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realcube · 26 days ago

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— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; after being blocked by a situationship, you show your best friend your nudes and ask for advice. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. distribution of explicit material, oral, objectification, mentions of squirting, breeding, anal & filming.

the door to suna's room creaks as you step inside.

after having spent all day bed rotting with your best friend, you decided to step out for some fresh air (and a quick smoke), and unsurprisingly, suna is still exactly as you left him — on his phone, leaning back against his headboard. he doesn't spare you a glance as you enter the room.

your phone is still perched precariously on the edge of his bed, and you approach it with caution. part of the reason you rushed outside was because during an awfully risque text conversation with a guy you've been talking to, you obliged and sent him some lewd pics. but he left you on read.

in your defence, it was a heat-of-the-moment decision, and he did request it, so it's not as though you were sending unsolicited images like some sort of perv. but the fact he was taking so long to respond did make you feel like one, though a small voice in your head tried to reassure you that surely he wasn't ignoring you, perhaps your pics have just given him something to take care of.

regardless, the larger part of you was moritified and unsure what to do, so you just dropped your phone on the bed and removed yourself from the situation — clearing your mind before you returned.

now, it was time for the moment of truth. you sat yourself awkwardly down on the corner of the bed, and hesitantly reached for your phone. no new notifications: that didn't fill you with much hope at all. after inputting your password, you navigated to the app and searched for his contact, and suspiciously it wasn't it your 'recently messaged' tab.

your heart was already thundering in your chest, but this only made it far worse. all your messages and chat history with this guy had disappeared, and when you tried to desperately type one out to him, it was immediately marked as 'failed to send'.

you frown, body going slack as you fall back onto the bed and defeatedly drawl, "he blocked me.."

suna finally perked up from his oblivious post at the other side of his bed, "who blocked you?"

"the guy i was texting.."

"that sucks." suna responded bluntly. though you couldn't blame him, he clearly didn't understand the severity of the situation, so you tried to explain it to him,

"you don't get it! i actually really liked him, and we were having such a nice time talking until.." you trail off, failing to find the courage to admit the shameful truth.

"until?" suna pried.

"rinny! can i ask you something?" you inquire, swiftly sitting upright as you shift the conversation, "can i send you some photos and you can tell me what you think of them?"

if suna was being completely honest, he was only half paying attention to whatever it was you were saying, so naturally he didn't notice the sudden change in topic of discussion — or he just didn't care. your new request wasn't foreign to him though; often you'll ask him to review random pics that you plan on adding to a photo dump online. or asking him to rank what order you should add the pics to your instagram carousel. or in which of these three images are you serving the most cunt. stuff like that, thus he agreed.

"sure. send them and i'll look."

"yay." you hummed with delight, and eagerly forwarded him the pics, "let me know what you think. i thought they looked fine but now i'm having second thoughts.."

he tapped the notification at the top of his screen and was directed to the chat with you. in which, he was met with an influx of images he was not expecting.

you, his best friend, who he's known for as long as he can remember, perched on your bathroom counter and posing for a mirror photo — wearing nothing but a floral thong and no top. your back was facing the mirror so he couldn't see your chest, but the plump globe of your ass was fully exposed and unshielded by the skimpy sliver of fabric.

his blood rushed to his head, and also his dick. his whole body was tense and thus his eyes were glued to the lewd picture of you, not only because he was mesmerised but also since he was so rigid he couldn't bring himself to move his thumb.

the furious pounding of his heartbeat rattled in his eardrums. he's never seen you so bare before. of course you've worn revealing clothes around him before — like when you go to the beach together, or sometimes when you're just hanging out in a warm environment — but never in such a purposeful or pornographic manner.

don't get him wrong, you've always been alluring to him but he just assumed that was just a part of your nature and he was being a sly pervert for secretly viewing you in an explicit way. like when you'd pull your hoodie off and your shirt would ride up and he'd get a peek of your underboob. or when you'd sit with your legs up on the couch while wearing shorts and he could see the outline of your sweet folds. it was undoubtably hot but that was never the intention, or so he assumed.

even though your back was to the mirror in the image, he could still tell that you weren't wearing any top, and the placement of your other hand just underneath the rotund curve of your ass was so deliberate and hot. it's like he was seeing you in a whole other light; he didn't know you were capable of being so sexy on purpose — he always assumed it was more of an accidental thing for you.

it's like his whole impression of you was shattering. maybe you weren't the sweet girl with a grimy sense of humour he thought you were; maybe you were truly a slutty bombshell. it was surreal and nauseating yet he still ached to see more.

though, before he began scrolling through the several other images you sent him, he gulped and turned the phone to show you the screen, "uhm, did you mean to send me this?"

you furrowed your brows together and leaned forward to inspect the screen, afraid you might've sent him pics of your medical anomaly that you meant to show the doctor. but once you examined the pic, you sighed and sat back in place, "yeah, those are the right ones." you state plainly, and suna proceeds to stare blankly at you, entirely speechless.

it freaked you out a little, so you attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence, "what do you think? that's what i sent to the guy before he blocked me. i thought they were kinda cute.. but there must be something wrong with them." he still looks astonished, so you clarify, "and he asked for me to send them, by the way. i didn't just do it randomly."

suna nods slowly as if that were of any reassurance what-so-ever. you press him to continue looking, and he cautiously does so. his thumb moves on his own as he swipes through the multiple suggestive images you sent him. and his dick begins to throb looking at each one.

they are all so hot; makes him feel so perverted for enjoying it. many are taken in your bathroom mirror, a string bikini top with a measly little thong on. he recalls you wore that exact set to the beach with him one time, except you were wearing a floral sarong too. it was sheer but there was still enough fabric to obscure you're delicious ass. but in this picture it was all out for the camera.

there was even a couple shots from that one halloween where you went as a zombie cowgirl. the costume itself was cool but suna recalls it wasn't revealing or intentionally 'sexy' or anything like that — which is why his heart leaped upon seeing your various upskirt pics, that were probably taken after he walked you home after a night out. some were shot directly up your skirt, showing the plushness of your ass up close, while others were taken in your bedroom mirror. either with you lifting your skirt up teasingly, or full-on bent over for the camera. from certain angles, he could even see the imprint of your lips through your thin panties which drove him absolutely insane.

to think, if he was smart enough that night, he could've stayed over at yours and buried himself in that cute ass, that you were clearly so desperate to show off. could've ate that pristine hole and felt your soft ass cradle his face. it's as though he could hear the adorable little noises you would've made, ringing in his ears.

he been gawking at his phone screen for a while, saying nothing, so you pry, "i look fine, right, rin? c'mon, please don't tell me i look weird! i thought these pictures were cute, so i don't know why he didn't like them.." you whine with a frustrated pout. you really don't understand men, thus you were hoping suna would be of some assistance, but he wasn't even saying anything or providing useful insight. just gaping at his screen.

"uh, they look.." he started, voice trailing off as his eyes were still glued to your perky ass clad in nothing but a thong, and his mind began to run wild with fantasies, "uhm.."

you interpretted his lust-fuelled daze as disinterest, and sighed. "really? they're that bad. what's wrong with 'em? i don't get it.. oh! is it because i'm leaving to much to the imagination? are they not overt enough?" you bite your lip as you antsily scroll through your secure folders and forward him some additional pictures, "look, i have dirtier ones. whatdya think? are these ones better?"

as promised, the new images you sent him were dirtier. filthy, in fact.

now you were wearing absolutely nothing. suna choked on his own spit at the sight of you stood bare in front of your bathroom mirror, posing suggestively for the camera. your whole pussy was exposed and so were your erect nipples, that he had previously only seen when they were teasing him by straining against the fabric of your tank tops.

he knew you were attractive but it was shocking to realise that is the body you've been hiding this whole time. had he knew that earlier, he would've ripped your clothes off a lot sooner.

in some of them your hair was wet and the bathroom mirror was steamy, as though you had just gotten out of the shower. for the most part he's been hyper-focussed on your seductive body, however, he's suddenly beginning to notice things in the background. like the pattern of the bathroom tiles.. and the shape of the mirror.. and the colour of the countertops.. shit, were some of these taken in his bathroom?

there was no denying it. the reality came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and knocked the wind right out of him. at some point, he was chilling in his room, probably playing video games or texting his friends without a care in the world, patiently waiting for his turn to shower, while you were in the adjoining bathroom, posing for nude selfies and showing off your slutty tits for the camera. in his mirror.

fuck, if only he knew. now he feels like an idiot. the things he would've done to that hot body in the shower, his dick aches just thinking about it. he'd need to finish in you so many times, until his cum was drooling out of you and he'd only stop once the water ran cold.

there were shots with your legs spread too. on halloween again, your skirt was hiked up and your panties were pulled to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. he'd do anything to lock his mouth to those puffy folds of yours. taste that sticky, juicy cunt. even without flash, your pussy was visibly soaked with your arousal. it coated your lips and stuck to your inner thighs.

and the sight of your tantalising hole was enough to make him light-headed. so puckered and cute for the camera. and it was about the tightest little thing he's ever seen. from the way your own juices soak your pretty pussy, he could tell you were undoubtly needy that halloween night. he hates himself for not burying his cock into that snug hole and stretching you out. pounding his fat dick into over and over, and making you take it. or his tongue, then he wouldn't stop until you squirt in his mouth, and he'd keep going for several rounds until you—

"hellooo? earth to rinny. anybody there?" you wave your hand in between his dry eyes and the phone, which momentarily rips him out of his horny trance.

"huh?" he groans, confused as to what you are disturbing him for, when he was so close drinking up your first orgasm (in his imagination.)

"do you think i should've sent the dirtier pics?" you pondered aloud, waiting for suna's much-needed input, "maybe he blocked me because he thought i was a prude, or something like that."

"you're definitely not a prude." suna utters his first coherent (and sfw) thought in the last ten minutes. "why.. did you send me these?"

"so i can get your opinion, dummy!" you roll your eyes, prodding at his shoulder, "that's what i've been syaing this whole time. it's not like i'm showing you my nudes for fun."

"right.." his brows twitch, trying his best not to even glance down at his phone screen, as he knows he'll be distracted again, "i think you look fine."

"fine?!—"

"—great! you look great." suna swiftly corrects himself, then continues, "why do you care that some guy blocked you? he was probably just an asshole."

"what if he blocked me because he thinks i'm hideous?" you whine.

"you're not." he states plainly. "but if you're that worried about it, i could help you take some better photos."

"really?"

"yeah." he slowly stands up from the bed, weary as to conceal his throbbing erection as he moves, "what're friends for?"

you smile gently up at him, and without further question, you begin to remove your clothes. in truth, you are a bit hesitant because you've never purposefully stripped for him before — yeah, sometimes you guys would change in front of each other, but that was never as intimate as this. however, you persevered because you felt as though during your embarrassing moment, you reached a new level of friendship and camaraderie with suna. one in which you could be more vulnerable with each other.

first to come off was your jumper, then your shorts, and next thing you knew, you were laying completely nude out in front of suna. he loomed over you, grasping onto his phone camera for dear life. his eyes were zeroed in on your tits, but you tried your best to ignore that and giggled, "how should i pose first?"

rintaro forced himself to gulp down whatever hedonistic thoughts were brewing in his mind, for now. he didn't want to risk appearing too eager, even if your naked body in such close proximity to him almost caused knees to give out under him. he needs to act casual. "lay on your front."

you do as you are told, and you mewl slightly as his cold hands runs over the back of your thigh, massaging your silkly flesh. he kneeds the doughy meat of your ass with his palms, then promptly spreads your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. you can almost hear his devilish grin as he snaps a photo and hums, "there we go. so tight for the camera. you wouldn't mind if i.." his muses, as his fingers idly dance over your rear, playfully poking your ass until they sneak down to prod at your hole.

then, without warning, he shoves two digits straight in, takes the pic then yanks them back out. your back arches instictively at the lewd intrusion, "ngh, rinny!" you squeal, scrunching your features, "just take normal ones.."

"this is the sort of stuff guys like, though." he reassures, stroking your perky ass, savouring the sensation of your supple skin under his hand. "action shots."

"hmm.." you considered his suggestion, bearing in mind that he's a horny fuck that probably just wanted to stick his fingers inside you, "maybe my old pics are a bit vanilla.." you admitted.

"yeah. they're hot but you could look a lot hotter." he said, blinkly slowly, "you know what guys like? squirting pics."

"...really?" you raised an eyebrow, peering over your shoulder so he could see your clearly dubious expression.

"mhm. most guys are super turned on by it. you could land any guy if you had a pic like that." he explains with an absurd amount of sincerity and confidence, despite the fact he pulled all of that out of his ass.

"and how would i get a photo like that?" you slowly roll over onto your back, so you're looking up at him while he's stood at the edge of the bed, holding your thigh in one hand and his phone in the other — with his camera pointed directly at you.

"i guess i'd have to tongue fuck you.." he says 'begrudgingly'.

"oh i'd never made you do that, rinny." you're onto his agenda, since he does a terrible job at hiding it. the massive tent in his pants was making it too obvious that he wanted to fuck you. but you like to tease him about it. "i could just use a vibrator, while you take the picture."

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

#suna rintarō #suna smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu time skip #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#👾nsfw

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

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text message. l Joel Miller

a/n : a while ago i got a message from anon asking me to write something for joel. i managed to do it today. sorry you had to wait so long. i hope you like it.

warnings : pre-outbreak Joel, some angst, misunderstanding, age difference (about 10 years), suspected pregnancy, argument, Sarah and Tommy mentioned, lots of uncertainty and fear

[Joel Miller masterlist] [my masterlist]

He shouldn't have done that. It was crossing all boundaries, violating your privacy and trust, but he couldn't help himself. When your phone made a series of strange noises that indicated a message had been received and you were in the bathroom at a gas station, Joel reached for it and looked at the screen. A cold chill ran down his spine a second later.

"Two weeks late? Did you take a test? You should see a doctor. What did Joel say?"

A heavy stone landed squarely in his stomach, and he felt his head spin. “Fuck!” he groaned almost silently, shaking his hand as he placed the phone back where you’d left it.

He immediately guessed what you and your friend could have been talking about, he had no doubts. If you were pregnant, that complicated everything.

Joel Miller wasn't entirely sure if he should do it, but when he met you on one of his bar crawls with his younger brother Tommy, he felt like fate had finally favored him. He was almost thirty-six, had a teenage daughter, worked hard, and couldn't remember the last time he'd met a woman. You, on the other hand, were simply beautiful, talkative, with a charming smile on your lips. You were also almost ten years younger than him.

It didn't bother him as much on your first date, or your second, or when you kissed on the couch, or after the first time you had sex. Joel felt younger and happier with you, and everyone around him noticed the change in him.

He fell in love like a stupid teenager, and you didn't make it any easier for him. It was only after a few months that he started to wonder. Maybe dating you wasn't so wise? Maybe you were really too young for him?

When you would visit him at work, bringing him lunch or something, guys would often make fun of him. Joel wasn't as immune to this as he thought. His insecurities grew, and worries about whether he was doing the right thing also grew in his mind too.

And now this. Pregnancy. When Sarah was born, he was too young, and now he felt too old to be playing in diapers. What if you, too, disappeared, like Sarah's mother? Would he be able to cope? What if no woman saw the possibility of a permanent relationship with him, and when the baby came, she simply ran away?

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

He didn't even notice that you had returned and were already sitting next to him. He nodded uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Tommy called, something at the construction site." he lied, quickly starting the engine.

"Do you want to go there?"

"What? No, I don't have to." Joel replied, "Sarah has a game today."

He didn't say anything else the entire ride home, and then to the game you went to with them. He seemed strangely distant, but you were certain he was constantly thinking about work. Even when you suggested ice cream afterward, Joel showed almost no interest.

