and the start of your new engagement! I had no time with you, we could not do anything - there would never have been a difference!"

His head shook as he slipped back into the Common Tongue, "You do not know that."

"I do know that you did not fight for us," you repeated, following suit and changing the way your tongue formed words. "You left me... Like it was easy to forget me..."

He stepped closer, a hand raising to your cheek and jaw, "I did not want to leave you, ever, my dove, and trust me when I say that walking away from you was the hardest thing I've ever done."

"Makes no difference now," you sniffled, allowing yourself a weak moment to enjoy the feel of his warmth. He always ran hot, like the fire in his blood warmed his whole body. You never could sleep properly, feeling far too cold at times - and with Daemon, you were always at ease.

"Tell me to do it," he growled, tightening his grip on you; tugging you into his chest to press closer. "Tell me to cut him down, my Lady, and I will. In the tournament, I will ensure your Lord husband meets his end," he spat the word 'husband', like it was acid on his tongue.

"Daemon," you breathed, his lips ghosting over your own, "I cannot ask that of you, I know you'd do it."

"And? You'd be mine again - "

"You are after too many, after too much! What? Did the other ladies already reject you? I know your niece married tonight, did the Lady Laena reject you, too?"

Daemon's body was pressed to yours, hovering over you in the dim candlelight of the throne room; the Iron Throne looming beside you both as Daemon kept your head tilted back.

"Watch yourself, Lady, I am still your Prince," his breath fanned over your lips and chin. "I could take you and make you mine, for you will never belong to another man. Tell me, my love," he purred sinfully, "has he consummated your marriage?"

Tears sprung to your eyes as you were forced back to your wedding night; gaze dropping to his chest as your lips pursed to keep emotion behind a mask of neutrality that had long since been perfected. But the change in body language, where you tensed under his hands, did not go unnoticed by Daemon.

"What is it?" he asked when you remained quiet, stroking your cheek. "What did he do?"

"Daemon," you breathed, begging him to stop without needing to say the words.

"Did he bring you harm?"

"Don't."

"Has he put his hands on you, Lady?" Daemon demanded, almost jostling your chin as he pulled you to look at him directly. "Tell me," he asked again, petting the apple of your cheek as you choked on your words. "Your Prince asked you a question."

"Daemon, w-what happens between a man and wife behind closed doors... That's sacred - that's not something we should discuss."

His lilac iris' bore into yours, staring straight into your soul, and as if watching it happen in his mind, seemed to understand, "He has brought you harm."

"It matters not," you swore, nudging closer to his chest. "You cannot help me now, Daemon, it's done."

"Tell me something?"

"Like it's a choice," you whispered, his lips pulling into a smirk. Gently, his forehead met yours, and time suddenly stopped as if you were young again.

"Why has his seed not taken?" His voice dropped to a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the glass illusion you had fallen into.

Your shoulders shrugged meekly, "He has other heirs, from earlier marriages. He... He does not share my bed often."

"No? He neglects the one duty a husband has?" He toyed, but your eyes fell from his again. "It is not welcomed, is it, my dove? You do not welcome his touch, do you?"

Sniffling, you answered, "In truth, my Prince, you have the only welcomed touch."

"Then ask me, and I will cut him down, and nothing will stand between us, my sweet," he pet the skin of your cheek, down to your pulse point - like he was drawn to the rapid beating of your heart. "There is no Queen left to tell us what to do, and we can be together."

"We speak of conspiracy, deceit, and me, of mutiny against the man I am sworn to..."

Daemon sighed, "What has he done to you?"

You huffed through your nose, "Only what you have allowed to come to pass. Tell me in truth, is my House so lowly that the Queen sought to undermine the King?"

"In truth, pet, I believe she saw the power we stoke in one another and feared for it," he licked over his lips, gently wetting yours in the process. Relishing in the smallest of gasps that fell past your lips, Daemon continued, "Knowing you and I had each other, she feared the hold we might have on the kingdom. She sought to undermine us, dove, because we showed promise to be stronger than she ever was with the King." Both of his hands seized over your hips to grind into his, hissing, "How powerful our children would be."

"Daemon - you speak dangerously," you whispered, gasping when his teeth gnashed over the sensitive skin of your neck. Your hands jolted to grab onto his biceps, squeezing in temptation as the Prince's mouth salivated from the feel of your breasts pressed against him.

"I speak only the truth," he breathed, forehead to yours; one hand now wrapped around your hips to keep them anchored to his, as the other slithered up to cup your jaw and cheek. "Give us the chance we had stolen from us," his mouth taunted your own, dancing over one another as you breathed one breath. "Let me love you, as a husband properly should."

Your resolve was crumbling, "'S improper."

"The only improper idea is that we are not together now," he all but hissed, frustration evident. "Why do you push me away, Lady? Do you not want me anymore? Say it - tell me you don't want me, and I will walk away. I will leave you alone, the only formalities being that of court."

The idea of Daemon being so far from you, and being someone else's husband again, drove your stomach into your throat. Your heart was his, and had been since you were all but 14; leaving you hardly any room to resist him, and yet duty and honor screamed in your head.

Your hand rose to pet fingertips down his face, catching his bottom lips as your mind waged war with your heart. "What if it's not the same?" You wondered, unable to draw yourself from him even if he asked you to.

Perhaps he needed to push you away - literally and physically - for you to truly let him go. But now that you were in his arms again, you did not want to stray far from them.

"You are still you," he murmured, "and I've always loved you as you are."

And like that, you were done for; rocking to your toes to press your mouth hotly against his, both releasing instant moans from the long-overdue kiss that's haunted both your dreams. His hands were everywhere at once, petting through your hair; over skin; over clothes; and gripping you in ways your husband could only imagine. Yet, your heart tugged, and your mouth muttered against his, "Tell me again."

He chuckled, pulling back to pet over your loosening braids, curling a portion behind your ear; staring beyond your soul, and into your very heart before speaking with the most conviction you've ever heard, "I love you, my dove, and I always have after all this time."

You groaned onto his lips, arms moving to coil around his neck and breathe him in as his hands squeezed your hips tightly. Daemon let his teeth rake over your bottom lip, trapping it, before suckling it wetly into his mouth; making your knees buckle some.

He breathed heavily against you, reaching back, and hissing when his palm was sliced by one of the sword points making up the Iron Throne. "See?" You mused, glancing back to the (stupid idea of a) chair and nudging Daemon. "Not suited for you, my Prince."

He chuckled, "Still... I bet you'd love to fuck me on it."

You nearly hiccuped at his words, "Daemon, if we're caught - this is already risky enough. I'm married..."

"Not for much longer," he rolled his eyes, stepping back to lower himself into the seat of the Throne; eyes never straying from yours as his legs spread almost casually, "and everyone is in bed after tonight's excitement. Wouldn't it be grand for us all to wake in the morning, to another wedding?"

You scoffed lightly, his hands holding yours tightly and easing you forward to his lap; never forcing nor rushing, but encouraging you. "Wouldn't it be a funeral first?"

Daemon cocked his head, smirking as he took hold of your hips to guide you into his lap, musing, "Technically, two of them, my dove."

With knees planted on either side of his slender hips, your cunt was pressed directly over his bulge; foreheads pressed together again, simply existing in your new position. You blinked once, then thrice, asking, "Daemon? Would you lie to me, my dragon?"

"To you?" He repeated, tutting after with a shift of his hips. "Dangerous woman, you know I cannot."

"Then tell me..." You paused, whispering over his lips, "Did you kill your Lady-wife?"