You dropped Sarah off at a friend's for a sleepover and you were sure that you and Joel would go to his place, but when he suddenly said, "I'll drop you home." You already knew something was wrong.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled the truck up in front of your apartment. Once again, you spent the entire ride in silence, which wasn’t normal.

He shook his head. "No, everything's fine."

“Joel? Look at me, please.” He did it reluctantly, but eventually your eyes met. “You’ve been out of sorts all day. What’s wrong?”

"I've had a lot on my mind lately and..."

"Please, don't lie to me." You interrupted him. You weren't mad, he saw concern on your face. "Did something happen?"

“I…” he began, but the words were hard to get out of his throat. He felt your warm hand on his forearm and it broke him. “Are you pregnant?”

"W-What?" you blurted out, completely surprised.

"I saw, quite by accident, a message from your friend. You're two weeks late. Something about a test and a doctor. I need to know."

You looked at him with slightly parted lips, a small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows. You couldn't gather your thoughts in your head, but Joel clearly couldn't stop himself from talking.

“I think about it all the time. You’re still young, you have plans,” he said, and you felt every word hit you harder. “I know we should be more careful. This whole thing between us is still new and uncertain. You’re so young, I shouldn’t have… Fuck. I fucked it up.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Miller?" you gasped, completely stunned by his words "What do you mean - too young? I..."

"Look at us. I have a teenage daughter, and you're at the beginning of your career. You can leave this town anytime you want, because there's nothing keeping you here. But what if you're pregnant? That complicates things like hell and..."

"Stop it!" you raised your hand in warning "You're talking nonsense! I knew how old you were from the beginning, I knew about Sarah and it didn't bother me."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Now you say that."

“Oh! And you’re a know-it-all!” you snorted angrily. “So I think it’s safe to say you took advantage of a young and fresh pussy.”

Joel gave you a stern look, but you didn't even blink. You were ready to fight him if he wanted to. You were aware of his fears and insecurities, but you thought that by this point you had already shown him how much you cared about him. Age was just a number to you, and ten years didn't make much difference when you weren't a teenager anymore.

"I never thought of you that way." he replied, clenching his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"I feel different now." you replied, shrugging. "Because you're acting like you're just looking for an excuse to break up with me. Because you read some message on my phone? Please! That's pathetic!"

“Pathetic?!” Joel raised his voice. How could you be so indifferent to how your life might change? No one in their right mind would decide to have a child so soon. But of course, you were still young, the romantic vision of a family still lingered in your mind, and you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

Joel wanted to say something else, but you suddenly grabbed your things and got out of the car slamming the door. He quickly got out after you.

"Did you take the test? When are you seeing the doctor?" he asked, catching you before the door.

"Leave me alone." you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

You looked at him in a way Joel had never experienced before. Your warm gaze turned hard and angry, your mouth a thin line, and your entire body took on a defensive stance. You had never argued like this before.

"Fine." you finally said. "I'll tell you. I have an appointment on Monday. Are you happy?"

"I'll go with you."

“Don’t be ridiculous, this doesn’t concern you at all,” you laughed nervously. “And it definitely doesn’t concern you now.”

Joel looked at you in surprise. So he's already screwed everything up? He's already erased those few really good months?

“I’m not pregnant,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “My last checkup showed I had ovarian cysts. They caused my periods to be irregular, and now my period is a few weeks late. The doctor said I should see him if that happens.”

"Cysts?" Joel repeated.

"Yes! I didn't tell you anything because I didn't see the need." you replied "I'm not pregnant, Joel. And you... You, fucked up."

You turned around and disappeared through the door before he had a chance to say anything.

Joel had all night to think about what had happened. All night without sleep, when he kept seeing your angry face in his mind, when he kept repeating your words and feeling worse by the moment. He picked up the phone several times to call you, but he kept giving up, terrified you wouldn't pick up.

What would he have done if you hadn't picked up? Would that have meant the end for both of you? He couldn't believe that his own fears and insecurities had led him to attack you so suddenly. He could have done it differently, he could have waited for you to say something. Instead, he had cornered you and forced you to admit to something that was clearly your own personal issue, one that you wanted to resolve on your own.

He knew nothing about women's health issues. When Sarah got her first period, he managed with the help of a nice store employee, and then his daughter took over. For Joel, a missed period meant pregnancy, and that meant panic and everything he had experienced before.

No, he didn't want to make excuses for his behavior. He had screwed up. He felt like you were disappointed in him and he had no idea what to do about it.

It was still early when he showed up at your place. You opened the door, sleepy, with ruffled hair, in one of those oversized t-shirts you slept in.

"Joel?" you mumbled hoarsely, rubbing your face, "Did something happen? Something with Sarah?"

He shook his head. "No. I had to see you. I had to... Fuck." He scratched the back of his neck, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Can we talk? I, I need to know that I didn't completely fuck this up."

You looked at him for a moment in silence, as if you were considering his words in your head. It was a really long few seconds, but you finally pulled away, allowing Joel to step inside. The apartment was bathed in morning sunlight, and Joel's eyes immediately went to the few framed photos of him and Sarah that you had at your place. Another needle stabbed him in the heart.

"So?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."

"I don't know where to start." he mumbled completely sincerely.

"I suggest you start from the beginning."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm a fucking idiot."

You tilted your head. "Good start."

Joel took a deep breath. He wanted to do it right, he wanted to take advantage of the chance he was given. Maybe it was the last one he had.

"I know now that I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I still can't believe you chose me. I kept thinking we weren't right for each other, that we were too different."

“Are you still thinking about age?”

He nodded. "Yeah. See, you're young, and I..."

You rolled your eyes and cursed loudly. “If you’re going to give me this age difference bullshit, maybe just leave. Jesus! That’s not twenty or fifty. Joel, I’m an adult, I work, I pay taxes. I get to decide who I’m with?”

“You think so now.”

“I thought so from the beginning! When I met you, the first thing I thought was that you have gorgeous eyes and really broad shoulders. I felt good with you, I liked you, and I think you’re really sexy. It has nothing to do with your age.” You took a deep breath and put your hands on your hips, like you were trying to explain something really obvious. “Sarah is amazing, I love spending time with her. I love you, even though sometimes you drive me crazy, and yesterday you really pissed me off. I didn’t tell you about the doctor because there was nothing to talk about. But if you had any suspicions, you should have come to me instead of getting even more upset. I felt like you were just looking for a reason to break up with me.”

“It’s not like that.” Joel took a step toward you. “When Sarah’s mother left us, I was left to fend for myself. Yes, there was Tommy and my mother to help us, but single parenting is no easy feat. I was certain you would disappear, too. Not only would you leave me with a child, but you would simply conclude that I was somehow flawed, that I wasn’t cut out to be with you. I guess I preferred sabotaging us rather than simply facing my fears.”

You looked at him, trying to understand his words. His face, eyes, and body language told you he wasn't lying. Joel was full of uncertainty and doubt, but you thought you were past that stage. You told him many times that you loved him, you didn't belittle his needs, and you always helped him with Sarah or around the house. And yet he felt all of this?

“I’m trying to understand you, Joel, I really am.” You finally said, sighing softly. “But I can’t be the only one in this relationship fighting for us. I feel like no matter what I say or do, you’ll find a reason why we can’t be together. Do you even love me?”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, moving closer and taking your face in his hands. “You have no idea how much I love you. And that scares me. I’m always afraid you’ll find all my flaws.”

"You have a lot of them. I do too. But does it matter when we're happy together?"

No, it didn't matter. The fear of losing you showed Joel what really mattered to him. He cared about you more than he could admit. He saw how perfectly you fit into his family, always trying to help everyone and make everyone happy. He didn't think he'd ever feel the same way about anyone again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what I could do to fix this." He whispered, you felt tears welling up in your eyes at how much he was going through. "But I don't want to end what we have. I love you, I'm sure of that."

"You think so now." You replied, parroting his words.

He smiled slightly. “I’ve known this for a long time, and I think the knowledge scared me. The fear that you’d disappear and I’d be left alone with this feeling. I don’t want you to disappear. I want to stay, permanently.”

"I want to stay too, Joel. Don't push me away ever again."

"Never again, baby."

He kissed you, softly and tenderly, as if he was afraid he still might. But when you kissed him back, Joel felt an unimaginable sense of relief. He had you in his arms again, all the dark thoughts swirling in his head dissipated and he felt happiness fill him. Your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you, letting him kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

You could get through this, together. By being more honest, by giving each other a chance at happiness and love, by supporting each other. Joel knew he would do anything to deserve you, and you couldn't imagine not giving him another chance.

“I’ll go to the doctor with you on Monday if you want,” he said as you poured him a fresh cup of coffee and sat down next to him at the table.

“If you want. I could use some support,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and smiled. He would give you anything, and you never asked for much. You just wanted him to love you, and Joel wanted that too.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us

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cheol-e-kat · 1 month ago

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𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐟𝐭. 𝐜.𝐬𝐜

the unknown sender one

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕

summary: seungcheol keeps getting nudes and he hasn't a clue from who, but maybe you do

genre: rivals to lovers, college au

word count: 1.8k

He loved that you pretended to hate him. Every time you had given him side eye in class or avoided him at a party - all fake. Every time he watched you pointedly flirt with someone else in front of him - it was just an act.

He wasn’t jealous, though. Because no matter what you did, no matter what the little performance was for the day, he knew exactly who you really wanted.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

It had started with dirty messages.

At first he had no idea who was texting him, but they were fun.

How could he be mad at someone who told him in detail all the ways they wanted him to fuck them - all the random moments in a day when they would rather be sucking his cock than doing whatever they were doing.

He didn’t think it would last very long, maybe a few days or a week at most.

But he was surprised when they continued. There were the normal dirty texts, but then there was a photo early one morning. First one photo and then a second one.

The first was of panties, blue mesh with little white polka dots.

He had chewed his lip lightly before messaging back.

[seungcheol]

v cute

Then there was the second photo that had made his cock stiffen.

He didn’t know what to say because this time whoever it was sending the texts and photos was sitting, wearing the cute panties. Her gorgeous thighs open, and her fingers dipping down between her legs, pushing the crotch of her panties to the side to reveal her very wet pussy lips.

[unknown]

just for you

His mouth was like cotton. His brain was mush. He could barely think of his own name, much less a message to respond.

He had jammed his phone in his pocket and left for class. In all reality, he had no idea how he even made it to the right class.

He barely took notes. You were sitting next to him, thanks to assigned seating and no other reason.

He was surprised when you even glanced his way during break.

“No notes today?“ You quipped.

He shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know.”

You watched him for a moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled, still thinking about whoever was wearing those blue panties.

You bit your lip gently. “Do you want to borrow my notes later?”

It was the second unexpected thing to happen to him. You - his rival in almost every class who made no secret of how you couldn’t stand him. You were offering to share your precious notes.

He glanced at you then. “What?” He asked softly in surprise.

You sighed. “Do you want to borrow my notes?” You repeated yourself slowly, dragging out every syllable.

He didn’t care - he just nodded.

“Okay, but it’s only because you look like someone broke your brain or something,” you muttered with a small smile.

He nodded because that was accurate. Someone had broken his brain.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

And they seemed to enjoy it because it became like a morning ritual. Two photos.

Until one Saturday morning it changed.

There was just one photo.

No panties for him to imagine.

Just her naked pussy. And her fingers shoved inside herself.

He replied almost immediately.

[seungcheol]

that’s not fair

He watched the little dots on his screen.

[unknown]

what’s unfair is that u never show me anything in return

He scoffed. “What the fuck?” He muttered. It wasn’t that his dick wasn’t hard - it definitely was.

[seungcheol]

ur asking to see my dick??

He waited again.

[unknown]

yae cheol show me ur gorgeous cock i know it’s better irl than anything i can imagine

She sent another photo, her breasts, her pussy, everything, like she was waiting to be fucked.

He bit his lip gently, reading the message over again and staring at the photo.

[seungcheol]

fuck ur beautiful […]

how do you imagine it?

[unknown]

srsly

[seungcheol]

ya srsly […]

tell me

[unknown]

big and thick […]

perfect pink head that i want to lick and suck and tease

He groaned as he slid his hand under the waistband of his underwear, pumping his cock roughly.

He was used to a few messages here and there, but not an actual conversation.

[seungcheol]

i want you swallowing me

[unknown]

mhm i’d love you to fuck my mouth […]

nice and rough

He bit his lip, knowing he was on the edge.

[seungcheol]

want to fuck your pussy too […]

cum inside you […]

fill you up

[unknown]

knew you were nasty […]

so fuckin perf

He was so close to coming. He shoved his underwear off and sat up to snap a photo of himself. Whoever it was, she wasn’t wrong about him. The only thing she missed was the way precum was dripping down his shaft.

He hit ‘send’ and finished himself off. He took a photo of that too - his still hard cock standing stiff and his cum covered stomach.

He sent it.

[unknown]

fuck ur still hard […]

i want u inside me […]

want you fucking me full bby

He grinned as he used his tshirt to wipe his clean up his cum.

[seungcheol]

i’d have to know who u are first

[unknown]

u do kno me tho

He chewed his lip lightly.

[seungcheol]

yea but not really

[unknown]

you’ve seen my pussy

He grinned.

[seungcheol]

so i should go around looking for the pussy that matches the photos??

[unknown]

no. you should not

He had never asked who it was. He kind of liked not knowing, or at least knowing it could be almost anyone.

[unknown]

maybe we could meet

It had been going on for weeks.

[seungcheol]

you really want to meet?

He waited for an answer, wondering if she was serious.

[unknown]

maybe […]

see you later cheollie

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what that meant.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

He met you later that day. For whatever reason you’d decided that working together was smarter than competing, so you’d been meeting for the last few weeks to share notes and practice exams.

He sat in the normal spot where you met, north campus library, fifth floor, near the windows.

You were a few minutes late, apologizing as you sat down. He smiled, wondering why you cared about being a few minutes late on a Saturday.

“Good morning?” You asked as you opened your laptop.

He nodded. “Yeah, you?”

You nodded, smiling. “Really good,” you murmured.

He blushed slightly - there was something about the way you said it was a really good morning that made his dick twitch. It felt familiar somehow.

You sighed softly, typing away. He yawned, waiting for you to tell him which exam you wanted to review.

You glanced at him. “Cute.”

“I was up late.” He shrugged.

“Oh yeah? What’s her name?”

He snorted. “Her name is beer pong.”

You glanced up, smirking. “So you’re good?”

He nodded. “Pretty good, yeah.”

You smiled. “Hmm, just pretty good or actually good?”

“Actually good.”

You nodded. “Would you maybe want to come to a party with me then?”

You continued to surprise him. Since when had you ever wanted to be seen anywhere with him.

“Why?”

“Because there’s someone more annoying than you who I really want to beat,” you said with a smile.

He rolled his eyes.

You sighed and looked at him. “Okay, look, please, Seungcheol? I just need a partner for like a few rounds, and if we win, I’ll owe you,” you said, your voice was just the tiniest bit whiny.

It was cute.

He chewed his lip lightly. “Owe me how?”

“One social favor of equal or lesser value,” you said sweetly.

It was bizarre, but so was everything else. So he agreed.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

He had seen you out before, and he had maybe been stupid enough when he first met you to try to talk to you, thinking that being competitive over grades didn’t extend to social things. And you shot him down blindingly fast.

But tonight was different.

You invited him over to pre-game before the party. He had stopped questioning anything you did by then.

After a few shots, of course, he followed you into your bedroom. And when you were straddling his lap, kissing him, your hands tangling in his hair, all he could think was that you were on the cusp of fucking.

Until you leaned back, grabbing his hands and guiding them to your thighs, pushing up your skirt. He swallowed hard when he saw.

No underwear. He looked up at you, biting his lip. “Fuck,” he whispered.

You smiled, leaning close, lips brushing his cheek. “You wanted to meet, right?”

He squeezed your thighs gently. “You?”

“Mmmh, me,” you whispered.

He hummed. “And I thought you hated me.” He fell back on your bed.

You traced your hands down his chest. “No, you’re just annoying - smart and so annoying.”

He grinned softly, his hands tracing high on your hip and down lower, his fingers skimming just above your pussy. “How’d you even get my number?”

You sighed softly. “You gave it to me first year.” Your hands covered his, pulling them up to your breasts.

He moaned. “Come here,” he whispered, pulling your hips towards him, wanting to eat you from below. He’d been thinking about your pussy all day, not even knowing it was yours, now he wanted to drown in you.

He licked up into you, tasting you.

You moaned. “Fuck, don’t stop,” you whined.

He grinned, adding his fingers, like he had any plans to stop what he was doing to you.

He loved the sounds you made, all the soft whines and the way you whispered his name. Every word was needy and sweet.

And then you came - you leaned forward, bracing yourself against the wall, mewling his name. “Oh fuck, please - please don’t stop.” You were gasping.

He grabbed your thighs harder, holding you in place, wanting to taste every drop. And when he let you go, he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling off his shirt and yours. He kissed and licked your tits, sucking them roughly, wanting to leave marks.

When he leaned up, he kissed you and felt the way your legs went around his waist. It was the most perfect feeling.

He leaned up, looking at you, tracing his fingers along your cheek and jaw. “So perfect,” he whispered.

You smiled. “You too.” He felt the way your hands traced along his pecs and down his stomach.

He ducked back down, kissing you more, loving how sloppy and messy it was.

And when you were both finally naked and his cock was buried in your pussy, he couldn’t help the way he snapped his hips. Or the rough contact his pelvis made with yours. You sounded so wet, he couldn’t help himself. The way you came was so good. So fucking good.

And when he was finally spent, he felt like he melted against you, pulling you close. He needed to feel your skin against his, even while he slept.

You were definitely his now.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

a/n: because cheol is always on my mind ^^

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂𝒕

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here]

𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐥

angst - [ a ] || fluff - [ f ] || smut - [ s ]

teasers: all but break your heart |୨୧| tonight tonight |୨୧| cold fire (cheol only - attorney au)

|୨୧| drabbles:

|୨୧| fluff:

profound, not sudden [ f ]

|୨୧| oneshots:

bisou bisou request #001 [ s ] ||

|୨୧| series:

obvious affection [ pt. 1 f ] [ pt. 2 f & s ]

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 [ pt. 1 s ] [ pt. 2 s ]

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇. 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊 [ pt. 1 s ] [ pt. 2 s ]

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 [ master list ] [ pt. 1 s ] [ pt. 2 s ] [ pt. 3 f & s ] [ pt. 4 f ]

|୨୧| seungcheol bingo [ all s] :

knotting + marking |

professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) |

monster |

spanking (neighbor seungcheol) |

big dick + hate sex |

forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) |

voyeurism + punishment |

coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (never let you go pt. 1) |

bodyguard + drunk confession |

anon sex + hair pulling + mask wearing (all up to you part i) |

big dick!cheol + hate sex (choose your own adventure) |

sexual frustration + ex sex |

|୨୧| omegaverse (a/b/o):

alpha seungcheol [pt. 1] [pt. 2] ||

never let you go [master list] [part 1 f & s] [part 2 f ] ||

[ taglist ]

☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @coupsbestleader [e] ☁︎ @fleurloovin [e] ☁︎ @babybae-shisui [e] ☁︎ @asyre [e] ☁︎ @dcrlingyou [e] ☁︎ @yeosayang [e] ☁︎ @nanabananananabatman ☁︎

☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @thepoopdokyeomtouched [e - multi/priv] ☁︎ @tokitosun [ e - one/multi ] ☁︎ @stupendouschildnerd [ e - drabbles/one/multi/master list ] ☁︎

☁︎ @living0livia [c.sc - e ] ☁︎

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homeofthelonelywriter · 2 months ago

Text

gamer!Ghost x f!gamer!reader | Previous Part

Y: Hey, I hope it’s okay that I’m just writing you. Just wanted to ask if everything’s okay since you left so suddenly a few days ago? Lmk if you need something!

Y: Hi, it’s been a few days. If I’m annoying or anything, just block me, but I wanted to check in. Are you okay? Just…please let me know that you are, I’m kind of worried.

Y: It’s been over two weeks. You haven’t blocked me, so I’m going to assume that you don’t hate me. But now I’m really worried. You’re not streaming, not responding, not anything. Just tell me that you’re okay, please? I’m here if you need something.

Y: Istg, if I knew your real name or where you lived, I would have called the police by now to check on you. Damn you and your mysterious nature.

G: Simon Riley. But the police won’t do you any good, love.

The message came in the middle of a stream, and you were just glad you had the message preview deactivated. Still, the way you scrambled to get out of the game and onto Discord had you almost falling out of your chair. But before you could answer, another message popped up.

G: Careful lovie, don’t hurt yourself.

You couldn’t help but smile.

Y: Are you watching my stream?

G: Maybe. How long are you planning on streaming?

Y: Donno. Why?

G: Need to hear your voice. Not through the stream, but directed at me.

You grinned like a fool as you quickly checked for how long you had been streaming for already. Almost five hours, that’s long enough. “Sorry, everyone, I have to end the stream now. A family emergency came up and I gotta go, but I’ll catch you guys later! Bye!” You gave your viewers the chance to say bye in chat before ending the stream and closing everything. And almost immediately, Discord started ringing. Without hesitation, you accepted the call, a smile on your face.

“Hi.” For a short moment, it was quiet, but then his voice came through, tired and rough. “’ello lovie.” A relieved sigh escaped you, and you relaxed into your chair, fully leaning back. “Are you okay?” He sighed too, the sound almost sinful, but the exhaustion bled through, and you couldn’t help but frown. “Yeah. Just…really tired. But I couldn’t go one more day without hearing your voice, so…” You giggled, but you quickly stopped, worry still nagging at you. “You were gone for three weeks, Ghost-” “Call me Simon. At least off-stream. Please.” “…Simon. I was really worried.” For a few beats, he stayed silent. “If I tell you the truth, you can’t tell anyone. Not your viewers, not your family, not your friends. No one, yeah?” Your frown deepened. “O-Okay.”

“I’m in the military. I was on a mission, got the call in the middle of our last session. It was the reason I left so quickly. I’m sorry I worried you, love, that was never my intention.” Stutters left your lips, your thoughts racing as you tried to put them into words. In the end, you settled on the question you'd already asked him. “Are you okay?” He chuckled. “After hearing your voice again? Yeah, I’m okay now.” A familiar heat settled on your cheeks as you worried your lip between your teeth, only releasing it to speak. “I’m glad. Next time…just please let me know? I really thought I did something wrong or something happened to you.” You could hear the smile on his lips as he answered. “I will. And, for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry for worrying you.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you nodded to yourself. Comfortable silence settled between you for a few moments before Simon broke it. “Is Nosferatu with you right now?”

You glanced around your room and quickly spotted her, cleaning herself on your bed. But the moment you pspsd at her, she stopped and hurried over to you. “Yeah, she’s here.” With one click, you activated your face cam, softly smiling, before holding her up. “You’re beautiful.” You watched as your eyes widened at his words, a soft blush returning to your cheeks. “Stop it.” He chuckled, dark and slow. “Just telling the truth, love.” With a shy smile, you put Nosferatu down and turned your cam off. “I…I should go to bed now. Got work in the morning and it’s already late.” He hummed before replying. “Sleep well, love.” You smiled, returning the sentiment, before hanging up.

That night, you lied in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a smile on your face. For some reason, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Next Part

A/N: The next part! Thank you for all the love on my last posts and for all the comments! It's so much fun to chat with you all! Also, if any of you are going to the Ghost concert in Frankfurt on Wednesday, hit me up, would love to meet you guys!

Also, let me know if you want to be on the perma taglist! Just say if you want all of COD or specific characters. Although I mostly post Ghost.

@dravenskye @herefor-tojis-tits @lucienofthelakes @tessakate @kakashipandadog @diseasedclitoris @terrormonster55 @solemnlyswearss @sleepisfortheweakpooh @little-mini-me-world @sakunawifey @cap-attheedgeoftheabyss @666spaghetti-ohno @jerru-chan @thegaywitchofwhimsy @tooloudarts @kentuckyhobbit @fruitymoonbeams-blog @crunchyholo @robinfeldt98 @aerynwrites @anonymouse1807 @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @akkahelenaa @rottensage

I hope I have everyone on the taglist! If I forgot you or your tag isn't working, let me know, please! <3

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #gamer!simon riley #gamer!ghost #gamer!simon riley x reader #gamer fanfiction

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cursedbycrossovers · 6 days ago

Text

Help Wanted ≠ Send Sacrifices (Pt. 2)

AN: Reading the replies on the first post makes me feel like I set out a plate of cookies and got a banquet in return, holy cow. I'm so honored, you guys.

Anyway, due to several requests, here you go! More cookies! Since I am also writing a bit for the threads on the original post (which should hopefully be done in the next couple days), I decided to take this one in a direction the other two did not. Please enjoy!

— — —

When Tim had received a message from Jason asking for him specifically to come to this warehouse, he had not been expecting this.

"Ah, Tim, you're here!" Hood sounded oddly cheerful for someone standing just a few feet away from a swirling green vortex that was frothing at the edges like a rabid animal. Seriously, any closer and it'd probably be getting on his shoes.

"I'm gonna hazard a guess and say that's what you called me here for?" Tim nodded in the direction of the toxic green whirlpool as he approached Hood's side. If Jason was standing so close, it was probably safe, but he stayed a half-step further back, just in case.

Why had Jason only called for him, though? Something like this was pretty clearly an all-bats-on-deck situation.

"Yup." Hood confirmed, the voice modulator in his helmet turning the pop of the 'p' into something rather grating. "Go on ahead and hop in."

Tim's thoughts screeched to a halt, and he slowly turned to look at Jason with an expression of pure confusion. "Why... would I... do that?"

"Well, if you don't, I'm gonna have to throw you in." Hood said pragmatically.

Tim blinked in shock, alarm bells beginning to go off in his head. Nothing about Jason's body language indicated he was joking.

"Riiiight..." Tim began inching away from Jason as subtly as he could, "Uh, any particular reason you want that to happen?"

Jason turned to stare into the glow for a few concerningly silent seconds. "He needs help."

Ooooh, Tim did NOT like the emphasis on that 'He.'

"Then why don't you go in?" Tim asked cautiously, then immediately flinched. That was not something you said to someone who was very probably not in their right mind at the moment.

Jason was silent for a second, and if Tim had to guess, he was making a face under the helmet. "I can, if you want me to, but you have to go too," he insisted.

Hood took a step forward, closer to Tim. His hands had seemingly unconsciously begun to rise from his sides.

Tim decided then and there it was time to cut his losses.

Tim whirled around and sprinted back the way he'd come in, beelining for the open window. The heavy clomp of boots behind him told him that Jason was giving chase. Tim's fingers flew over the keypad of his communicator, just barely managing to hit send before Jason's arm hooked around his waist, pulling him back and lifting him up off his feet.

Tim made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a screech as he was flipped over Jason's shoulder, and those heavy boots began to make their way toward the center of the room.

"Jason! Jason–" Tim tried to wriggle free, but Jason's grip was made of iron, his leather jacket and body armor making it so that Tim's hits and kicks landed ineffectively against Jason's torso.

The stiffness faded from Jason's frame the closer they got to the vortex, pausing once they were right on the edge.

"Don't worry, kid, we'll be fine!" He reassured.

"Jason, don't you dare–" Before Tim could finish hissing his threat, Jason leapt into the green with a cheer.

"Geronimo!"

— — —

Pt. 1 | Pt. 3

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #trying my hand at this “writing” thing #Help Wanted ≠ Send Sacrifices

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luveline · 3 months ago

Note

this is very on the nose but have you done an emily prentiss fic when she “dies” and comes back and it’s just very messy with reader 😝 okay love you bye

—Emily comes home. You can’t keep it straight in your head, but she takes care of you. fem, 2k

cw depression, suicidal thoughts, disassociation

It begins with a text message.

You can barely bring yourself to look at your phone. For months after she died, you’d open your phone and look for her contact, her quick text, Won’t be home tonight or What do you want for dinner? And then you’d remember she was dead and burst into ugly, wretched tears, your chest a sizable agony.

You wish she’d come home. In the middle of the night, waking you up with one of those messy kisses that used to piss you off, and a softer one to say sorry. It would all be okay if she just came home, so when you get a text, you don’t want to look because it won’t be Emily, and she’s not on her way back from work.

You open your phone reluctantly and click the unknown number.

Hi, this is Jennifer Jareau. Do you have time to talk?

You don’t want to talk to Jennifer, ever. The last time you’d seen her had been at Emily’s funeral. She was strange. Her coworkers Penelope and Derek had been far more comforting, rubbing your back when you cried, encouraging you forward to drop your rose on her coffin when you’d turned numb with the shock of it. She was really dead. She was never coming back.

You don’t have any substantial grievance with Jennifer and you certainly wouldn’t try to define how she could grieve her friend, but something about her was off, and it’s not like you ever saw any of them again. Penelope asked you to coffee a couple of times, and Derek called, but nothing inside of you wanted to be in Emily's life without her.

You don’t really want to be in life at all.

What’s stopping me from following her? you’d think. Nothing mattered. You’d always felt like you loved Emily more than she loved you in return, not from any great sense of superiority or her lack of care, but Emily had more than you. She lived for her career, and you lived for her.

It’s about Emily.

You stare at your phone. Her text. It’s about Emily. What could she possibly have to say? Emily was killed in the line of duty by a bad man. She died before they could even try to fix her, stabbed in the chest, in agony all the way to the end. What could Jennifer have to tell you now to fix that, all your guilt, your desperation?

Nothing. You ignore her text and turn off your phone to finish getting ready for work.

Your head is clearer after your shift. You get Chinese food to take home with you on your walk and a bag of cat treats, sipping a cold drink, and you only think about Emily and her prawn cracker addiction for ten or so minutes.

Your apartment is quiet when you return, as it always is. “Sergei?” you say softly, hoping to attract your timid cat with a gentle shake of the cat treats. “Baby, come have some dinner with me. I’m home.”

Your cat mews from somewhere in the living room.

“Come on, handsome,” you say, not bothering to hide the complete lack of energy in your voice. You feel better, but not good. You miss Emily, and it doesn’t go away. You lean against the kitchen counter and screw your eyes up tightly. You swear you can smell her, but you’ve read about it now. It’s grief. Thinking you can see her in public places, smelling her after her scent has gone from the bedsheets, it’s just the mind playing tricks on you. Worst of all is the dreams, where she holds you, where she lets herself in to kiss you again, just one more time.

It hurts so badly you can’t wait it out. You sigh like you’re in pain and shift down onto your elbows. Unbidden throbbing cracks against your ribs.

“Are you alright?”

You gasp, wrenching your head around in shock. Immediately you back into the corner of the kitchen countertops, as far from the intruder as possible, scrabbling for your phone.

“It’s okay!” they say, forcing you to slam your eyes closed. Her voice is exactly like it always is, that first alright soft and measured, her okay! said with a laugh, though there’s something self-disparaging there. “I’m– sorry, it’s okay.”

It’s Emily. You know it’s her. Your grief has finally tipped into that awful, thieving ache, your head’s gone. You’re seeing her at home, because you can’t let her go.

“It’s okay,” she says again, softer now.

You shake your head without looking.

“Can I come over there?”

“No.”

“No. Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay right here.”

You shake your head. After a minute of quiet, heart unsteady where it aches in your chest, you squint through your lashes to find her still there, standing by your refrigerator. Sergei jumps on the counter and nuzzles at her arm.

“You okay?” she asks.