His hands tightened over yours, "Careful, dove. Those are heavy words."

"Do not lie to me, my Prince, I only wish to know the waters we are wading into," you purred, gently rolling your hips forward to test the waters of uncharted territory. Judging by how he stiffened some and held you in a bruising grip, you wagered you were doing something right as you were never charged with another man's pleasure.

You were barely charged with your own.

However, without Daemon, you felt no life in you - no reason to touch yourself, save for the few times in court he had made meaningful eye contact with you before and in-between his banishments.

Now, you had time to show him your adoration, and how perfectly ready for this you felt after the realm's biggest event of the year - a Royal Wedding. Your previous words added with your ministrations caused Daemon's brain to fog a bit before clearing when your teeth nipped his bottom lip. He confessed, "I did not kill my Lady-wife, but by the Gods, do I wish it were me. To get rid of that which stands in our way."

"She is not all," you reminded, his forehead slick against your own.

"I will handle your husband," Daemon promised, helping your hips roll into his at a more practiced pace. "Leave it to me, dove, just give me permission, and he's done for. You and I can finally be together, like we were meant to be, hmm?" he nodded against you, panting lightly as his experienced body felt like a virgin's again by the very idea of having the woman he loved - finally.

You whined against his lips, clinging to his body as your hips moved with his as if with a mind of their own; a wet patch forming under you from how aroused you were, and evidently, how much he was, too. Feeling bold, your hands clamped over his shoulders, and you pushed and pulled your hips with more of a swirl; gaining friction and speed.

"Shit," you cursed, the feeling indescribable. "'S always like this?" You slurred a bit, mouth at his ear as you were focused on the feeling of his hips under yours.

"Can be," he promised, pulling your face to his, licking against your lips; pressing a few searing kisses against your mouth.

"Fuck," you moaned, dry-humping Daemon like you were being paid for it; but not a single fiber of your being cared for how fucked-out you already were. He was the man of your dreams, someone you'd never move on from - and here he was, all yours.

How powerful you felt in that moment.

Daemon even hissed lightly in appreciation when your hand grabbed around his throat to hold him still as your lips and teeth nipped his. "Dove," he panted your old nickname like a prayer held at an alter, bliss coating every syllable; lips licking over the shell of your ear, "I'm not gonna last, and I'll be damned if I don't finish in you tonight."

The notion knotted your stomach, "And if your seed sticks?"

"Then we know who the Gods favor," he purred, biting his bottom lip as he fought off a knowing grin; hips hoisting yours up to hold, allowing him to reach for his trousers to find them already unlaced. "How'd you do that?" he asked with a small laugh, freeing himself from the fabric.

You only winked, leaning in to capture his smiling lips in another kiss as both his hands returned to your hips to squeeze. He let you grind over his lap once, twice, and a third time before lifting you gently again so he could gather the skirts of your soiled dress. "Oh," you gasped when your bare cunt came to settle over his glistening cock.

"Mh," he sighed out, holding you against him. "Just the smell of you is enough for me, dove."

A shiver raked over your body, wondering what the hell was wrong with the Lady Rhea Royce to not bed her husband... Or was that more his doing? "Daemon," you moaned wantonly against his ear, letting yourself squirm on his lap.

"Gods, dove," he hissed, grabbing at your throat to lift your head, "fucking soaking me." He groaned and tossed his head back when your hips swirled to coat his cock with your gathering slick. Another moan fell from your mouth as he reached between you to swipe his fingers down your slit; causing you to jump in slight panic as a fingertip dared to round the rim of your puckered hole - forcing a strangled moan from your throat. "Shhh," he crooned, "'s me, dove. Just me," he soothed, easing a finger down again, into your wanting, pulsing, hot and slick hole; licking his lips, "and you know I've got you. Hmm? Say it, my love."

The sentimental term of endearment was not lost on your ears, yet you only replied, "I know you've got me, my Prince. Only you - only ever you, fuck."

"That's right," he praised, adding another finger as your back arched and thighs quaked a little from straining in order to give him room to work. "There's my good girl, fuck..." His teeth nipped at your ear lobe, humming in appreciation, "Always were such a good girl for your Prince, weren't you, my dove?"

One of your hands was laid along his shoulder to hold the back of his neck as the other cradled his cheek; hips held at an angle as you pressed to him in an arch. "Only ever wanted you," you affirmed in his ear, rocking your hips as his fingers increased speed, "and I always want to please you."

He groaned lightly, your slick arousal causing his fingers to squelch in an echo across the throne room - both moaning at the explicit obscenity. "Fuck - you do, sweet girl," he whispered, voice hoarse from want. "Always fucking please me - just looking at you - fuck," he licked a bold strip up your neck, ending at your ear, "always were the prefect minx for me - no matter how broken you think you are, my dove, you're still so fucking perfect to me. Hmm?" His voice grew steadier as he held you up; legs giving out as his fingers found that spot within your walls, and focused all his energy on that single spot. "Know what you are to me? Know how I will spend my life worshipping you? Never want you to change, dove," his fingers curled inside you, "always want you wild, and free - " He trailed off with a taunt breath, gathering your wetness in his palm as if milking you for your nectar. "Such a good girl, making a fucking mess, mhmph, yes."

"Daemon," you whimpered in a broken whisper that told him more than your words could right now.

"Cum on my fingers, dove. Fuck - I wanna feel you. Fuckin' everywhere, just wanna be with you," he almost deliriously admitted as your cunt contracted around his fingers and he had to hold you close as your hips stuttered to trap his hand between you two. "Fuck, that's it," he praised you, "that's my good girl, such a pretty little thing. Gods, look at you," he teased lightly, looking down at you splayed against his chest as he retracted his fingers and hand from the warmth of your caverns. "My pretty princess, huh?" He slipped back into his native tongue.

You chuckled breathlessly, almost rolling your eyes. Instead, you hummed, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his pale neck and encouraging his head backwards for you to explore his flesh. "Only for you, my Prince," you promised, reaching between you to grab him in full. And oh, how delicious he felt in your hand - hot and heavy, like all those rumors whispered.

Daemon stiffened slightly as you acquainted yourself with the feel of his cock; the velvet softness a sharp contrast to that of the wrinkled displeasure your husband bestowed you with. "Yes, that's it," he whispered as your hand worked over him; letting your sopping-wet cunt roll in tandem, "oh, that's my good fuckin' girl."

"Daemon," you whined lightly, boldly smearing your thumb through the gathering pre-cum leaking from his engorged tip.

"What's my princess want? Hmm?" He taunted lightly through a thick tone, still very much in control of the situation despite letting you feel somewhat like the boss. A red flush was creeping up his chest and neck, making your mouth salivate as he demanded, "Tell me, sweet girl, and I can give you - "

"You," you whined, still rocking against him with your wrist rolling to accommodate the sheer size of him, "jus' want you, my Prince, please."

He growled, both hands now tightly fisting the ends of the arm rests of the Throne you were sat upon, "Beg for me again."

"Please," you whispered, "been so patient, please - want you inside me, my Prince - my love - please. Show me that what I dream of every night is truth, that those rumors I was forced to listen to after your marriage are right."

He stiffened lightly, knowing the rumors you spoke of - the rumors of him in bed, how whores would literally line up when he showed up at any pleasure house, how he fucked through most of the city by now all in an effort to avoid his Lady-wife.

Truth was, he couldn't get you out of his mind, and if he couldn't have you, he'd have anyone who reminded him remotely of you. Anyone with the color hair, eyes, skin tone - same smell - same height - or body shape. Anyone he could imagine being you, and occasionally, would pay a little extra if his bed companions would let him call them your name. He figured it was the only way he'd have you, but now, he knew what he had to do to ensure you never slipped through his fingers again.

"C'mere," Daemon growled, lifting your hips to position you; and with his eyes locked with yours, lowered you. Your mouth opened in a gasp when his cock rimmed the seam of you, holding on tighter as he pressed you further, pushing inside, and kept lowering you until seated fully in his lap. "No," he nodded when your hips went to move, "just take a moment, dove. Feel it - feel everything. Become friendly with this feeling," he instructed dutifully, uncharacteristically patient as his hands squeezed the fat at your hips. "'S pleasure, fullness, my dove. 'S me you feel," his breath was hot on your ear, "and it's me you'll feel for days more."

"Oh, fuck," you breathed, unable to think rationally as he guided you in gently rolling your hips to grind your clit against his pubic hair. "Daemon - oh, shit."

"Yeah?" he grinned wickedly, letting your movements naturally increase as your pleasure spread. "This is what it is, my dove. This is," he paused to groan when your hips lifted to glide you up and down his shaft. "Shit - this is what fucking is. A duty to a marriage, yes," he agreed against your lips, pressing a searing kiss there after, "but a primal pleasure few come to understand and enjoy."

"Th-This is how it should be?" You wondered, instantly hating the Queen Mother for breaking your engagement and robbing you of experiencing this feeling for years.

"Yes, dove," he groaned, both arms wrapped around you as a sheen of sweat broke out across your skin. "This is what it will be like everyday for us," he grinned, eyes locked with yours as he kept you bouncing in his lap; well-aware of the strain to your thighs, "because a husband's first duty is to his wife, ensuring her pleasure outshines his."

You whimpered.

"You close, love?" he muttered, feeling your tempo turn desperate, and groaned. "Fucking use me, that's right, my love, go ahead - ah! Shit!" He hissed, planting his feet to meet your thrusts now; fucking up into you, and making your mind stutter to a halt. The feeling and sound of his balls slapping against the wetness of your cunt was enough to fill a brothel; making you feel like Daemon's prized whore.

"D-Daemon," you begged, unsure of what you wanted; but he understood none the less.

"C'mere, I'm here," he promised; resting your forehead to his. "That's it, my sweet, yes, yes," his thumb dropped to your clit, "just fuck yourself on me, I've got you. Shit," he huffed, "all of this beauty, this wet, tight little cunt wasted on that fucker - waste of a man - fuck!"

"Tell me what you're going to do, Daemon," you moaned in his ear, feeling your climax approach rapidly. "Tell me how you're going to make me yours."

Daemon all but bared his teeth, "First, I'll kill that fat-fuck of a husband you have. He's all that's in our way, dove."

"Shit," you nodded, bracing your hands against anything you could reach; trying to ignore how the thrill of his warmed blood from his cut hand sent ripples of pleasure straight to your core. It felt wrong, but so fucking right since it was Daemon's blood on you - the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. "Keep going," you moaned, "tell me, my Prince, what you'll do."

He held your face to his, grinning, "You were never not mine, dove. But I will kill him first, then take you to Dragonstone, and make you my wife. Long overdue, my love, for you should've been mine this whole time."

"And now?"

"I'll never let you go," he grit his teeth, thrusting faster when your whimpering echoed around the chamber. When you came, your eyes screwed tight and your mouth latched to his shoulder to muffle the way you cried almost anomalistically. "Yes, yes, yes," he praised, milking you for all you had, before allowing his own pleasure to take hold; hips stuttering to eventually pause against yours as he bottomed out, spilling his seed deep in your womb.

And now, the only thing heard was the two of you panting; room much darker as a few candles had finally burned out. Daemon held you close, not wanting to let go now that he had achieved what he had considered 'impossible'. Your throat contracted as your swallowed, his eyes soft as they gazed over you, prompting your whisper, "Everyday of that, you said?"

He chuckled through his nose, nodding a bit, "Multiple times a day if you wanted."

"Oh," you bit your bottom lip, eyes scanning over him in haste. "That sounds most enjoyable. But where would we live?"

He smirked, "Wherever we desired. I'd take you anywhere, my Princess."

"Even Essos?" You smirked in a small tease.

"Anywhere, my dove," he reiterated, "so long as I am at your side."

"I don't want you anywhere else," you admitted in a whisper, still sat on his lap as his cum was plugged only by his softening cock that still kept you feeling full and stretched. Your eyes blinked back tears, turning so he would not notice, and laying against him, "Would you stay with me tonight, my Prince?"

He smirked, "What would your husband think? To find me in his marriage bed?"

"That it's just practice," you whispered in a gentle tease, slowly lifting to find his gaze.

His brows furrowed when you did not speak, asking, "Love? What is it?"

"Daemon... I fear I must ask you of the impossible..."

"Name it, sweet Lady," he purred, leaning forward to pepper a few kisses to your neck.

It was quiet, your lips moving only above a whisper at his ear, "Kill my husband for me, make me your bride after."

Daemon's hips shifted, groaning a low, "Fuck."

"Hmm?" You hummed, face hovering over his; his eyes scanning you up and down.

His bottom lip was trapped and released by his teeth, answering, "Think I just got hard again. That was music to my ears, dove."

"Promise me you will not make it conspicuous. I could not bare it if anyone suspected you, or foul play. Though I have never been openly fond of my husband, I do not want to see you suffer for his passing as I will have to play the part of mournful widow."

He huffed, "How long after can I wed you?"

Your shoulder shrugged, "When my Prince wants to."

"I'd take you now," he swore, shaking his head lightly. "Though, I respect you too much to let such gossip at court take place." He sighed, "Fine... Yes, all right," he sniffled, "I'll do away with him, my dove, and in six months, ask for your hand. Hmm?"

"Think you can wait six whole months?" You teased lightly, palm pressed to his cheek; thumb petting over his smiling lips.

"So long as you play widow well, and keep other suitors at bay," he joked, cocking his head, "then I do not have to wait six months to have you - just to marry you."

Your head shook lightly, snickering under your breath. "You'd do well not to sire your heir yet, as it would bring trouble before we need it."

"I'll have the Maester bring you tea," he sighed lightly. "But when we are married, you're not to take the tea again, my love."

"The moment we marry, it will be done away with," you promised in a whisper, leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss. When you pulled back, Daemon was content to just stare down at you; making you humm lightly, "Well, tomorrow fast approaches and I need sleep, my Prince."

Daemon nodded and just stared at you for a moment longer before sighing heavily, "Off to bed, then. Where does your husband sleep?"

"In a different wing so I do not hear him fucking his whores," you answered, wincing when Daemon helped you stand on shaking legs.

When on your feet before him, you gasped as his hand shot out to slither under your fallen skirts, scrape up your thigh to gather his cum that had dripped out before shoving up into your cunt. "Keep that there," he whispered, kissing your navel before standing and withdrawing his fingers. "And perhaps we should be grateful for his sleeping arrangements tonight."

"Oh?"

"He won't have to listen to me fuck his wife... Yet," Daemon smirked, hands all along your body as you moved from the Throne Room - knowing the next round of servants was sure to be up in a couple hours and not wanting to leave any traces, nor be caught. "We'll let him enjoy his last night on this earth, for tomorrow, my dove, you will be a single Lady."

With a small shudder, your head nodded before his hand caught your own and laced together as a gentle and simple sign of affection. "You would make it quick, right?" You wondered, keeping up with his longer strides; chin pressed to his bicep as you leisurely walked the castle's halls, starting towards your bed chambers.