“I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“I’m real.”

“No, you’re not.” You suck in a painful breath.

It’s almost worse to think she’s real, because you buried her, because you’ve been hurting so much that you were gonna–

“You’re not real.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell you. I was still a liability, I didn’t want to give them any reason to come back to you, I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

She’s talking so strangely, like you’re a victim of something, like she’s practiced.

You don’t feel good, then. You know you’re not gonna stand much longer, turning again to cling to the countertop, listening in apprehension as her feet pad over the floor. She’s not wearing her shoes.

“You need to sit down, huh?” she asks quietly, lovingly, like she would’ve before. “Come and sit down with me. It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

“But you–”

“Please,” she says. “I don’t have any right to ask you to, but just trust me for a second and sit down with me.”

Her hand closes around the top of your arm and your world fades to a blurred white. The next thing you know, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with your arm held between Emily’s two hands, Sergei rubbing his dark body against her shoulder, mewing desperately for attention. But Emily’s talking to you, a repeated, slow murmur, “It’s alright, it’s gonna be okay, just stay here. I’m right here with you.”

“But you’re not,” you say hoarsely.

“I’m sorry.” She rubs your arm. “God, you’re shaking so hard, I don’t know what to do.”

“Why do you sound upset?”

The anger is a lash. You can see her accept it, despite how sudden it was. “I didn’t want to hurt you like this.”

“You didn’t want to hurt me, are you serious?”

“Doyle escaped incarceration. I had to leave to know you’d be safe, so I could be safe. I couldn’t stay, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But we got him now. He can’t hurt you now.”

“I know Doyle escaped, I’ve been here the whole time!”

“Okay,” she says, backing down as the tears in your eyes grow heavy, your vision blurring her sorry face. She rubs your arm gently, exactly like she used to, “I’m sorry.”

You quieten, sniffling as tears escape your lashes and her face goes out of focus. “Are you real?” you ask under your breath.

“Yeah.”

“Because I’ve– I’ve seen you, I see you everywhere, I hear your voice. How do I know this is real?”

“I don’t know,” she says, pulling at your arm, encouraging your hand to her chest. She holds your fingers to the skin above her beating heart. “Does that help?” She frowns in her way, delicate and too pretty. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

That’s as sorry as she’s ever going to sound, you think.

“Doyle’s gone?”

She nods.

“You’re safe?”

“We’re both safe. I said I’d take care of you, and I did.”

“I thought I’d have to die to see you again.”

Emily pulls your hand to her mouth, kissing the back of it twice, three times, too many kisses to count before she buries her face in your skin. “I’m sorry,” she says, her tone pleading. “I knew what it would do to you, but I couldn’t find another way.”

You run out of things to say. Emily keeps a tight hold on your hand as though she’s worried you’re gonna run away, but you stay.

—

You’re not supposed to forgive her. You know there’s a part of you that needs defending —the months that she’s been gone have changed you as a person. She can see that easily, as could anyone who’s ever known you.

But having her back does ease the pain you’d been in. You aren’t sure what you’re allowed to do, what’s fair to you, but you know you won’t sleep if she doesn’t come to bed with you, so you ask, and her warm eyes turn fully dark. When she’s cleaned off her makeup with a straggling pack of her wipes in the bathroom and changed out of her formal clothes, she’s every bit of the girlfriend you remember having. She pins her hair up with a clip and sits on the side of the bed, timid where she never was, her eyes following the line of you where you’re curled on your side. “I know I don’t deserve to say it, but I missed you,” she says.

“I missed you more.”

She leans down. Mischief in her eyes, a softness to her mouth, she tilts her head to one side like she might kiss you, but she doesn’t. “I’m going to make it up to, I promise. I’ll try forever, if you want.”

“I don’t really believe you’re not something my head made up.” You drop your tone to an utterance. “I’ve finally gone crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“There’s just no way–”

Emily shakes her head, cupping your cheek firmly. “We can call again. Okay? Derek doesn’t mind. He’ll tell you that I’m real until you believe it.”

She has reason to worry. You’d felt disconnected from reality for hours, and while her being alive is still unbelievable, you feel settled for the first time since she left. “Can you hug me?” you ask, offering her a meagre, well-meaning smile.

She tips your face up. “Can I kiss you first?” she asks tentatively. “I get it if you don’t want me to, but I– think I missed kissing you almost as much as I missed looking at you.”

You settle back against your pillow and nod. “You can kiss me,” you say, glad when she takes the hint, holding herself over your body, and letting her stomach weigh against yours completely. You caress her cheek as she presses her lips against yours.

When you cry, she brushes your tears away, won’t kiss you again until you’re sniffling and begging her for another one. Just one more, you say. You just need one more.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss oneshot #emily prentiss scenario #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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alohajix · 3 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬

Description: when I show up at his door with a college essay and a short skirt, I tell myself it’s just for feedback. But Mr. Styles isn’t my teacher anymore—and the moment his hands find my skin, it’s clear we’re both done pretending.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, strong language, age gap (18 & 35), power imbalance, praise kink, edging, rough sex, hair pulling, light spanking, oral sex (f & m receiving), mirror sex, dirty talk & aftercare. Readers +18.

Words: ~7K.

don't forget about the taglist guys 🔥

requests are open; if you want me to write about something specific, feel free to ask 🫶🏻

*****

I shouldn’t be here. That’s the first thought I have when I step out of the car and onto the quiet suburban street. His house is tucked into the corner lot like it belongs in a magazine—clean lines, tall windows, dark wood paneling. Too perfect. Too intentional. Like him.

I don’t know what I expected. But I didn’t expect to feel this… nervous. The manila folder clutched in my hand is damp from the sweat of my palm. It holds my college essay, which I told myself was the reason for this visit. But even I know that’s a lie. I came here for him. For the man I spent all of senior year stealing glances at. The one I used to fantasize about while pretending I was too focused on Shakespeare to notice the way he rolled his sleeves up or leaned against the edge of his desk.

He never touched me. Never looked at me like that. But something simmered in the space between us. Something unspoken. And now? Now I’m not his student anymore.

I take a breath and ring the doorbell. The door swings open almost immediately. He fills the frame like he owns it—barefoot in dark slacks and a white button-up with the top two buttons undone. His sleeves are rolled, his hair longer than I remember, curling around his temples and behind his ears. He looks older. Sharper. Softer in the eyes, harder everywhere else.

“Hey, trouble.” His voice still has that quiet rasp, smooth and teasing.

My stomach flutters.

“Hi,” I say, a little too breathy. “Hope I’m not too early.”

“Not at all.” His mouth tips up at the corner. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

I smile like this is normal. Like I haven’t been replaying this moment in my head since I messaged him last week asking if he’d read over my essay. He said yes within minutes. Gave me his address and told me to stop by Saturday afternoon. And here I am—dressed in the only outfit that made me feel halfway confident. A soft white tank that hugs the shape of my chest. A dark skirt that hits mid-thigh. He looks at both. Doesn’t hide it.

“I figured I’d stop by and torture you one last time,” I joke.

His brow lifts. “One last time? Sounds like a threat.”

“Or a promise.”

He huffs a low laugh and steps back. “Come in.”

His house smells like cedarwood and clean laundry. It’s open, warm-toned, lived in. No photos on the wall. Just books. Lots of books. Stacked on shelves, under tables, on window sills. I pretend not to be impressed and sit where he gestures—on the couch near the fireplace.

“You want coffee?” he asks, heading toward the kitchen.

“Still drink it black,” I say without thinking.

He glances over his shoulder. “Still remember that?”

“You used to tease me for it.”

“I teased you for a lot of things.” Something in the way he says it makes my breath catch.

He disappears for a moment, and I take the opportunity to look around. The place feels like him—intellectual, quiet, a little mysterious. Like there are layers I’ve never seen. Like maybe I wasn’t wrong about what I thought I felt back then.

He returns with two mugs and hands me one. When he sits down beside me, I notice how close he is. His knee bumps mine. He doesn’t shift away. His cologne wraps around me—spiced, woody, something masculine and soft all at once. He smells like temptation.

“So,” he says, nodding to the folder in my lap. “What literary confession am I about to read?”

I hand it over, trying not to fidget. “It’s open-ended. I panicked and wrote about how literature helped me survive high school. And I might’ve mentioned you.”

He raises an eyebrow but says nothing, flipping it open and beginning to read. The silence stretches. He reads with the kind of focus that used to make my skin itch in the classroom—total, intent, like every word matters. His brow furrows slightly. His thumb rubs the corner of the page as he flips it. I stare at that thumb for too long. When he gets to the third page, he pauses.

“You wrote about The Great Gatsby.”

I nod. “Yeah. You stopped reading that day and asked the class why sadness sounds beautiful when it’s written well.”

His eyes don’t leave the page. “I remember.”

“You said sometimes pain is the only thing that feels honest.”

“I did.”

Silence settles between us again, heavier this time. He closes the folder, sets it on the coffee table.

“You always listened more than the others,” he says.

I shrug. “You always said things that were worth hearing.”

He glances sideways. “You really think so?”

“I wrote a whole essay about it.”

He leans back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch. His fingers graze my shoulder. My pulse skips.

“You look different,” he murmurs. “Grown.”

I glance at him, trying to read the expression on his face. “So do you.”

“Yeah?”

“You used to wear those tweed jackets. The elbow patch kind. Very ‘English professor with a tragic backstory.’”

He laughs. The sound is low and honest and hits me straight in the chest. “God, those jackets were hideous.”

“And now you look like…” I trail off, embarrassed. “Someone who probably writes poetry and breaks hearts for fun.”

He’s watching me too closely now.

“You always were good with words,” he says.

My throat dries. “So were you.”

His eyes flick down. My tank top. The way I’m sitting—ankle hooked over my knee, skirt riding up slightly. His gaze lingers, and this time, he doesn’t look away.

“Shouldn’t be looking at you like that,” he murmurs.

“But you are.”

He turns his head slowly to face me. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am.”

“I should’ve said no.”

“But you didn’t.” Silence.

The air between us pulses. He leans forward slightly, just enough to make my heart race.

“What is it you’re really here for?” he asks. “Because we both know it’s not the essay.”

I swallow hard. My voice shakes. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

He shifts closer. I can feel the heat of his body now. His voice is lower. Rougher.

“You came here wearing that skirt. You knew what it would do to me.”

“I didn’t think—”

“Yes, you did. You’ve always known exactly what you’re doing.” I can’t breathe. “You used to stay after class just to get under my skin,” he says. “Asked questions you already knew the answers to. Sat in the front row like you weren’t the biggest distraction in the room.”

I shake my head, dizzy. “I thought I imagined it.”

He smirks. “You didn’t.” A beat passes. My skin tingles.

His hand reaches up—slow, deliberate—and brushes a loose strand of hair from my face. His fingers trail down, brushing my jaw, then stopping at my chin. He tilts my face toward his.

“I’m giving you one chance to leave,” he says quietly. “Right now. If you stay, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve wanted you too long to pretend anymore.”

I look at him—really look at him. His eyes aren’t teasing anymore. They’re dark. Serious. Wanting.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Say it,” he breathes.

“I want you.” That’s it. That’s the moment everything tilts.

His jaw clenches. His thumb brushes my lower lip. His eyes drop to my mouth, then my chest. Then he leans in so close I can feel the whisper of his breath. But he doesn’t kiss me. Not yet. His mouth brushes mine. Once. Barely there. A breath of a kiss that’s more threat than touch. My heart stumbles, tripping over the moment—over the heat radiating from his body, over the pressure in his fingers where they still rest under my jaw.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he whispers, voice so low I feel it in my stomach. “You know that, don’t you?” I nod. I don’t even blink. His lips ghost against mine again. “Say it.”

“I want you to.” And then he’s on me. Not soft. Not gentle. Just pure, hungry need.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me into the kiss like he’s been starving for it. His other hand grabs my thigh, yanking me toward him on the couch. I gasp against his mouth as my legs fall apart instinctively, one slung over his lap, the other bent awkwardly beneath me. The kiss deepens—tongue, teeth, a low groan that rumbles in his chest. His hand slides beneath my tank top, fingers dragging up my side until he cups my breast over my bra. His thumb brushes my nipple, and I moan into his mouth.

“I knew you’d be loud,” he mutters.

“You don’t know anything yet.”

He pulls back with a wicked grin. “No?”

Then he lifts my shirt. I suck in a breath as he drags the soft cotton up and over my head, eyes fixed on my chest. My bra is thin. Barely there. His gaze darkens.

“Off,” he says simply.

I reach behind me, unhook it, and let the straps fall from my shoulders. The sound he makes isn’t human. His hands come up, palms wide, rough and warm, as he cups both breasts in his hands and leans forward to mouth at one, then the other. His lips wrap around my nipple, sucking hard until I cry out, then he licks it to soothe the sting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groans. “So soft. So fucking pretty.”

My back arches into his mouth, hands gripping his shoulders. When he finally pulls back, my chest is wet and tingling and hot. He doesn’t give me a second to recover. He reaches down and grabs my thighs, pulling me to straddle him. My skirt rides up over my hips. His hands slide up under the hem, gripping my ass hard.

“You’ve been teasing me since you walked in here,” he growls. “You knew exactly what this would do to me.”

I grind down against him, already feeling the thick length of him beneath his slacks.

“I was hoping.”

“You’re gonna pay for that, sweetheart.”

He kisses me again, messier this time. His hands move to the front of my skirt, fingers finding the waistband of my panties. He tugs them down my hips, then slides a hand between my thighs. He groans against my mouth.

“Already soaked,” he whispers. “Dripping. Fuck.”

His middle finger slides through the wetness, finding my clit and pressing there, circling. My hips jerk, and I whimper.

“You like that?” he mutters. “You like me touching you like this?”

“Yes—please—”

“You sound so fucking sweet when you beg.”

He slides one finger inside me, then two. Slow at first. Deep.

“Oh my god—Harry—”

“That’s it. Say my name.”

His fingers curl, and I cry out. My nails dig into his shoulder. He moves faster, thumb back on my clit, relentless and focused. It doesn’t take long. I’m already close, already teetering— And then he stops.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, yanking his hand back. “Not yet.”

I whimper, grinding down helplessly. He holds me still.

“You don’t come until I say so. Got it?” I nod. My whole body is shaking. My thighs are slick. My panties are long gone. “Good girl.”

He shifts suddenly, lifting me off him and standing. He pulls his shirt over his head in one swift motion. I stare at his chest—tattoos and soft muscle and skin I’ve only dreamed about. Then his fingers go to his belt. He undoes it slowly, watching me the entire time.

“You ever been fucked like this before?” he asks, pulling the leather free with a snap. I can’t speak. I just shake my head. He smirks. “Good.”

His pants drop, and then he’s stepping out of them, standing in front of me in nothing but black briefs that do nothing to hide how hard he is. My eyes drop instinctively, and my stomach flips.

“You want a taste?” he asks. I nod. “On your knees.”

I slide off the couch, palms hitting the hardwood. He steps closer. I look up at him, heart pounding, and then he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pulls them down. My breath catches. He’s thick, long, flushed at the tip. Veins trail up the shaft. It’s intimidating—but all I want is to have him in my mouth. He strokes himself once. Twice.

“Open.” I do. “Good fucking girl.”

He slides the tip past my lips, groaning low in his throat. I wrap my hand around the base and suck him slowly, working inch after inch into my mouth. He’s big. Too big to take all at once, but I try. His fingers slide into my hair.

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Taking me so well. That mouth—fuck.” I hum around him, dragging my tongue along the underside. He twitches against my tongue, and I feel him pull out slowly. “Couch,” he rasps. “Now. Face down, ass up.”

I scramble back into position. My knees hit the cushions, chest pressed to the backrest. I feel him behind me, hands on my hips, dragging me back into place.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.

“I need you.”