But Daemon scoffed, "Oh, my dove, no, not after what I've learned tonight. No, he will suffer, and he will know why he suffered. The atrocities committed against you will not go unpunished."

Shock colored your system, nearly gaping at him like a gawking child. "You cannot - "

"I can," he assured with a firm nod, giving your hand a squeeze, "and I will, for he has acted with dishonor and that is intolerable. Now," he pulled you to your chamber door, looking up and down the hall, "which maids do you think will find us first? Or hear us?"

Your eyes rolled as you gently smacked the back of your hand to his chest, "You act as if we will fuck all night."

"Why would we not?"

"You need rest to keep your wits about you - especially for tomorrow," you alluded, his eyes softening. "There is too much at stake, we cannot afford any mishaps."

"Hmm, all right," he relented, watching you open your door. He sighed lightly, "This will have to change - your quarters should be with mine."

"Not separate?" You asked gently, watching him crowd into the room. The door shut firmly under his hand, eyes staring straight into you.

"As my wife, you would not be far from me, as I would not want you to be," he purred, slowly stalking forward. When he reached you, his hands physically held you in place while his gaze held you hostage, assuring, "You would not go a single night without the warmth of my body. I would do it all differently with you, my dove... Let me show you that I should've been your husband the first time."

Your head nodded, guiding his lips to yours in a frantic kiss; never truly registering what you had asked of him, nor what this might entail for the future. But you were damn sure - with Daemon, anything could've been handled. Though all that stood in the way now was faking the accidental death of your husband, publicly mourn him, wait a period of time, and then announce your engagement to the Prince - which sounds easy enough, right?

... Right?

part two: High Noon

Midnight Calls masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon smut #daemon hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd smut

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damiansgoodgirll · 9 months

Note

can you please write a really really sad story where you were dating seth rollins when he was still on shield but the. becky joins and he cheats on you with her please ❤️

i love becky so so so so so much, i’m feeling so guilty for making her the bad guy here :(

seth rollins x reader

tw : angst, cheating

traitor

you knew something was off the moment your boyfriend started skipping your usual movie nights or your friday afternoon training together.

he claimed he was too tired or too busy but you knew he was hiding something, you just couldn’t picture what.

you and seth had been dating for almost a decade, you were there through his in and out of the shield, you were there when he turned his back on seth and roman, you were there when he shared his last hug with roman before he retired to treat his cancer and you were there when seth wasn’t fully understanding the reason his best friend dean ambrose left wwe.

you were there for him, always.

he was the first person you met when you joined wwe, only 18 at the time but with so much energy to learn and be better.

he started training you, teaching you new moves and new tricks and you couldn’t be more grateful. but something bloomed out from that friendship, something that was more than friendship.

he asked you on a date. and one date turned into a second date and a second date turned into movie nights together at his place, falling asleep on his couch, him making love to you, showing you how much he loved you and how grateful he was that you were in his life.

he made you feel safe and protected, and it’s been going on for almost ten years so you couldn’t understand why he was distancing himself from you.

you saw him getting closer to becky lynch, one of your best friend. you simply thought he was training her, the same way he did to you and the same way he did with so many other wrestlers but you saw him spending more and more time with her and completely avoiding you.

“seth…can we talk?” you asked him one night, while you were both laying in bed.

“sure” he turned his face to you.

“is everything okay?”

“of course, what you mean?” he asked. he knew what you meant. he knew you weren’t stupid and he knew you were going to find out.

“i mean…is everything okay? you know if there’s something that’s bothering you, you can always talk to me…i’ve seen you’ve been avoiding me more and more these past days and if i did something to make you mad i’m so sorry…” you apologised and seth felt his heart breaking a little more.

you were apologising for his cheating.

“i promise you love, you didn’t do anything to make you mad” it pained him to lie to you “i’m not mad at you, i promise you…i’ve just been training more these days and i’m always too tired” he laughed “i promise i’ll be more present from now on” he scooped you closer into his embrace and even if his words were supposed to comfort you, you felt something was off, you felt he was lying.

and you were right.

of course you were.

you weren’t supposed to hit the gym that day but the receptionist called you to tell you that a few days prior you forgot some of your clothes in the changing room and that she put them aside for you.

parking in your usual spot you noticed becky’s car was there and your boyfriend’s car was there too. you found it weird seeing seth car there as he told you that he was at finn’s home to help him train.

the moment you stepped into the gym you knew the receptionist didn’t call you only for your clothes, she wanted you to know the truth, she wanted you too see what was going on.

becky’s arms around seth chest as she was kissing his shoulders while he was lifting some weights. he couldn’t stop smiling and you felt so stupid for even believe everything was fine. he saw your reflection in the mirror and before he could say anything you were out of the gym, reaching for your car and driving way too fast for everyone’s liking.

you couldn’t stop the tears falling from your eyes and you knew you couldn’t face seth so instead of going straight home you booked a room in your favorite hotel in town.

he called you but you never answered. he texted you but you left him on read. you were so mad and disappointed you couldn’t even face him.

your friend rhea knew something was wrong the moment you didn’t show up at your girls night together. she tried to contact you but you wouldn’t reply, not even to her. liv called you, shayna texted you so many times your phone was probably going to explode.

seth knew where you were but he knew that if he came to see you it would only ended up with blood on his face so he preferred letting things calm down.

it was the morning after, when you stepped into the wwe headquarters that you saw him. you looked like shit, you were wearing the same clothes of the day before, your eyes all red and you looked tired, almost as if you didn’t sleep at all.

“can we please talk?” seth followed you when you were going into your own office but he stopped you before you could go in.

“i’m not really in the mood…”

“please…” he begged and you turned around “i’m so sorry…i should have told you and…”

“should have told me what? that you were cheating? that my boyfriend, the one i’ve been dating for the past years has been cheating with one of my best friends? that you aren’t even ashamed about it? i really don’t wanna hear it seth…” you said almost screaming, a few heads turning around but you didn’t care.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” he said again.

“i don’t care if you’re sorry! you should have told me! you should have told me that you weren’t in love anymore instead of cheating on me! i deserved to know, i deserved to know the truth…instead you preferred lying…” you kept saying, you didn’t care if you were crying.

“i know…i know i fucked up” he was hurting seeing you like that. you were a good person, you always stayed by his side, you were loyal and caring and you didn’t deserve this, he knew that, but at the same time he couldn’t stop what he was feeling for becky.

“you fucked up? fucking my best friend, cheating behind my back, lying and making me feel like it was my fault and all you have to say is that you fucked up? i want you out of my home seth, i want you out of my life…i want you and becky out of everything, i can’t even look at you without crying…why did you do it?” you asked him.

“i - i don’t have an excuse…i know, i shouldn’t have done it…i should have talked to you” he said wiping his tears away.

“i’ve asked you so many times, i’ve asked you so many times if everything was okay, if everything was good and you kept saying yes, that i shouldn’t worry…for how long?” you asked him, knowing that the actual answer might broke you.

“five months…” he said.

five months.

two months ago was your anniversary. he was already fucking her in the same moment he was fucking you. he was telling her how much he loved her the same moment he was telling it to you.

“oh god…” you whispered, thinking about everything that happened in the past five months. you even brought up the idea of starting a family with him, you were talking about getting married and he was fucking your best friend behind your back.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” he apologised.

“leave…please, leave, i don’t wanna see you ever again…i think i’ll take a break from wrestling, i can’t even stand in the same room as you and becky without wanting to rip your heads off…” you said before turning back and going into your office.

he stood there for a few minutes, watching the plain white door that was in front of him.

before leaving he was met with the angry look on rhea’s face.