“You’ll get me.”

He teases me first—rubbing the head of his cock through my folds, smearing wetness along my slit. I moan. And then, without warning, he thrusts into me. I cry out—loud, raw, shocked at how deep he is. He fills me completely.

“Jesus,” he growls. “You’re so fucking tight.” He stills, buried to the hilt. “Take a breath, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

I whimper, clenching around him, and he groans again.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven.” Then he moves.

He pulls out slow, then slams back in, hard. I scream. His hands grip my hips tight, holding me in place as he begins to fuck me in earnest. The couch creaks beneath us. My skin slaps against his with every thrust.

“Listen to that,” he grunts. “You hear how wet you are for me?”

“Yes—Harry—oh my god—”

He leans forward, one hand sliding up my back to my neck. He grabs a fistful of hair, yanks me upright until I’m arching back against him.

“Look at yourself.”

I open my eyes and see us in the wall-length mirror across the room. He’s behind me—glowing with sweat, eyes dark, mouth parted. My body bounces with every thrust, breasts jiggling, mouth open, completely wrecked.

“You see that?” he pants. “That’s mine now.”

“Yours—yours—please—”

“You wanna come?”

“Yes—please, please—”

“Beg for it.”

“Please let me come. I need it, I—I can’t—”

“Good girl.”

He thrusts harder, hand sliding back down to my clit. One tight circle and I fall apart. It hits like a wave—white-hot, unstoppable, all-consuming. My body clenches around him, and I scream. He groans loudly, thrusts once more, and spills inside me with a guttural moan.

We collapse. He falls over me, breath hot on my back, heart pounding against my skin. We stay like that for a long time—pressed together, bodies slick, breath tangled. When he finally pulls out, I wince.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You okay?” I nod.

He scoops me up—literally carries me—into the bathroom. He sits me on the edge of the counter and turns on the faucet, dampening a cloth with warm water. He cleans me slowly, gently. Kisses the inside of my thigh. My knee. My collarbone. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t treat me like a mistake. When he’s done, he wraps me in a towel and pulls me into his lap on the couch. I tuck my face into his neck. His hand strokes my back.

“You really just came here for an essay?” he asks, teasing.

“Maybe I wanted… private lessons.”

He chuckles softly. “Lesson one: don’t wear skirts like that if you want to behave.”

“Who says I wanted to behave?”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, a smirk curling at his lips.

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

“Too late.”

His fingers trail lazily down my spine. I’m curled up on his lap, wrapped in one of his towels, skin flushed and tingling and exhausted in the best possible way. My thighs ache. My mouth is swollen. My body feels like it’s been dragged through a storm and rebuilt softer. He smells like sweat and clean skin and something warm I want to memorize.

Neither of us speaks for a while. There’s no pressure to. His hand just keeps moving—fingertips ghosting over my back, through my hair, along the ridge of my shoulder.

“You okay?” he murmurs eventually, voice low and rough against my temple.

I nod into his neck. “Mmhmm.”

“Still with me?”

“Barely,” I say, and he chuckles.

“That good, huh?”

I shift just enough to peek up at him. His hair is a mess. His lips are red. There’s a faint mark on his collarbone where I bit him by accident. He looks… different. Softer. Proud. Like he just did something sacred.

“You exceeded expectations,” I whisper.

“That’s a relief,” he says dryly. “Thought maybe I was out of practice.”

I roll my eyes and nestle back in. His fingers sweep my hair to one side and press a kiss to my shoulder. My skin buzzes under the weight of it.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks after a pause.

I take a breath. “That I’ve never done anything like that. Not like this.”

“Like what?”

“Where it didn’t feel like just sex.” He stills slightly beneath me.

“Wasn’t just sex,” he says finally. “Not for me.” My stomach does something stupid and slow.

We sit in it for a moment—whatever this is. I don’t know what it means. I don’t care right now. I just want to stay here.

“Also,” I mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.”

His hand slips under the towel to rest on my thigh. “Want me to rub them?”

“Only if you’re trying to start something again.”

He shifts, and suddenly I’m on my back again, towel slipping down to reveal my chest. His eyes darken as they rake over me.

“I always want to start something again,” he murmurs.

I grin. “Insatiable.”

He leans over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other tracing a line from my breast to my hip.

“You know how hard it was back then?” he asks, voice low. “Trying to act like you weren’t driving me mad?”

I blink. “Wait—back then?” He nods slowly.

“I never crossed a line. I never would’ve. But every time you stayed after class… every time you looked at me like you knew…”

“I did know,” I whisper. “I just didn’t think you’d ever admit it.”

He dips down and presses a kiss to my collarbone. Then another, lower.

“I told myself I’d forget you after graduation.”

“Didn’t work?”

“Clearly not.” He kisses between my breasts. “Every time I ran into your name in the gradebook, I remembered your handwriting. The way you used to twirl your pen when you were nervous. The way you’d go quiet when something hit too deep.” His hand slides between my legs. “I remembered wondering what your voice would sound like when you begged.”

My breath catches. “You remember it now?”

He looks up at me from between my thighs, mouth hovering.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll never forget it.”

He leans in and licks a slow stripe through my folds. I gasp—sharp and high-pitched. My body’s still sensitive. Too sensitive. But he doesn’t stop. He spreads my thighs, kisses the inside of each, and starts again.

“Harry—oh god—”

“You’re already shaking.”

“I—can’t—”

“Yes, you can.”

He pushes two fingers inside me, slow but deep. His tongue flicks my clit with soft, relentless pressure, and my hands fly to his curls, tugging hard.

“You’re gonna come again,” he murmurs. “Right on my mouth. Want to taste all of you this time.”

I’m already spiraling. My thighs shake. My hips lift. The pleasure builds fast, sharp, all-consuming— And then I fall apart. It hits different this time. Slower. Deeper. Like falling into something warm and heavy and endless. I cry out his name, sobbing against the towel beneath me. He doesn’t stop until I push weakly at his shoulders.

When he finally pulls back, he kisses my knee and crawls up beside me, brushing sweaty hair from my forehead.

“Still with me?” he teases.

“Barely.”

He grins and kisses me—slow, messy, soft. I taste myself on his tongue and moan into his mouth. When he pulls away, he grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around both of us, tugging me into his chest. We stay there. Breathing. Drifting. I’m not sure how much time passes.

Then I hear him say quietly, “You don’t have to leave right away.”

I look up. “No?”

He shakes his head. “Stay the night. Stay as long as you want.”

I study him for a beat. His eyes are open. Earnest. A little uncertain.

“I want to,” I whisper.

His whole body relaxes under me. Like maybe he was hoping I’d say that more than he wants to admit.

“I still have your essay,” he says with a grin.

“Oh, right,” I tease. “That was the whole reason I came here.”

“Sure it was.”

I smirk. “Are we still pretending you didn’t bend me over the couch?”

He chuckles. “That was a bonus. I take my mentoring responsibilities very seriously.”

“Uh-huh.”

He brushes his lips against mine.

“I meant it,” he says quietly. “Lesson one.”

I raise a brow. “What’s lesson two?”

His voice dips, low and filthy. “How much you can take before you start crying.” My breath catches. He grins. “But that’s for next time.”

*****

@cloudyluun @gem1712

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #masterlist #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry x y/n

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eightmakesonebraincell · 4 months ago

Text

and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky (teaser)

genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 1.6k (teaser) + approx. 37k (full fic)

c/w: slightly aged-up characters, slow burn except it's burning in reverse, lots of medical themes, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic

synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.

a/n: not my titles becoming increasingly longer with each oneshot i write 💀 but this is probably my fave one yet and i hope it slaps when the full fic drops

your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.

you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.

if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.

some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smile before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.

you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”

you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”

“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”

“oh.”

the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.

“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.

you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.

it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.

you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.

the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.

by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.

you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong–hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.

you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.

“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.

your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”

despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.

“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”

your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”

san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”

“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”

you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.

the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.

“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”

you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.

“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”

your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.

nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.

swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”

a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.

mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.

“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”

sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”

you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”

“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.

an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”

another white lie.

before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.

then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.

a third white lie.

but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.

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tbaluver · 10 months ago

Note

hi!! i was wondering if i could ask for some angst with all the guys ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

smthing like mc (gender neutral if possible!) going to a mission and not coming back and the guys' reactions to that ?

ty in advance (≧▽≦)

When You Don't Come Back From Your Mission- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: angst no comfort a/n: hi anonnie! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy ! i'll post a part where mc/ reader comes back from the mission after a long time and maybe that would be a comfort part of this angst reaction (๑>؂•̀๑) i know a couple people from my inbox have requested me to write something about that and i'll get it out soon it's just sitting on my drafts but it'll be out so so soon ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry lovelies i just get distracted a lot any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You and Xavier weren’t assigned to this mission, which was a bummer given how often you two have been always paired for similar tasks. Your extensive training together, countless sparring sessions, and numerous times you two have spent together have created a deep bond and sense of confidence in each other’s skills. Although it was unusual to not be paired in a mission, you both trusted in your abilities and didn’t think much of it.

As he returned from picking up snacks at the convenience store, he walked into the Hunter’s Association office and was struck by the sense of panic that had been overtaken in the room. The frantic energy was evident as he overheard that your team has not given any responses or updates regarding your location. The news hit him like a jolt, nearly causing him to drop the snacks he was holding.

His gentle demeanor shifted to one of deep concern. The usual calmness in his eyes was replaced by a serious and troubled look. His universe felt like it had dimmed, knowing that the brightest star was missing from his grasp.

He demanded immediate access to the latest mission’s location, coordinates, or any relevant information. He insisted that he would take charge of the situation himself and offer no objects as they recognized the intensity in his voice.

He internally blamed himself for not coming sooner. Every path he takes as he travels to find you, only fuels the sense of urgency and concern to find your and ensure your safety.

Zayne:

Zayne has always trusted in your abilities and knew what you were capable of. Each mission, he knew you could handle it with ease and he had faith that you would come back. As always, before he left he would always remind you, “Stay safe and don’t do anything reckless. I don’t want to see you back in my office with another injury.”

Normally, your absences were brief and he would patiently wait for your return, eager to hear the absurd stories of your missions, but this time something felt different. Something he couldn’t quite place. The days dragged on longer than usual and the silence from you was unsettling.

He tried to distract himself with paperwork and tending to patience but his anxiety gnawed at him, thinking of what had happened to you. A mission shouldn’t take this long, especially for someone as skilled as you.

Every day he would send a text and sometimes they were random. Sometimes they were filled with encouragement or updates about small things in his life, in hopes to get a response from you. However, each message he sent was always left unanswered which fueled his growing concern. He began to doubt if you were ignoring him or if something far worse had happened.

Unable to contain his worry any longer, he drove to your house and knocked on your door unannounced. The minutes stretched into an agonizing wait and when there was no response. His heart that had been warmed by your presence has now gripped by icy fear.

Each day he has desperately waited for any responses and any updates from the Hunter’s Association about your well-being. The longer he had to wait, the more he was determined to join the battlefield himself in desperation to find you again.

Rafayel:

Ever since you departed on your mission, he would be counting the seconds, minutes, and days until your return. It’s something he would usually do when you leave for a mission. Time passed by slowly in your absence and he tried to distract himself by visiting the beach or working on new sketches, hoping to find a spark of inspiration for his next piece. Yet, inspiration was difficult when his greatest muse was missing for a few days

A few days. What began to be a few days stretched into a week and more. His concern grew as your silence and absence in his life persisted. Normally, you would have responded to any of his texts or calls even amid the chaos of your missions. But now, this mission was different. His phone never lit up from any notifications from you and your absence gnawed at him.

His distress was evident. His meticulously groomed appearance had unraveled. His hair was disheveled and his outfits mismatched. The studio that was usually a bright haven of creativity had become a reflection of his inner turmoil. The room was shrouded in shadows, and canvases were marred with erratic splashes of paint and frustrated strokes.

'Missing you comes in waves and tonight I am drowning.'

He was spiraling and grew relentless, digging up any lead and rumor of information about your mission. Whatever happened to you, someone was going to pay. He doesn’t care if the bounty on his head catches up to him. He’ll try to find you no matter what, even if it takes him another 800 years.

Sylus:

He knew you were a skilled Hunter so initially he dismissed your absence as just another routine mission. He assumed he would see you again soon in a couple of days and began making plans for the two of you to relax and enjoy when you returned.

However as days turned into a week without any responses to his text or voice messages, his calm demeanor began to crumble. Your status on DeepSpace hadn’t been updated since the last time you had talked and it never showed that you read his messages. His unease deepened when Mephisto reported that he had been unable to locate you.

The growing anxiety and frustrations were impossible for him to contain. He had tried to rush to the location of your mission only to find no trace of you there. His office became a battleground of his conflicted emotions. He cursed himself for being so careless about you.

Luke and Kieran could only witness the storm of anger and worry from a distance. They dared not to approach him during the moments of his intense agitation. They understand as they miss you as well but they could only wish they could do so much to help find you.

He figures he has to take matters into his own hands no matter the cost. Your little Hunter’s Association could only do so much but many do not understand how much power, influence, and resources Sylus has at his disposal. He doesn’t care if he has to get his hands dirty, he will have to do anything to find his little dove back in his arms again.

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nebulablakemurphy · 4 months ago

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Epilogue)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Part 24

In the first months following Peeta’s return things are good. Calm. Until the night Y/N and Haymitch are lying in bed and she whispers, “I’m late.”

Haymitch’s arms tense around her. “No you’re not.”

“My period is late.”

She can’t be pregnant. He’s been careful. Y/N can’t be pregnant. “It’s gotta be something else.”

She sighs, “ok.”

The weeks that follow confirm that it is not, in fact, something else.

August Abernathy is born the following summer, with hardly any fuss. Completing their family and sealing the deal on Haymitch’s vasectomy. The little boy is perfect, Everest and Arista take to him immediately. Daisy takes some convincing, she’s not used to not being the baby.

She cries…a lot. Even at almost two she wants to be carried around. Y/N and Haymitch indulge her, she will only be little for so long.

Katniss and Peeta have settled in to her house in Victor’s village. Nobody knows what to expect in terms of rebuilding district twelve, so they are all surprised when Pollux arrives by train from the Capitol.

“What are you doing here?” Madge stammers, watching anxiously as he scrawls down a message.

“I wanted to see you.” He holds up the note to her.

“But you didn’t say anything in your letter.” The ones they’ve been exchanging over the past few months.

Pollux smirks, moving the pen over the pad of paper again. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Madge laughs, “thank you.”

He opens his arms for her.

“You’re gonna have to teach me to sign.” She insists, hugging him tightly to her. “I’ve been practicing but Katniss told me I’m not very good.”

Pollux passes a hand over her hair, nodding against her shoulder.

“Can you teach me how to sign, ‘I love you.’”

He pulls back slightly, searching her face.

“I love you,” she shrugs, “by the way.”

————————————————————————-

Years pass, everything and nothing changes.

Katniss and Peeta become parents, earning Y/N and Haymitch the titles of Grandma and Grandpa, not long after they become Aunt and Uncle to Madge’s twins.

It heals something in them; holding their babies’ baby. “It’s a girl.”

“Why didn’t you call?” Y/N asks as the infant is placed into her arms. “We could’ve helped you.”

“Didn’t want to bother you.” Katniss shrugs.

“Bothering us is your job.” Haymitch scoffs, “lay down, take a load off, I’ll make you some tea.”

Peeta watches his wife, carefully.

“How are you holding up?” Y/N asks, looking up from the newborn in her arms.

“I’m ok.” Peeta shoots her a tired smile.

Y/N returns the gesture as he takes a seat beside her. “Does my granddaughter have a name?”

“We were hoping you’d help with that part,” Katniss admits. Seems like something parents would help their children do.

Y/N busies herself counting the infant’s fingers, “of course.”