“don’t say anything please…” he said.

“you and becky disgust me…” she said before checking up on you.

you let her in and, knowing she heard everything about your and seth’s conversation, you knew you couldn’t lie to her and you spilled everything and she let you cry over her shoulder, helping you calming you down and comforting you, because all you needed in that moment was to feel affection.

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exitrowiron · 6 months

Text

The Death of My Mother

After a years-long courageous battle with breast cancer, my mother died on October 11, 2023 with my sister Lori and I holding her hands and my wife Beth by her side. She was 83 years old.

Over 20 years ago a cancerous lump was discovered and removed, followed by radiation. All seemed well for over a decade as she and my dad enjoyed a very active retirement. A few years ago, the cancer was detected again and the mastectomy came too late to contain it.

She endured years of chemotherapy, proceeding to a new drug therapy as soon as old one ended. Despite the unexpected death of my father nearly two years ago, she doggedly continued her treatment. Because she’d been athletic all her life, she tolerated more chemotherapy than her oncologist could remember giving anyone else. It wasn’t enough.

She was determined not to let her life be dominated by her cancer; she continued to travel, paint, sew and entertain friends. She was assisted by my sister and uncle, both of whom lived in the same town as her; making sure she was safe and accompanying her to doctor visits, chemo treatments, etc.

Despite the rigors of chemotherapy, you’d not have suspected her condition if you saw her in the grocery store. She lost weight, but with her wig and bubbly personality, she looked well, better in fact than most of her peers. She often went to the gym immediately after receiving an infusion, knowing she’d be too weak to do so in a day or two. Ultimately the breast cancer continued to spread, causing fluid to gather around a lung and ultimately metastasizing into a painful, inflamed cancer on her skin.

In August she was struggling with the latest chemotherapy, having to suspend/postpone rounds until her anemia and overall strength could improve. The regimen was simply too taxing, and she was considering stopping treatment, despite the consequences of this decision. Then she had her first fall. In the middle of the night on the way back to her bed from the bathroom, she lost her balance and fell, cutting a large gash in her nose on the way to floor. She made it back to her bed and waited a few hours before finally calling my sister for assistance. She wasn’t wearing the Apple Watch we’d purchased for her explicitly for this purpose after my father’s death.

The fall was unnerving for her (and all of us), but my sister installed motion-detector night lights and we reminded her to wear her Apple Watch. Despite the fall, she did well living independently, continuing to drive, etc. I offered to visit and spend a few nights with her, but my son’s wedding was approaching and she declined my offer. She did, however, remind me of her wish to never go to a nursing home; she had sufficient savings to afford in-home care when the time came.

Although she didn’t resume treatment after the fall, her condition stabilized and she seemed to be gathering strength. Even the fluid around her lung, which had caused a troublesome cough and required drainage every so often was improving. Reluctant to make any concessions to her illness, she was forced to cancel the cruise she’d planned to take with Beth, me and a friend after Brady’s wedding.

When our son Brady contracted Covid a week before his wedding, she wisely decided not to attend the wedding as well. The trip from Indiana to Maine would have been too difficult even with my sister’s help, and the risk of Covid gave her an acceptable excuse to cancel.

In the early morning hours of September 13, however, Mom felt very dizzy and generally unwell so she reached out to neighbors for help (Lori was out of town). An ambulance was called and she was taken to the hospital where she was diagnosed with A-Fib and extreme covid. (A-Fib is one of the symptoms of the new Covid variant). Again, she wasn’t wearing her Apple Watch. We were sad that Mom had been infected with Covid, but relieved that she’d not gotten it from attending Brady’s wedding. (Actually, no one got sick from Brady’s wedding.)

Her blood work in the hospital was terrible, but again she rallied (with the help of Prednisone) and she was much improved by the time I took her home on Sunday, just 5 days after she was admitted. I stayed at the house and helped her for two weeks. During this time, she was weak but still able to care for herself with some assistance from me (preparing meals, cleaning the house, laundry, driving, etc.). She was well enough to resume her lifelong habit of creating a daily to-do list each morning on a yellow legal pad. Visits to her doctor (including a CT scan with contrast) gave her hope. She was diagnosed with pericarditis (fluid around the heart) as a result of Covid, but cancer activity was nominal. The cancer was still present but it wasn’t aggressively spreading. She was given hopeful instructions to concentrate on recovering from Covid.

Her list of medications continued to grow in number and dosing complexity. I made a spreadsheet to keep it straight. Xanax was added to the mix to help ease her growing anxiety. In the middle of the night, she would wake in fear that she was having trouble breathing (but her blood O2 was still good). All this was manageable, but she wasn’t eating so she continued to lose weight and when the prednisone course ended, she began to get weaker.

I can’t cook but I did my best to prepare or purchase simple comfort food. No matter how absent her appetite she could always to be tempted into eating a Wendy’s frosty or DQ milkshake. She spent more and more time each day sleeping, in between bouts of fretting over how much she was sleeping. Ever the athlete, she insisted on walking laps inside the house and down the street in an effort to exercise herself to good health. She simply refused to accept this decline as inevitable and irreversible. Finally, one of her trusted doctors had to advise her to concentrate on rest and postpone the training sessions for a few weeks.

Just a few weeks earlier, Holley, her beloved sister-in-law had a large tumor removed from her colon and was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. Holley’s condition had worsened quickly and as a result Mom's brother, a retired orthopedic surgeon, was understandably preoccupied with his wife’s condition. Holley was admitted to a hospital and rallied briefly before going to hospice. Holley passed away after just a few days in hospice but with my help Mom was able to visit her three times.

I’d been in Evansville for two weeks when Holley died; this was a week longer than I’d expected and I’d run out of contacts lenses and didn’t have appropriate clothing for my aunt’s funeral. Meanwhile, Mom continued to weaken, sleeping more and eating still less. She needed a caregiver in the house 24x7 so my sister and I began contacting agencies and secured caregivers before my departure.

I was at our home in Washington for just 2 days before returning with Beth and clothes for Holley’s funeral and the expectation that we would be back home in a week. We flew into St. Louis and rented a car to drive to Evansville, planning to attend the funeral and then return to St. Louis to spend time with her parents for a few days before departing. With the in-home caregiver situation largely resolved for Mom, I assumed her condition would stabilize for a while.

Beth and I had a hotel, but all that week I was at the house with Mom during the day before leaving when the nighttime caregiver arrived. Holley’s funeral was on Tuesday but Mom was too weak to attend. That same day she requested a walker. There was no doubt she needed one, but her requesting it was a psychological concession on her part. We secured the walker that day and that night she insisted that I help her walk three laps inside the house, “to help her get better”.

On Wednesday, a home oxygen concentrator was delivered. The oxygen machine was mostly for psychological support – knowing it was there if she needed it (and she rarely needed it). By this time it was obvious that Mom’s condition wasn’t going to plateau and that despite her preference, she needed care in a professional healthcare setting. I’d broached this subject with Mom earlier in the week and she’d resisted. Through tears she said, “Going to someplace like that is a slippery slope and I don’t want to get on the slippery slope.” She still refused to acknowledge the inevitability of her situation. I gently responded, “Mom, you’re on the slippery slope. I’m concerned that if you stay in the house, something might happen, you could fall for instance, and we wouldn’t be able to get you up and you won’t be able to recover.”

Evansville is a relatively small city and staffing 24X7 caregivers couldn’t be done with a single agency. My sister cobbled together a network of caregivers that friends in similar situations had used but Mom’s needs were increasing beyond even this network. I reminded Mom that we’d spend any amount of money to keep her in her house, but we were running into limitations we couldn’t overcome.