Katniss is snoring by the time Haymitch returns, he lies the throw blanket over her carefully, brushing bits of hair away from her face. “You did good, sweetheart.”

When he is ready Y/N hands over the tiny bundle of joy. “You too, Peeta.”

“Thanks.”

A little boy follows the next spring.

————————————————————————-

Everest graduates high school, leaving soon after to continue his education in politics, in the heart of Panem. The Capitol is much different than when he was a child, still he is welcomed with open arms. A child of war heroes is always welcome.

It’s not until he returns home for the first time that Y/N is sure he knows more than he should. “He knows.”

He knows about their arranged marriage, and the cameras, and the meticulously timing of his conception. He knows all the horrible ways Snow would tug at their strings and make them dance like marionettes. He knows the lengths his parents went to make sure he didn’t know.

“I need to talk to Dad,” Everest tells Y/N, “alone.”

“Honey, I’m so-” Y/N reaches for her son.

“Don’t,” Everest takes a step back. “Please, don’t.”

“Everest.”

He explains, “I can’t look at you and talk about it. I’ll puke, like I did on the professor’s rug when I found out, and I need to talk about it.”

Haymitch sighs, passing a hand over Y/N’s back. “Give us a minute.”

Everest doesn’t miss the way his parents struggle to break apart. Or the way his father attempts to hide the distress caused by his mother’s absence.

“How much do you know?”

Everest crumbles, collapsing into his father’s arms.

Haymitch holds him, hushing his first born child. Wishing more than anything to take his pain away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We hoped you’d never find out.” Haymitch admits, “I’m not sure how it’d be relevant to anything you’re learning in school…”

“The curriculum covers the lives of victors. My professor didn’t know that I didn’t know, he pulled me aside after the lesson to make sure I was ok, given what happened to you and mom.” Everest swallows hard, taking a step back, “I just let him talk for a while. Told me everything I needed to know.”

Haymitch nods.

“Mom was my age when you got married.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I thought you loved each other. I thought you got married and had me because you loved each other.”

“We do love each other.” Haymitch assures him.

It must be true, in all their years back home after district thirteen, his father reached for his mother over a bottle every time. “But that’s not why I’m standing here now.”

“I wish it was different, son. I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I did whatever it took to keep your mother as safe and happy as I could. I tried to do the same for you and it kills me to think that I failed.” Haymitch scrubs a hand over his face. “The games, Snow’s plan, the rebellion and everything thereafter never mattered to us. It never mattered to me. All we wanted was to give you a good, normal life; away from all of it. We got to just be your mom and dad. Those were the happiest years of our lives.”

“My parents are Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy, I’m not ashamed of that.” Everest assures him, “I only wish I could have heard it from you.”

“Me too.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Haymitch lifts a shoulder, “because I am ashamed.”

Everest’s brows furrow, a spitting image of his father, “don’t be.”

When the two of them finally return to the living room there is nowhere to hide from Y/N’s wide, inquisitive eyes. Youth still clings to her features, despite her age. She is heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Daddy, I want to show you something.” August says, immediately rising from his place on the couch.

“Oh yeah?” Haymitch chuckles, allowing his youngest son to lead him away.

“Daisy did it.”

This ought to be good. “What did Daisy do?”

Their banter continues until they are out of earshot, leaving only Y/N and her son.

“You need to tell Arista before someone else does.” Everest says, simply. “Don’t let her find out like that.”

Y/N nods, “you’re right. I should have-”

Everest closes the space between them, pulling his mother in for a hug. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re allowed to be.”

“I’m not, not at you.” He wants to say more, to tell her how sorry he is for every horrible thing that’s ever happened to her. And how grateful he is for all the times she used herself to shield him from the world.

Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy are his parents, and it means more to him now than it ever has.

————————————————————————

“I think we did it.” Haymitch yawns, sliding beneath the covers and enveloping Y/N in his arms. “Everest seems alright.”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing kisses to his fingers.

“I love you, angel.”

“I love you too.”

I love you more.

I love you always.

Series Taglist: @magical-spit @greaser9902 @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @misfits1a @nj01 @thatkindofgurl @solikeapparently @innercreationflower @nicksolemnlyswears @a-sweet-little-fangirl @champomiel @kate654 @maladptivedreamer @rainbow12346 @gabwitch99-blog @theseerbetweenus @prettybiching @izziebreeziel @anneliese500 @scoliobean @mariechristine00 @hoslunix @alitaar @sundawn1990 @hobiebrowns-wife @eibarramendia @the-apprentice-lia @fromsaltandsea @holb32 @sstar-ggirl

#moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy fanfiction #hunger games fanfiction

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skyguytoast · 3 months ago

Text

Swipe Right for Trouble - Dilf!Anakin x you

SYNOPSIS: Dilf!Anakin joins a dating site and comes away with more than he bargained for.

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: +18, infidelity, cheating, age gap (Anakin is in his 40s and the reader is of legal age), sexting, both masturbating over video call, daddy kink

A/N: Hello everyone, this idea came to me out of nowhere and kept on hammering in my mind until I wrote it. I hope you like it, comments, reblogs and suggestions are always appreciated, kisses ;) Dividers by @cafekitsune

Sexting isn’t cheating.

Anakin repeated the thought like a mantra as he filled out the registration form. Technically, this wasn’t even a dating site. From what he’d read, it was more of a… transactional arrangement—an online space where men could chat with young women, spoil them with gifts, and, in return, receive whatever favors both parties agreed upon.

It wasn’t as if his marriage had collapsed overnight. That would have been easier to accept. No, it had been a slow, agonizing unraveling, a gradual drift until the distance between him and Padmé felt impossible to bridge. He couldn’t only blame her long hours at work or the way exhaustion made intimacy rare. He was just as guilty—guilty of giving up, of letting the silence stretch between them for too long, of resigning himself to wanting more but never asking for it.

Regret was useless now.

He exhaled sharply, scrolling through the feed. Most of the profiles were deliberately vague—faceless photos, silhouettes, glimpses of lips, collarbones, and hands. The usernames were just as cryptic, an endless parade of Kitten, Doll, and Baby designed to keep things impersonal.

Then, one caught his eye.

The photo showed nothing but a cascade of silky hair and a princess tiara perched atop it. Something about it—the soft, innocent playfulness—made him pause. Bunny. The name made him smirk. Cute.

A second later, the screen blinked. MATCH.

Anakin’s lips parted slightly. That was… fast. His stomach twisted, fingers hovering over the keyboard. What the hell was he supposed to say? How do you start a conversation like this?

A sharp ding cut through his hesitation.

You had messaged him first.

Anakin rubbed his jaw, still slightly in disbelief that he had actually gone through with this. It wasn't like him to engage in such... base activities. Especially not now. But his marriage had grown so distant, and he needed something—someone—to fill that void.

Just take a deep breath and respond, he told himself as he clicked on your message.

Bunny: Hi there, stranger~

Anakin blinked at the casual greeting, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Stranger? He chuckled softly to himself, realizing that, in this context, that was exactly what you were. Two anonymous figures behind a screen, playing a game neither of you had fully defined yet.

Hi yourself, he typed back, trying to match your easy tone. I like your tiara. It suits you.

The response didn’t come immediately, and in those few seconds, doubt crept in. Was he being too forward? Too personal? Was this a place for compliments, for flirting—or just for transactions?

Bunny: I like shiny things… and pink.

Short. Coy. Playful. The way you phrased it made something tighten in his chest. A flicker of amusement, curiosity, something dangerously close to interest.

I’ll remember that, he replied, his fingers moving with a newfound ease. Do you have a favorite shade of pink?

It was a simple question, innocent on the surface, but it carried weight. He wanted to keep you talking, wanted the conversation to stretch just a little longer. This was a break from reality, from work, from duty. A moment that felt light, free.

Bunny: Uhm… mostly pastel colors… ballerina pink, bubblegum pink.

He was about to type a response when another message popped up.

Bunny: Do you want me to send you the color hex so you don’t get my gift wrong?

Anakin laughed softly at the dig, shaking his head. So you had a sharp wit. He liked that.

No need for that, he typed back. I have a good eye for color. And I’m not planning on buying you a gift just yet.

There. He had said it—acknowledged the possibility of yet, of something more. It was a dangerous game, but one he was suddenly very willing to play.

Unless… He hesitated just long enough to let anticipation build. Unless you’d like to earn one first?

The reply came quicker than he expected.

Bunny: And what exactly do you want from me to deserve it?

A slow smirk spread across his lips. He had a feeling this conversation was only just getting started.

Anakin swallowed hard, a pulse of heat rolling through him at your bold question. He could feel it—something deep and dangerous stirring inside him—but he didn’t look away from the screen. Instead, he leaned in, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he considered his next words carefully.

Well, for starters… He typed slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation stretch. Tell me more about you.

It was a simple request on the surface, but the words carried weight, unspoken possibilities.

What does a cute little bunny like you do for fun?

His lips curled into a smirk as he hit send, already wondering just how far you'd be willing to take this game.

But you didn’t answer right away.

Anakin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Damn it. Maybe that was stupid. Cringe—wasn’t that the word people your age used? The last thing he wanted was to come off like some awkward old man trying too hard.

Before he could spiral further, his screen lit up with a new message.

Bunny: I love going to amusement parks—feeling my hair fly on the roller coaster, the Ferris wheel, the carousel…

Anakin smirked, the tension in his chest easing. There was something so effortlessly sweet about that answer, something playful. Of course you liked amusement parks. He could almost picture it—the wind in your hair, the sparkle in your eyes as you laughed on a ride.

And just like that, he wanted to know more.

Is that so? he typed back, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I'll have to keep that in mind. Maybe I'll take you to a park sometime... among other things.

He paused, letting that statement linger on the screen. Let you wonder, let your imagination run wild. He certainly knew his was.

Tell me, do you have a favorite ride? he asked. One that really gets your adrenaline pumping?

Bunny: Probably the Ferris wheel, I love going there several times... I'm a little scared of the ghost train, however, I might try it if you promise to hold my hand.

A light blush crept across Anakin's cheeks as he read her message, a small smile tugging at his lips. Of course, a Ferris wheel was your favorite. He could picture it now—you sitting beside him, your shoulders brushing as you slowly rotated at the top, looking out over the park and the rest of the world spread out below you.

Don't worry, he typed, his fingers moving almost eagerly across the screen. I'd hold your hand through anything.

He paused, then added playfully, Besides, I think I'm pretty good at killing ghosts. Both the real kind and the fictional ones.

Your response was immediate.

Bunny: Oh, that’s good to know because I think my room might be haunted. Maybe you could come take a look?

Anakin sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. Gosh, you’re being so flirty.

Not that he minded. Not one bit.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to read your flirtatious message again. His smirk grew wider.

Well then, he replied, a playful lilt to his words. It looks like I'll have to schedule an investigation soon.

He paused, letting the innuendo linger for a moment. But he didn't stop there.

Of course, you know that ghost hunting can be quite...intense work. It may require a thorough search of every room. Every surface.

He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. There was something about you, a freshness and boldness that drew him in.

Bunny: in my bed too? even under the covers?

Anakin's heart raced as he read your brazen message, a flood of improper thoughts rushing through his mind. The image of you tangled in the sheets, perhaps already flushed and breathless before he even arrived, was too much to ignore.

Especially under the covers, he typed back, not holding anything back. You never know where a ghost might hide, after all. I'll have to search everywhere, just to be safe.

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. Then added one final line.

And I'll make sure to check every inch thoroughly. For any...abnormalities.

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

As the days passed, your messages became more frequent, more daring. What started as playful teasing had turned into something else—something charged, something electric.

The flirting was relentless, a slow, delicious game neither of you wanted to stop. Anakin knew he was toeing the line, but God help him, he didn’t care. You were intoxicating—the way you teased him, the way you played innocent one moment and wicked the next.

And every time his screen lit up with a new message from you, he felt that same rush, that same heat pooling low in his stomach.

You had him hooked.

He knew he should put an end to this, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was like a drug, a dangerous high he didn't want to come down from.

Tell me... he paused, his fingers hesitating for only a moment. What do you usually sleep in at night? Or out of...

Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as the image loaded. The dim light of his quarters cast an intimate glow across his face, a face flushed with a growing heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. He leaned in closer, squinting to make out every exquisite detail of the photo, his eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin of your shoulders, the way the thin strap of your nightgown clung precariously to your frame.

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched, almost in slow motion, the strap slipping ever so slightly. He felt his mouth go dry, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as anticipation built inside him like a palpable force. And then, like a revelation, he caught sight of the swell of your breast, the tantalizing curve that promised so much more if only he could see just a little further.

Bunny: do you like to see more?

Fuck, he breathed, his voice low and rough with desire. I'd love to see more.

You send another message.

Anakin's heart raced as he stared at the image on his screen, his breath growing ragged. The sight of you kneeling there, clutching at the fabric of your nightgown, teasing him with a glimpse of the lace barely covering your butt, sent a jolt of lust straight to his aching cock.

Sweetheart, you're playing with fire, he typed, his fingers trembling slightly as they flew over the keys. Keep this up and I might just burn in the flames.

He palmed himself through his pants, unable to ignore the growing bulge that strained against the confines of his clothing. The urge to touch himself was overwhelming, but he resisted. He wanted to savor this moment, to draw out the delicious torture of anticipation.

What else do you want to show me? he asked. Where else would you like my eyes to wander?

Bunny: Uhm, I don't know, maybe you could buy me a lingerie set to wear just for you

Anakin's eyes darkened with lust as he read your suggestion, his mind racing with the possibilities. The idea of you modeling lingerie just for him, a matching set in a soft, delicate shade of pink, was almost too much to bear.

I think I'd like that very much, he replied. What color would you prefer? I'm thinking something soft and sexy, maybe a shade of pink to match your sweet smile.

He palmed himself more firmly through his pants, his cock throbbing beneath his touch. The urge to whip out his length and stroke himself to completion was strong, but he held back, wanting to make this moment last.

And maybe... he paused, letting the anticipation build. You could send me a picture of what you'd look like in it. Give me a little preview of what's to come.

Bunny: you know my address to send

Anakin couldn't keep the grin off his face as he hit the 'Confirm Purchase' button, his heart racing with anticipation. He had splurged on the most beautiful lingerie set he could find—the perfect shade of bubblegum pink, soft and shimmery, with delicate lace detailing. He couldn't wait to see it clinging to your curves, highlighting every inch of your gorgeous body.

I took your suggestion and one upped it, he typed, smirking to himself. It should be arriving at your doorstep tomorrow. I hope you like it as much as I think you will.

He paused, his mind already filling with the filthy images of your modeling it just for him.

Send me a picture as soon as you put it on. I want to see how stunning you look.

The next day, the first message was from you.

Bunny: Oh baby, I love it, give me a minute to put on my lingerie and we can do a video call

Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he read your response. A video call—that would be even better than any photo. He could see you, really see you, in the lingerie he had bought just for you.

I can't wait to see you in it, he typed back, his fingers shaking slightly. Meet me on a video call in 5 minutes.

He ended the message with a winking emoji, his mind already racing with the possibilities. The room was dim, the lighting soft and intimate, perfect for a private show. He could already picture you, perched on the edge of your bed, the pink lace clinging to your curves in all the right places.

Anakin took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He had to get his head in the game, had to remember that this was just a bit of fun, a distraction from his marriage's problems and the weight of his responsibilities. It didn't mean anything.

But even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. This meant something, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on what. All he knew was that he wanted more of you, and he would do whatever it took to get it.

Anakin locked the bedroom door, exhaling slowly as he leaned against it. He mentally thanked Padmé for the extra shift—how ironic. Not long ago, her long hours had been a source of frustration, the widening gap between them something he resented.

And yet here he was, grateful for the distance.

Grateful for the excuse.

His fingers hovered over his phone, anticipation thrumming through him. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He knew this was dangerous.

But when your name lit up his screen, all reason faded.

Anakin took a deep breath as he tapped the button to accept the video call, his heart pounding in his chest. The screen flickered to life, and there you were—stunning, breathtaking, even more gorgeous than he had imagined.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, clad in the lingerie he had purchased just for this moment. The soft pink lace clung to every curve, highlighting the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the tempting flare of your hips. It was everything he had hoped for and more.

“Fuck, you look incredible,” he breathed, his voice low and rough with desire. “That color was made for you.”

He couldn't take his eyes off you, drinking in every detail. The way the lace seemed to shimmer in the soft light, the way it hinted at the treasures hidden beneath. He felt his cock twitch and harden, straining against the confines of his pants.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he instructed, his voice a low command. “Let me see all of you.”

You smiled amusedly. "Like this" you said happily, turning to show every bit of your skin to him.

Anakin's breath caught in his throat as you spun around, putting yourself on display just for him. The way the lingerie clung to your every curve was mesmerizing, the delicate lace accentuating your breasts, your toned belly, the gentle flare of your hips, and the tantalizing globes of your ass. He couldn't look away, his eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of exposed skin.

“Fuck, you're stunning,” he breathed. “I can't believe I bought that just for you. You look good enough to eat.”

He palmed himself through his pants, unable to ignore the ache of his hardening cock. The urge to reach down and free himself was overwhelming, but he resisted—for now. He wanted to savor this moment, to drink in every detail of your heavenly beauty.

“Lie back on the bed for me,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “Spread your legs, and show me what's mine.”

"Oh, baby, you're so bossy," you retorted softly, before biting your lower lip mischievously, adjusting your phone before approaching the bed. "But, I kind of like your dominant ways."

Anakin felt a thrill run through him at your playful words, his cock twitching in approval. He loved seeing this side of you, bold and teasing, more than eager to obey his every command. It was intoxicating, addictive, and he knew he could easily become drunk on the power.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble as he watched you adjust your phone and get in the bed. “You're going to be so perfect for me.”

He drank in the sight of you settling onto the mattress, the soft pink lace a stark contrast against the white fabric. His heart raced as you slowly spread your legs, revealing more of your smooth, creamy thighs, the lace of your panties riding up to showcase the junction between your legs.

“That's it, sweetheart. Nice and slow,” he encouraged, his eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a single second of your tantalizing display. “Show me everything you have to offer.”

Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you slip your delicate hand beneath the lace, his cock throbbing almost painfully against his pants. The sight of you touching yourself, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, was almost too much to bear. He could see the growing damp spot on your panties, evidence of your arousal, and it made him ache to be the one to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.

“You're so beautiful like this,”he breathed, his voice rough with desire. “Don't stop touching yourself. I want to watch you.”

He couldn't tear his eyes away from your hand moving beneath the fabric, imagining how soft and smooth your folds were, how wet and ready you were becoming. His own hand drifted down to palm himself more firmly through his pants, squeezing and stroking along the hard length of his cock.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded, his voice a low, urgent growl. “Describe it to me in detail. I want to know everything.”

"I'm so wet for you, my fingers are slipping so easily" you whimpered, touching yourself, sighs of pleasure escaping your mouth.

Anakin groaned as he listened to your breathy words, the sound of your pleasure shooting straight to his aching cock. He could picture your fingers gliding effortlessly through your slick folds, your body responding to your own touch, preparing itself for him. The knowledge that he was the cause of your arousal was intoxicating, fueling his own desire.

‘Is that so?” he growled, his hand drifting to the fastenings of his pants. “I can hear how much you're enjoying yourself. How wet you're getting just from my command.”

He popped open the button of his pants, freeing his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and hard, the head already glistening with precum. He wrapped a hand around his throbbing shaft, squeezing and stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your breathy sighs.

“Touch your pretty pussy, baby,” he ordered, his voice a low, dominating rumble. “Rub those pretty little circles around it, nice and slow. Pretend it's my fingers touching you, pleasuring you.”

"Your fingers are so much bigger than mine, they would feel so good in my pussy," you whimpered.

Anakin's breath grew ragged as he listened to the obscene sound of your fingers plunging in and out of your dripping cunt, your sweet little whimpers and sighs filling the air. His cock throbbed and leaked in his hand as he picked up the pace, stroking himself faster in time with the slick sounds of your touching.

“Fuck, I'd love to sink my fingers deep inside your tight little pussy,” he groaned, his voice strained with lust. “To feel your velvety walls squeezing around me as I pump in and out.”

He could only imagine how perfect you would feel, how hot and wet and ready you would be for him. His cock ached with the desire to plunge into your depths, to stretch you open and claim you as his own.

“Slick your clit with your juices,” he commanded, his breath coming faster now. “Get it nice and wet, just like your hungry little hole. Pretend it's my tongue, teasing and circling as I taste your sweet cum.”

You moaned, your hair spreading across the sheets as you rubbed yourself harder. "tell me what to do, tell me what your good girl needs to do?"

Anakin's heart raced as he watched you come undone on the screen, your hair splayed across the sheets, your hips rocking against your hand as you rubbed yourself with wanton desperation. Your breathy moans and whimpers filled his ears, spurring on his own desperate stroking.

"You're being such a good girl for me," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Touching yourself just like I told you to. So eager and obedient."

He could see how soaked your panties were, the lace darkened with your juices, your pussy aching to be filled. His cock throbbed in his fist, the head flushed a deep, angry red, leaking steadily now.

"Take off your bra," he ordered, his voice a commanding rumble. "I want to see your perfect tits bouncing free. Play with your nipples as you fuck yourself with your fingers."

Anakin's breath caught in his throat as he drank in the perfect sight of your breasts spilling free from your bra, the delicate pink of your nipples a perfect match to the lingerie that hugged your curves. They were even more beautiful than he had imagined, full and round, the peaks already hardened into tight little buds just beginning to be touched.

"Your tits are perfect," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Even better than I dreamed they would be."

He tightened his grip around his throbbing cock, pumping himself faster as he watched you on the screen. The sight of you touching yourself, playing with your dripping cunt and your perfect breasts, was almost too much to bear.

"Pinch your nipples," he commanded, his voice a low, dominating growl. "Roll and tug on them, just like I would with my fingers. Imagine it's my mouth, my teeth grazing the sensitive flesh."

He could only imagine the taste of you, the feeling of your hardened nubs against his tongue as he sucked and teased, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. His cock throbbed in his hand, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he watched you pleasure yourself just for him.

With one hand you squeezed your breast, pinching the nipple until it hardened completely, without ever stopping touching yourself. "Uhm, talk dirty to me, tell me what you're doing, what my body makes you feel."

Anakin groaned as he watched you touch yourself with wild abandon. "I'm stroking my hard, aching cock as I watch you. Watching you play with your perfect tits, squeezing and pinching those pretty pink nipples until they're stiff peaks."

"I can feel every inch of you, even from here. The way your tight little pussy clenches around your fingers as you fuck yourself, so desperate for more. The way your breasts bounce and jiggle as you touch yourself, just the way I want to touch them."

He pumped his cock faster, the slick sounds of his stroking filling the air. "I'm imagining burying my face between your legs, my tongue delving deep into your sweet cunt. Licking up every drop of your juices, fucking you with my tongue until you scream."

"I want to bite down on your nipples, to mark you as mine. I want to suck and tease until you're writhing beneath me, begging for more. Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he growled, his breath ragged and intense. "What does my good girl need?"

"I want to cum, daddy." You whimpered, confused in your haze of pleasure, taking a few seconds to realize what had slipped from your tongue.

"Daddy?" Anakin retorted, his deep voice filling your room and making you open your eyes, your cheeks flushing.

Anakin froze, his heart pounding in his chest as the words echoed in his ears. Daddy. It had slipped out, a moment of unguarded passion and desperation. For a moment, he felt a pang of unease, a flicker of doubt. This was wrong, he knew it was. He was crossing a line, one that he shouldn't be crossing.

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you mumbled nervously.

But as he looked at you on the screen, flushed and panting, your gorgeous body on display just for him, he felt his resolution crumble. He wanted you, more than anything. And if you wanted to call him daddy, if that's what got you off...

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," he soothed, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "I like it. I like it a lot."

He stroked himself slower, more deliberately, putting on a show for you. "Tell me what you want daddy to do to you."

He wanted to hear you say it, to put voice to the filthy, forbidden thoughts running through your mind. He wanted to be the one to bring you to the edge, to make you scream and shake and cum harder than you ever had before.

"Beg for it, baby. Beg daddy to make you cum."

"Please, daddy, I want to cum so bad, I want you to guide me, let your voice take me to heaven" you whine, feeling the descent of your hips warming up.

Anakin's heart raced as he listened to your desperate pleas, his cock throbbing and pulsing in his hand. The way you said daddy, the need and longing in your voice, it set him on fire. He stroked himself faster, the slick sounds of his hand pumping his shaft filling the room.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg for it like that," he groaned, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Like a needy little girl begging her daddy to take care of her."

He could feel your desperation, the way your hips were rocking and grinding against your fingers, chasing your climax. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to feel your cunt clench and flutter around his cock as he fucked you into oblivion.

"Focus on my voice, baby. Let it guide you, take you higher," he commanded, his breath coming faster now. "Imagine it's my hands on your body, touching and stroking every inch of you."

"Fuck yourself harder, sweetheart. Shove your fingers deep inside your greedy little cunt. Imagine it's my cock, stretching you open, filling you up." Anakin murmured, his voice husky and engaging. "Let yourself go, baby. Cum for daddy. Cum all over your fingers like the good little girl you are. Let me hear you scream."

Anakin grunted and shuddered as he watched you come undone, your body convulsing on the screen as the intense waves of your climax crashed over you. The sound of your scream, raw and primal, filled the air as you cried out his name, your pussy clenching and fluttering around your fingers in ecstasy.

"Fuck yes, that's it! Cum for daddy, baby! Cum hard on your fingers like a good girl," he roared, his own orgasm surging through him as he stroked himself to completion. Thick ropes of hot, sticky seeds erupted from his cock, spurting onto his hand and stomach as he rode out the intense pleasure.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, drinking in every second of your pleasure, the way your gorgeous tits bounced and jiggled as you writhed and bucked beneath your own touch. He felt a surge of male pride and possessiveness, knowing that he had brought you to such heights of ecstasy.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he breathed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Such a perfect, perfect good girl for daddy."

"And this is just the beginning, sweetheart. Wait until I get my hands on you for real."

"I'll wait, daddy," you whimpered, your eyes blinking back to focus on his face after your mind-blowing orgasm. "I'll count the days until it happens."

Anakin's heart raced as he heard your breathless promise, a thrill running through him at the thought of the forbidden future that lay ahead. The knowledge that you would be waiting for him, eager and ready, made his spent cock twitch and started to fill and harden once more.

"I'll be counting down the days too, baby girl," he murmured. "Already thinking about all the naughty, filthy things I'm going to do to this sexy little body of yours."

He took in the sight of you, flushed and panting, your skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat from your intense climax. The lingerie you wore, the lingering desire for you... it was all seared into his mind, a deliciously sinful memory to treasure.

"But for now, you should get some rest, sweetheart. Recover your strength. Because when I finally have you in my arms, I'm going to need you at your best. I'm going to fuck you in ways you've never been fucked before."

He reached out to caress the screen, wishing he could feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. "Sweet dreams, my little girl. Dream of daddy, and all the dirty, wonderful things we're going to do together."

"Until next time," he promised darkly, before ending the call with a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #anakin x reader #hayden christensen x reader #dilf!anakin #dilf!anakin x you

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cherubkissesx · 3 months ago

Text

entwined

this a part two to this !!

pairing: spencer reid x bau! f reader

content: fluff! sick reader, domestic spencer!!, secret relationship

summary: reader returns back to work after being sick, however she returns to everyone relenting teasing her and spencer!!

you awake with the sun shining directly into your eyes which you would usually hate but seeing as it was officially spring you were more than happy with that. you feel something gripping your waist and you finally turn your head to the side to see a sleeping spencer sprawled across your bed while you were shoved into a tiny corner.

you smile at the memory from the night before when he woke you up because he was worried and needed to come over and see you. you scan your eyes all over his perfect face you reach out and trace his sculpted cheekbones with your finger. “not fair” you faintly whisper. “i’ve been awake this whole time” spencer smirks. “idiot” you smile and slap him lightly on the arm.

spencer moves and suddenly sweeps you up into his arms and pulls you tight against him. you instantly soften in his arms feeling the safest you’ve ever been in your life.

“we should really get up” you finally say. “5 more minutes” spencer whines into the crook of your neck. “we’ve been here all night” you laugh while you sit up. “you’re going into work today?” spencer asks getting up with you and instantly makes your bed for you.

“i’m already feeling ten times better. turns out all i needed was some sleep and cuddles” you smile sweetly at him to which he comes to your side and places a tender kiss on your lips.

you finally pick up your phone to check the time to which you only had an hour before you were due in work, however a certain notification catches your eye. “what’s this?” you say out loud. you click on the text message from penelope which was sent an hour ago. the text message was a photo of you and spencer asleep together.

you instantly gasp and begin to panic. “what is it?” spencer says instantly becoming alarmed at the sudden change in you. you turn your phone around to him but instead of spencer being panicked he laughed.

“this isn’t funny!” you say in a panic while flitting around your room hurriedly shoving clothes on. “they know about us now!” you say.

“maybe that isn’t such a bad thing?” spencer says taking your hands in his. “hotch would kill us if he found out” you say. “and then we’d be put on different units! oh god!” you said nervously pacing as all the possible scenarios race through your mind.

“come on it’s hotch! he’s been our boss for years he won’t care” spencer says. “you can’t help the people you love.” spencer confesses and you stop immediately. “you love me?” you say as your clutch your hand over your heart. “of course i do” spencer says planting a kiss to your forehead.

“i love you too nerd” you said shyly.

—-

“let’s walk in separately” you say. “okay but it’s not going to make a difference if penelope and derek already know” spencer shakes his head.

spencer enters first and you enter a little behind him and everyone in the room stares at you two. you tuck your hair behind your ear and plant your stuff down at your desk.

“can i help you?” you say to no one in particular. “no no” jj says sarcastically. “okay…” you trail off and sit down.

“spencer you’re wearing the exact same outfit as yesterday man!” emily says to which spencer’s cheeks instantly flush red and you snicker.

“i do have a washing machine emily!” spencer says. “right” emily says.

“are you feeling better?” jj asks. “yes i feel a lot better thank you for asking.” you smile. “i bet you do” emily smirks and you narrow your eyes at her.

“okay come on out with it, how could you hide this! i get hotch but us??!!” emily says in disbelief to which you finally gave in. “you ran your mouth!” you say accusingly to derek. “hey! it wasn’t me it was penelope but anyways answer emily’s question!” derek says.

“we were going to tell you eventually!” you say in a weak defence for you and spencer.

“how long have you both been in a relationship?” jj asks. you and spencer both look at eachother. “around about 5 months ish” you both say guilty. “5 months?!” emily says in shock. “we were just figuring stuff out!” you say.

“by the way, we all saw the picture.” jj laughs right as penelope enters the room which you shoot her a death stare to which she walks right back out of the room with both hands held up in the hair.

“even hotch?!” you panic. “even me.” hotch says coming out of his office with the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

#bau x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader

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youngsadlesbian · 4 months ago

Note

helloooo!

i have a request for avenger!wanda and doctor!reader wherein wanda comes home from a mission late at night and comes home to reader sleeping on their bed. she thinks it’s just a normal night, until her phone is flooded with messages in the morning as her phone was automatically connected to their wifi. the messages were reader asking where wanda was, because it was their anniversary.

reader ignores her in the morning since she hasn’t been home in awhile, not even for their anniversary. theeeeeen, wanda makes it up to her when she gets home! basically hurt/comfort and angst angst angst.

thank yew!