Her brother set aside his grief over the death of this own wife and visited Mom on Wednesday. At our request he encouraged her to go to Primrose. Primrose is an assisted living facility which their friends had used and it had a good reputation. Mom reluctantly agreed to go. Lori and I had toured Primrose that day and provided a deposit in the hope we could secure a room immediately, pending their evaluation of Mom’s needs. Even if accepted at Primrose, however, we would still need to provide 24x7 caregivers to be in Mom’s room at all times. In deference to Mom however, we pursued this option rather than a skilled nursing facility.

By Thursday we’d secured a wheelchair as she could no longer use the walker safely. She was sleeping practically all day, eating almost nothing, and required assistance to stand.

By Friday she couldn’t get out of chair or stand on her own. I had to do most of the work with a lifting strap. Unfortunately, the Primrose evaluation was scheduled for the following Tuesday. Beth and I were supposed to drive to St. Louis to return the rental car before flying home on Saturday, but it was obvious I couldn’t leave. I borrowed a car from my sister, followed Beth to St. Louis to return the rental car before driving back to Evansville on Saturday.

When we returned on Saturday Mom had declined still further, awake but too weak to talk or open her eyes or eat or toilet. It was clear that Mom needed to go to hospice, the same hospice used by her sister-in-law just a week earlier. We let her sleep that afternoon and when the ambulance arrived around 5, I had to wake her and tell her that we were taking her to Deaconess. This was intentionally misleading but accurate. Deaconess is the health system that runs the hospital she’d used as well as the hospice. I said we need to go to Deaconess because she needed more care than we could provide in order for her to get better. She resisted by saying, “But why, I’m just sleeping?” This was a difficult conversation, but I was insistent and patient and eventually she allowed me to lift her out of her chair, help her onto the gurney and ride with her in the ambulance to the hospice center.

Fortunately, Mom was too weak to open her eyes so she didn’t realize she was being wheeled into the hospice center, into a room identical to Holley’s (the suite next door actually). It was clear that we couldn’t have waited any longer to move Mom to hospice. She immediately required a catheter and her bladder had obviously been full and uncomfortable.

The Linda White hospice center is a beautiful new facility attached to a Deaconess hospital. Each suite has a large sitting area for family/guests and an attached bedroom with two twin beds. The hospice administers medication, moves and toilets the patient but other than that they only come when alerted with a call button. Mom was frequently conscious but rarely opened her eyes and couldn’t use the call button. Lori, Beth or I were with Mom from 8 am to 11 pm each day and then one of our outside caregivers stayed with Mom overnight.

The first evening was difficult. Weeks of opioid painkillers left her painfully constipated. She refused to use a bedpan so I lifted her onto a bedside chair/toilet. This was unsuccessful so we returned her to bed, the nurse administered a suppository and an hour later we repeated the process, this time with some success. I’ve never provided such hands-on care to an adult. It was humbling for everyone. My mom was such a proud woman, always careful in her appearance and to see her stripped of all of this, practically naked and utterly helpless as I lifted her off the bed was sobering. I only cared for my mother for a few days/weeks and always had lots of paid assistance as well as the help of my sister – I can’t begin to imagine the strength and patience of those who care for their parents full time for an extended period.

On Sunday, the swelling of my Mom’s feet which had begun a few days earlier grew much worse. The nurse informed us that this was significant a development and indicated that Mom was experiencing congestive heart failure. Mom remained marginally responsive though with her eyes closed and she was able to minimally engage with the friends who came to visit her.

Mom continued to generally deny the reality of her situation and in order to avoid upsetting her, we placed this message on the door to her suite:

Mom did make one concession to her condition, however, she asked to be visited by her parish priest. We left the room when he visited to pray, hear her confession, and deliver the last rites.

By Monday morning Mom was barely able to swallow her oral medications and we accepted the nurse’s recommendation to begin administering comfort medication (morphine, etc.) intravenously using the port which had been previously used for chemotherapy.

Mom’s condition continued to deteriorate; she stopped eating completely and drank very little. Answers to yes or no questions were difficult. Monday and Tuesday were spent in quiet vigil, interrupted only by the occasional visitor. Mom couldn’t respond but was likely conscious at least occasionally. In what I believed was a moment of lucidity, I told her I loved her and that she’d been a great mom and done well with her life. This would have a been a good conversation to have a few weeks ago or even a few days ago, but she was never willing to accept her impending death. I took occasional breaks to get a meal or workout, confident that my sister would alert me of any changes. As Mom continued to sleep, I started and completed her obituary as well as the slide show to be shown during the visitation at the funeral home.

Lori and I chose to spend the night with her Tuesday night, sleeping in shifts. I was surprised she was still with us on Wednesday morning when Beth arrived and thought (feared) she might linger in this condition for a few days. Beth and I had just left her room on our way to the hotel to shower and change clothes when we heard the tech nurse call urgently. We quickly returned to Mom’s room and the charge nurse informed us, “It is happening now.” Lori had also stepped out of the room briefly and Beth went to retrieve her. It was obvious that Mom was dying at that moment and that she somehow timed it for the only moment in the past 48 hours in which both Lori and I had been out of the room. Lori and I each held one of Mom’s hands. We could see that she’d stopped breathing, but I could still feel Mom’s pulse in her hand. Lori and I spoke to Mom, telling her we loved her, reassuring her that her family was fine and congratulating her on a life well lived. Her pulse continued for 30 seconds until it weakened and stopped. The color had drained from her face and she was gone.

After a few more minutes of farewells and hugs amongst ourselves, we tidied the room and left with the pictures, flowers, and mementos we’d brought in an effort to make her comfortable. We headed to my sister’s home where I poured myself a large whiskey and offered the first of many toasts I will make to the memory of my wonderful mother.

I left home as a freshman in college and except for the summer break before my sophomore year, never again lived at home (or in the same city as my parents) for more than a few days. Married at 23, Beth and I lived in St. Louis, Dallas, Minneapolis, Bellevue and now a small town in the Cascades in Washington state. My mom always hoped we’d move to Evansville and occasionally I felt guilty for not spending more time with my parents, but it was best for me personally and professionally as well as my marriage that we never lived closer than a few hours away and usually much further than that.

Despite this long physical absence (or perhaps because of it), we were always on good terms and avoided much of the drama that can ensnare parent/adult child relationships. I’m at peace knowing that when my mom needed support and a caregiver, I stepped up and fulfilled my obligation. I did the right thing and have no regrets.

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pocketramblr · 5 months

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AU with bio dad all might where Inko dies during child birth and because of how busy he is in hunting down AFO, along with the safety concerns. All Might gives temporary custody of Izuku to Gran.

1- Toshinori is crushed. He might have been able to suggest Inko take Izuku and hide, but he can't stand to send their baby away alone with nothing, no way of knowing if it's actually safer, nada. Gran thought he might, but when he enters the room and sees how Toshinori is holding the newborn, he knows he won't. Toshinori kisses Izuku's forehead and says he's going to be staying with his grandfather for a bit, but his dad will be back as soon as he can.

2- Toshinori doesn't visit. He didn't go to Gran's house before, not since the day after graduation when he left for the airport, and he won't do it now that AfO could be watching. But he does call. Izuku knows the sound of his father's voice over the phone, knows Gran calls him 'Toshinori', knows there is something he has to do before he can return. When he's little, he imagines a hero, then an astronaut, then a vigilante, then an important businessman, then a researcher. His dad doesn't talk much about his job, always sounds so tired by it, always so eager to hear about his days instead, or maybe tell him about his mom.

3- After the potato smashing, Gran leaves Izuku in the care of a neighbor (she delivers groceries when he's too tired to walk and get some, and her son's a hero Izuku adores, he'll be safe with both of them for a couple hours) and goes to the hospital as Sir and Toshi argue about retirement. He reminds Toshinori that the custody was supposed to be temporary. Sir asks what he's talking about and gets kicked out of the ward. "You weren't arguing back about it as strongly as I thought you would. You lose your stubbornness too?" Gran asks. Toshi sighs, leans his head against the wall, and admits that he wants so badly to go to Gran's, grab Izuku, and vanish for a decade, make up for lost time. But he can't give up on saving people. But he wants so badly to have his family, its all that's been pushing him through years of twenty hour workdays. But people could die, would die, if he did that.

Gran hums, and says Izuku'll be so thrilled to finally see his dad in person. Almost as excited as he'll be to find out his dad is All Might.

Then he hands Toshinori two tickets to I-island, and leaves for his own vacation. (being a single parent is hard)

4- Toshi meets Izuku, and explains on the plane who he is and why he was gone for years- a very brief overview of it, anyway. Izuku keeps pinching himself. Toshi cries in David's arms for a while. Izuku and Melissa hit it off. Izuku asks if he can be a quirkless hero, and Toshi, getting David's pointed looks, says maybe, but he'll have to practice a lot. It really is like a dream, and when its time to go back, Izuku almost asks if they can stay- instead he says 'come back' and Toshi agrees they'll visit, wonders if Izuku will want to attend the academy there for high school, but Izuku wants to be a hero. On their return, Toshi, Gran, and Izuku have to resettle awkwardly around each other, but manage. Toshi brought back support equipment Dave made him, similar to what helped him in college manage his power. He cuts back on hours too, and the HPSC assumes its all because of his injuries.

5- While the rule has been changed to allow it for a couple of years, Izuku is the first quirkless student admitted to the UA Hero Course. No one else from his middle school got in, so its all alone and making new friends, but he manages. He's exited. His dad and grandpa are exited.

Then, during lunch a few days into the school year, Izuku gets a call. It's weird in the middle of the day, but he picks up- "Hey dad, what's up?"

It is not his father's voice that responds. "Huh, 'dad'?"

Izuku freezes, unsure who this scratchy, younger voice could be. Uraraka asks him if he's ok. He hangs up, breathing faster, and calls Gran. - "Someone got dad's phone and i answered and-" / "Hold on kid, let me see if he just forgot it at his desk and- shit there's been a break in at the tower. Izuku, go to Nedzu's office right now and stay there. One of us will call him, don't answer your phone to anyone. Go."

#pocket talks to people #anon #ask game

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collapsedsquid · 1 year

Text

Great Salt Lake’s death and the death of the lives she sustains could become our death, too. The dry lake bed now exposed to the wind is laden with toxic elements, accumulated in the lake over decades. On any given day, dust devils are whipping up a storm in these hot spots, blowing mercury- and arsenic-laced winds through the Wasatch Front, where 2.6 million people dwell, with Salt Lake City at its center. Arsenic levels in the lake bed are already far higher than the Environmental Protection Agency’s recommendation for safety. And with the state’s population projected to increase to 5.5 million people by 2060, the urgency to reverse the lake’s retreat will only grow.

Yet I do not believe Utahns have fully grasped the magnitude of what we are facing. We could be forced to leave.

[...]

Scientists tell us the lake needs an additional one million acre-feet per year to reverse its decline, increasing average stream flow to about 2.5 million acre-feet per year. A gradual refilling would begin. Two-thirds of the natural flow going into the lake is currently being diverted: 80 percent of that diversion by agriculture, 10 percent by industries and 10 percent by municipalities. Water conservation provides a map for how to live within our means. We can create water banks and budgets where we know how much water we have and how much water we spend. Public and private green turf can be retired. State and federal agencies must turn toward Indigenous leaders for traditional knowledge about watershed restoration and conservation.

Piece predicting a full on 2nd dust bowl here

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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AITA for keeping a huge secret from my mom?

so i (26ftm) moved back in with my parents a little over a year ago due to the housing market. shakes fist at sky. you know how it is. anyways, uh, while i may be a broke zillennial, my parents are fairly financially well off, and it's in part due to my father's job. my mom recently retired and my father keeps saying he's going to retire, but still keeps pushing it off (and has been pushing it off for about a decade now).

now uh, shortly before i moved in, my mom was telling me that she was having problems with my father. that this was "the third time this had happened" and "this is his last chance" - i think you may see where i'm going with this. he was cheating. for the third time. and she'd caught him, got them to go to couples therapy, and told him there would be no fourth chance. she was willing to move out of the house and start anew somewhere else if she needed to.

um. enter me, the apple of my dad's eye. i move in. one night my mom is off at a book club so it's just me and him for dinner. he opens his phone (up til this point i've noticed he looks at his phone A Lot.) and opens up wechat. he's calling someone "babe" and sending them red heart emojis. i instantly feel kind of sick. i ask him, "are you texting mom?" and he gets SO confused for a second and says no (i don't think he knew i'd seen his phone screen).

that was almost a year ago today. since then i have seen him text this other woman nonstop, has talked about starting a family with her, has talked about taking her with him on his "work trips," and - for some reason - i've seen him google straight-up escort websites on his phone. uh, that one was while my mom and i were in the middle of showing him old family videos.

i feel so fucking guilty. every time i see him i want to [REDACTED DUE TO TUMBLR GUIDELINES]. i lost my therapist that i had known for five years in the move, i lost my entire support network, and i still haven't found anything like that up here. i am completely isolated, and while i have my own job right now, i am in no way financially stable enough to find my own place to live. if i tell my mom, i don't know what's going to happen to me. i don't know if she will kick him out or if she will move. i am trying to move back to where i was living, but i just can't afford it. i feel completely trapped in this situation, and i know what the right thing to do is, but i am terrified that on top of losing my entire life a year ago, i'm about to lose everything else, too.

a large part of me wants to confront my father first, but i am also terrified of him. i know i'm his favorite, but i am well aware of his temper, and while he's never physically harmed me, i feel like the situation might be a bit different if i'm the person that might get him divorced and ostracized from the entire family. i don't know. i honestly have no idea. everything is so confusing and i just have felt frozen for an entire year.

but the other night i saw him texting her again. she's mentioned she had been feeling sick lately and he told her that she might be pregnant. i was so close to losing it. i almost ripped his phone out of his hand and smashed it on the ground. i couldn't look him in the eye. i could barely even speak to him. maybe the funniest part about this is that he doesn't realize anything is wrong. he's a fucking narcissist and doesn't pay the slightest bit of attention to how other people act around him.

the next day, he was gone for another "work trip".

i am run completely ragged and i don't know how much longer i can take this. i find myself wishing someone else could take it out of my hands so that i don't have to be responsible for destroying our whole family.

anyways. am i the asshole for being a coward?

a bit of extra INFO as well though: as far as i'm aware, my parents are in a bit of a dead bedroom situation (frankly. my mom likes to oversshare.) so uh. at the very least i know she's not getting whatever diseases my dad surely must have by now.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ghostflowerdreams · 10 months

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Audio Drama Recommendations, Pt. II

For part one, click here. I went on another audio drama binge and I found some that were pretty fun to listen to. I usually tend to go after the ones that are completed because the longer the wait, the more likely I will forget the details, but this time I just went for anything that caught my attention. This also isn’t in any particular order.

The Magnus Archives – is a horror fiction anthology podcast written by Jonathan Sims, directed by Alexander J. Newall, and distributed by Rusty Quill.

The new Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Jonathan Sims, attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of people’s testimonials of their encounters with the supernatural up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. [COMPLETED]

It has five seasons, each 40 episodes long, as well as additional content such as Q&As, non-canon fan-submitted statements and one-off episodes that tie in with Rusty Quill's other podcasts.

It does start out slow and maybe at some point you’ll be wondering where is this going and what does some of these episodes have to do with the overall story, but it does all eventually connect. Your patience will pay off because once the build-up is done it picks up and things get really interesting!

Unwell – is a horror podcast starring Clarisa Cherie Rios and produced by Hartlife NFP.

The story follows Lillian Harper who has returned home to Mt. Absalom, Ohio to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town's boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house's strange assortment of residents. [ONGOING]

This audio drama has five seasons which runs for 12 episodes. It currently has 54 episodes in total and each one is about 20-30 minutes long. New episodes are released fortnightly (biweekly) on Wednesdays. They take a mid-season break between episodes 6 and 7.

Bridgewater – is a supernatural thriller audio drama produced by Grim & Mild and by iHeartRadio, created by Aaron Mahnke and written/directed by Lauren Shippen.

Folklore professor Jeremy Bradshaw is pulled into the mysterious 1980 disappearance of his police officer father, Thomas, by new evidence that threatens to upend decades of certainty. Along the way, he’s helped by some unlikely partners who challenge everything he believes in, and ultimately tries to answer the question: can the past actually be rewritten?

Together with his father’s former partner, retired Detective Anne Becker, Jeremy must chase the clues that will tell him whether his father really did fall victim to a Satanic cult in the Bridgewater Triangle—or something much more dark and unexplainable. [ONGOING]

It has two seasons, the first consist of 10 episodes and the second has 12 episodes. Each one runs about 20-30 minutes long. Season three was put on hold when there was news of a possible television series. However, that fell through and by then everyone was working on other projects. So a season three, well, that’s pretty much up in the air.

It stars Misha Collins (Supernatural), Melissa Ponzio (Teen Wolf), Nathan Fillion (Firefly, The Rookie), Karan Soni (Deadpool), Kristin Bauer (True Blood), Hilarie Burton Morgan (The Walking Dead, One Tree Hill), Wil Wheaton (Star Trek: The Next Generation), Jonathan Joss (The Magnificent Seven, Parks and Rec) and Lori Alan (Spongebob Squarepants, Family Guy).

The Lovecraft Investigations -- is a mystery thriller/horror fiction podcast written and directed by Julian Simpson, based on several works of H.P. Lovecraft. It’s produced by Sweet Talk Productions for BBC Radio 4. It concluded with three seasons and each episode is about 25-30 minutes long. There might be a fourth season in the works, but even if there isn’t the series is considered to be finished.

The first season starts off with an investigation into the disappearance of a young man, Charles Dexter Ward from a locked room in an asylum. [COMPLETED]

It stars Barnaby Kay (Shakespeare in Love), Jana Carpenter (Doctor Who), Nicola Walker (MI-5, Unforgotten), Mark Bazeley (The Queen, The Bourne Ultimatum), Phoebe Fox (Eye in the Sky, The Woman in Black 2: Angel of Death), Steven Mackintosh (Rang De Basanti, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels), Samuel Barnett (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency, Penny Dreadful), Alun Armstrong (Sleepy Hollow, The Mummy Returns), Adam Godley (The Great, The Umbrella Academy), and so on.

Midnight Burger – is a monthly sci-fi audio drama about a diner at the end – and somehow the beginning – of the universe.

When Gloria took a waitressing job at Midnight Burger outside of Phoenix, she didn’t realize she was now an employee of a time-traveling, dimension-spanning diner. Every day Midnight Burger appears somewhere new in the cosmos along with its staff: a galactic drifter, a rogue theoretical physicist, a sentient old-timey radio, and some guy named Caspar.

No one knows who built Midnight Burger or how it works, but when it appears there's always someone around who could really use a cup of coffee. Come by any time, we open at six. [ONGOING]

The audio drama currently has three seasons and each episodes averages about 30 minutes to an hour or so.

Rex Rivetter: Private Eye – is a 1950s-style noir detective audio drama written by Greg McAfee, directed by Rhiannon McAfee, and produced in San Diego, CA by Downstairs Entertainment with editing and sound design by Steve Murdock. The Rex Rivetter theme “Nightmare” by the Artie Shaw Orchestra is used with permission of Music Sales Corp.

The year is 1955. Tinsel town. The land of make-believe. It's a time of growth in American prosperity. Especially in Los Angeles. Here, dreams are bought and sold.

But there's a seedier side to the City of Angels, the shadows where pimps and narcotics pushers live, where organized crime stands just around every corner with one hand out, and the other wrapped around a roscoe. It's a city full of fancy dames and slick cons, where bookies know the vig, so you better, too.

Some folks call it noir or pulp fiction. But for a private eye named Rex Rivetter, it's home. [ONGOING]

It has four seasons and each one runs about 20-30 minutes long. Due to the pandemic, it is still unknown if season five will ever come out and so far there hasn’t been any news about it either.

Mansfield Mysteries – is a satirical, cozy murder whodunit written by Amy Henson, directed by Nicholas Hoyt and produced by The QuaranTeam.

It follows the inquisitive, martini-loving socialite Dorinda Mansfield and is set in quiet, affluent Berkshire Bay. So far it only has one season, which contains nine hilarious episodes, each three-chapter story finds Dorinda wrapped up in a new murder. With the help of her devoted daughter, Stacey—as well as the occasional frenemy—Dorinda digs for clues, navigates Berkshire Bay’s elite social circles, and sifts through years’ worth of grudges and motives. In this company town, no one can be trusted, and everyone has something to hide.

Whether at the Labor Day Extravaganza, the Halloween Tennis Club Open, or secret karaoke night, Dorinda sets out to find the real killer before they get away with murder… Just as soon as she orders her martini! [COMPLETED]

If you’re looking for a bite-sized audio drama, this might be for you. It has three seasons (or chapters) and each one only takes three episodes to complete its tales, which is fun, amusing and will keep you entertained while you’re working on something or resting your eyes.

The Call of the Void – is an indie science fiction mystery audio drama created and written by Josie Eli Herman and Michael Alan Herman. It’s produced by Acorn Arts & Entertainment. It contains three seasons of 28 episodes and each one is about 25-30 minutes long with a cast of about 35 actors.

In the bustling streets of New Orleans, a tour guide and a palm-reading outcast team up to unravel the mystery behind cases of sudden insanity besetting the city. [COMPLETED]

Wolf 359 – is a science fiction audio drama created by Gabriel Urbina and produced by Gabriel Urbina and Zach Valenti under Kinda Evil Genius Productions. It consists of four seasons with 61 episodes in total and each one is about 25-40 minutes long.

It is set on board the U.S.S. Hephaestus space station orbiting the star Wolf 359 on a deep space survey mission. The dysfunctional crew deals with daily life-or-death emergencies, while searching for signs of alien life and discovering there might be more to their mission than they thought. [COMPLETED]

#audio #podcasts #audio drama #podcast #listen #audio dramas #the call of the void #wolf 359 #mansfield mysteries #midnight burger #the lovecraft investigations #the magnus archives #bridgewater podcast #unwell #unwell podcast #rex rivetter: private eye

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