- 🍂

BETWEEN LOVE AND DISTANCE | wanda maximoff x doctor!reader

summary: wanda returns home late from a mission, exhausted and unaware she missed your anniversary. the distance between you grows, and she desperately tries to fix what she broke.

a/n: thanks for the request. hope u like it!

word count: 1,1k

warnings: angst but with a happy ending.

The apartment was quiet. Unbearably so.

You sat curled up on the couch, your phone clutched in your hand. The dim glow of the screen was the only source of light in the darkened room, illuminating the unread messages you had sent hours ago.

"Wanda, where are you?" "Did you forget what today is?" "I’ve been waiting all night."

You swallowed hard, blinking against the burning in your eyes as you stared at the time. 1:32 AM.

She wasn’t coming.

You had spent the entire day convincing yourself otherwise.

You had left work early, picked out a dress Wanda always said she loved on you, cooked her favorite meal, and even bought a small cake—because today was supposed to be special.

Your anniversary.

One year together. One year of love, laughter, and promises whispered into the night.

But Wanda hadn’t shown up.

No call. No message. Nothing.

You had tried to be understanding. She was an Avenger, after all. Missions came up. Emergencies happened. But this was different. This wasn’t just any other night.

This was supposed to be your night.

By midnight, the hope had drained from you completely.

You blew out the candle on the untouched cake, packed away the dinner you had made, and slipped into bed alone, your heart aching with something heavier than disappointment.

And then, at 1:45 AM, the front door finally creaked open.

You didn’t move.

Wanda’s footsteps were soft as she entered the bedroom. She let out a tired sigh as she shrugged off her jacket, then paused when she noticed your still form beneath the covers.

She smiled softly, thinking it was just another late night after a mission. She climbed into bed, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before whispering, "I love you."

But you didn’t stir.

And she didn’t yet realize that you were wide awake, staring at the wall, too hurt to acknowledge her presence.

When Wanda woke up the next morning, she reached out instinctively—only to find the bed empty.

She frowned, sitting up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The apartment smelled like coffee, but there was no usual morning greeting, no kiss to start the day.

Confused, she reached for her phone—only to freeze when she saw the screen.

37 unread messages.

Her heart sank as she scrolled through them.

"Happy anniversary." "I made dinner. It’s your favorite." "Where are you?" "Wanda?" "Did you forget?"

Guilt crashed over her like a tidal wave.

She threw the covers off and hurried out of the bedroom, her eyes immediately landing on you standing by the counter, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

You didn’t look at her.

"Baby," Wanda started, voice thick with regret, "I—"

"You forgot," you interrupted, your tone flat.

Her chest tightened. "I didn’t mean to—"

"That doesn’t change the fact that you did."

Wanda took a cautious step closer. "Let me explain—"

You let out a small, humorless laugh, finally meeting her gaze. "Explain what, Wanda? That you were too busy to remember? That I waited all night for you to come home to me, only to realize that I wasn’t even a thought in your mind?"

Wanda’s face crumpled. "That’s not true."

You took a slow breath, shaking your head. "I just… I just needed you to be here."

Silence stretched between you.

Then, with a quiet sigh, you placed your coffee down and grabbed your bag.

"I have to go to work," you muttered, walking toward the door.

Wanda reached out, as if to stop you, but you stepped out before she could.

And then she was alone.

Wanda spent the entire day thinking about how much she had let you down.

The memory of your expression haunted her—the pain in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked ever so slightly when you had said, I just needed you to be here.

She had never seen you like that before.

Never once had you shut her out like this. Never once had she been the one responsible for that kind of pain in your eyes.

So, when evening came, Wanda knew she had to do more than just apologize.

She had to show you.

When you arrived home that night, the apartment was different.

Candles flickered along the shelves and dining table. The scent of your favorite meal filled the air. Soft music played in the background, the same playlist Wanda had made for you months ago.

Your breath caught as you took in the sight.

And then, there she was—standing in the middle of it all, surrounded by red roses, her hands clasped together nervously.

You hesitated, gripping the strap of your bag as you met her gaze.

Wanda swallowed hard before speaking.

"I messed up," she said softly.

You said nothing, waiting.

"I should have been here. I should have remembered. And the worst part is, I hurt you." Her voice wavered. "I never want to be the reason you feel like you don’t matter to me. Because you do. You always do."

Your throat tightened, but you held your ground. "Wanda, I know your work is important. I know that sometimes you have to put the world first. But last night… I needed to know that I mattered too."

Her eyes filled with regret. "You do. You’re my home. And I hate that I made you feel otherwise."

She took a careful step closer.

"Please, let me make it up to you."

You let out a slow breath, scanning the effort she had put into the night—the dinner, the roses, the candlelit warmth of the apartment.

After a moment, you nodded.

Relief flooded Wanda’s face.

She led you to the table, pulling out your chair before sitting across from you. As you took the first bite, the taste of your favorite meal melting on your tongue, Wanda reached across the table and took your hand in hers.

"I love you," she whispered.

And this time, you squeezed her hand back.

"I love you too."

After dinner, Wanda pulled you into the living room, where she swayed you gently to the rhythm of the music.

You sighed into her embrace, the last of your anger slipping away as her warmth surrounded you.

"You really felt bad about it, huh?" you murmured against her shoulder.

Wanda groaned. "I felt awful. I still do."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at her. "I’m still upset, you know."

"I know." She cupped your cheek, brushing a thumb across your skin. "But I also know that I’ll spend forever making sure you never feel like that again."

You searched her face, finding only sincerity. Devotion. Love.

And for the first time in twenty-four hours, your chest felt light again.

So, you smiled softly and whispered, "You’re lucky I love you, Maximoff."

A smirk tugged at her lips as she leaned in. "Believe me, I know."

And as she kissed you, slow and lingering, you knew that—despite everything—you would always find your way back to each other.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #mcu

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thejadevvitch · 4 months ago

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Dōna Rūs Mandia (Sweet Baby Sister)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister! reader

Sumary: Aemond was the best brother in Westeros. Since they were children he would dote on her. Buying her gifts, making her smile when she was sad, and he would even sneak into her chambers at night and sleep with her if she needed it. What happens when their mother Alicent informs her daughter of a betrothal?

Warnings: Mature/Sexual content, 18+, no use of Y/N, afab reader, Oral (F receiving), squirting, overstimulation, emotional manipulation

Princess Aelora Targaryen was the fourth born child of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. Long silver hair that cascades so far down her back it reaches her thighs. Born before her brother Daeron. The Princess was born and raised in Kings Landing amongst her siblings. Her eldest brother Aegon didn't pay her much mind until she started to develop. Unlike her sister Helaena she had more of a curvy figure which Aegon would practically drool over when close. Helaena was a good sister and Aelora in turn. Deciding to try and interpret her sisters rambles knowing they were a message. A warning. She knew this ever since the night on Driftmark. "He'll have to close an eye." Daeron was away in Oldtown and the letters became less and less as time went on. Aemond on the other hand was an extraordinary brother. Like her elder brother Princess Aeloras egg did not hatch in the cradle leaving her open to ridicule from Aegon when he felt like it. Though it was less often for her than Aemond, it was something that they shared. As children Aemond was an attentive older brother. Back rides through the castle, stealing cinnamon cakes from the kitchens to gift to his sweet baby sister knowing they're her favorite, tickle fights. He would even use Maegors Tunnels in the dead of night to sneak into Aeloras chambers to check on her as she slept. Sometimes catching himself watching over her for hours. After the events on Driftmark he seemed different. He still doted on Aelora but it seemed quite possessive some would say. His now lone eye never trailing far from where she is. Everyone noticed where ever the Princess was her shadow wasn't too far behind her. Watching to make sure his sweet sister was safe. When she started to develop as a woman and he a man his obsession only grew. His urges threatened to spill over and corrupt his sense of honor and duty. Believing that she would be his one day he patiently waited for his mother to announce their betrothal. But it did not unfold like he thought it would.

Princess Aelora and her brother Aemond were flying on Dragonback for hours. Another way Aemond has supported his sister was by helping her claim a dragon of her own. Silverwing, the dragon formerly ridden by Queen Alysanne Targaryen. Wife of King Jaehaerys. Aemond lived for the faint sounds of his sweet sister laughing as she broke through clouds with Kings Landing just on the horizon. A race between the two with Aemond emerging victorious touching down in the Kingswood. Since Vhagar was too large to land near the city Aemond had left a horse tied to a branch for their return.

"I believe that is another win for me little love." Aemond said as he stuck out his hand to assist her from her dragon. Aelora took her brothers hand and giggled, "No need to be so vaunt big brother." Jumping down off silverwings wing she starts to move immediately towards the horse but is stopped by Aemond who's still holding her hand. He pulls her into his body with a scolded gaze. "Ah ah ah. Daor sīr adere byka mēre. Nyke won. Nyke jaelagon issa gūrotrir. Skoriot's issa vūjigon?" (Not so fast little one. I won. I want my prize. Where's my kiss?)

He says grabbing her other hand to bring her closer. Aelora looks up into her brothers eyes through her lashes while blush takes over her features. She then tilts her head and raises herself on her toes to kiss his cheek to then be stopped once more by her brother. "What're you doing?" He asked her in an accusatory tone making her flinch. The stare of Aemond Targaryen was enough to kill. And right now that stare was being used on the Princess. He leans in without breaking his gaze and spoke. "I won. You do as I say. And I said. Kiss me." Without giving her time to think he captures her lips with his in a passionate and yet forceful manner. Both moaning into the kiss Aelora is the one to pull back first looking around. "What if someone sees us?" She said when Aemond tried to embrace her once more. "Who? Who's here little love? Tell me." He says. "No one is here but us and our dragons. You must trust me sister." He continued with a painful tone. Striking his sisters heart. "I do! I.. I.. I do! I swear it." Aemond allowed a small smirk to play onto his face at his sisters words. But more importantly how eager she was to prove herself to him. Gently he took her chin between his thumband index finger, lifting her head to meet his gaze. He studied her features as he has thousands of times. "I know whats best." He said. To this Aelora knew to nod her head in agreement. Her eyes... The most soft lilac hue staring back at him. Her lips that were practically screaming for him to bite them. He drank her in as the vision of the maiden herself. "Be good and give your big brother a kiss. Now." Aelora was the one this time who initiated the kiss. Though it was not as possessive as his. It was still a feeling that sent a warmth to her lower belly. Something she had felt around her beloved brother for a while now. But she could not bring herself to understand. Nor can can she ask. Aemond hung onto her lips for as long as he could before it broke. And it was a taste he wanted to enjoy everyday.

Later that evening the siblings were all informed of a family dinner taking place and attendance was mandatory. These didn't usually happen unless there was some grand news to share. Aelora took a scolding bath using her favorite vanilla oils before she was dressed and ready for supper. When it was finally time to make her way to the dining hall a knock at her door caught her attention. Of course it was he. Aemond. "Are you ready?" He asked as he extends his arm for her to take to which she does. Aemond practically drinks up her scent. Burying his nose behind her ear making her shiver as he inhaled. Ao yknagon delicious rūs mandia. (You smell delicious baby sister)

Once they enter hall they take their seats. "I assume father will not be in attendance this evening?" Aelora asks her mother as she took her seat at the end of the table across from Aemond. Alicent and Otto on one side of the table, across from them Aegon and Helaena, leaving Aemond and Aelora on both ends of the table per Aemonds insistence. Every time she'd look up from her plate she would face the stare of her big brother.

During these suppers Aemonds eye would never fall from his beloved sister. Time passed and conversation was a bit stagnant. That was until Alicent spoke up. "My dear girl. I have wonderful news. I have received word from Lord Tyrell. His eldest son Ser Loris has taken interest. And after discussing this with the King-" Aemond slammed his fist into the table making Aelora jump at the other end. "NO! Absolutely not." Otto and Alicent looked to Aemonds antics with frustration. This was not the first time Aemond has stepped in to deny a betrothal on his sisters behalf seeing as she was always too afraid to go against her mother and grandfather. "Aemond. The Tyrells control all of the grain in the Reach. We need to strengthen our alliances to secure a prosperous future." Otto interjected. Alicent knew what this was truly about on the other hand. Ever since the day she walked in on Aemond laying kisses to Aeloras face whilst she slept. Trying to distance them a bit after learning thr depth of Aemonds affections for his sister. "You dare marry her to someone so mundane? She is a Targaryen princess. She deserves better." He spoke making Aegon chucke to himself. "Aemond... Aelora will meet with Ser Loris. And that's the end of it." Alicent said in frustration. Aemond turned his head to his sister and the look he gave her almost broke her heart. "Vestragon mirros issa dōna hāedar." (Say something my sweet girl)

Aemond and Aelora the only ones present fluent in High Valyrian. Besides Helaena but she wouldn't say anything about it. Aeloras mouth fell open as she attempted to speak but inevitably nothing came out. Aemond pushed out his chair and proceeds out the doors. Aelora spent the rest of the dinner in silence. Guilt over running her. Aemond often confided in her his deepest feelings and aspirations. Even the secrets that would be considered treason if the wrong person heard it. Sometimes he will go as far as to talk about what would happen if he were king. In the dead of night Aemond would come to her through the hidden passage ways. He would lay his head in her lap while she'd stroke his head and tell him how amazing he is. Per his request. She would allow him to kiss her hands and wrist to keep him calm.

Later that night Aelora layed awake sitting up in her bed waiting for her big brother to come see her. The hour grew late. But he never came. The Princess threw on her deep green robe and started to move through the tunnels. Emotions build in her as she gets closer to her destination. Opening the door behind his tapestry she slipped into an empty room. She started to lightly sob. Tears falling down her face as she ran to his bed. She's used to spending time here as well.

Aemond walked back from the training yard with his sword still gripped in her hands. Knuckles white as his hair. Sweat glistening off his bare chest. As he reached his door he heard the sound of crying from the inside and he knew who it was. Quietly he opens the door and slips inside. Setting down his sword he stalks over to the side of the bed she lays on. Her face buried in the sheets she didn't even notice him sit down on the mattress. He looks over her with a pout before he takes his hand and runs it over the side of her face making her jump up. When their eyes connected she willed herself into his arm wrapping hers around his neck. "I'm sorry... *sniffles* I'm so sorry Aemy." Aemond brings his right arm to wrap around her body pull her closer. A small smile forms onto his face as his plan forms. Aemond pulls her back making her look him in the eye. How easy this will be. He thinks to himself.

"How could you? How could you just sit by and say nothing?" Aemond spat out at her making more tears spill from her eyes. "They want to take you away from me... and... I can't help but think you wanted this." Aeloras heart shattered at her brothers words. He had a power over her that was frightening. Aelora tried to deny his accusation but was interrupted. "You're breaking my heart..." Aelora shook her head aggressively with tears spilling staining her robe. "No, no, no, no, no. *hyperventilating* I'm sorry. I.. I have no choice. *sniffles* Please don't hate me." She broke out into violent sobs and Aemond soaks up every tear. The way he sees it every tear she sheds is a testimony of her love for her big brother. After he allowed her to cry for a bit he reached over and tucked the loose strands escaping her long braid behind her ear and shushed her. "Come here." He said. Aelora without any hesitation burried her head in his neck as she continued to cry. "I.. *sniffles* I didn't mean to make you upset with me big brother I'm sorry. *sobs* I'm so sorry." The smug grin on his face at her words... "Shh. Shh. Shh. Shh. It's OK. It's OK little one." He says as he pets her head and kisses her temple. Pouting at her innocence and the sobs that are muffled buy his bare skin.

"Look at me. Look at me sweet girl." Aelora looks up at him. Her eyes red and her cheeks wet. "There she is. *cups her face* Now. Do you love me?" She nods instantly. "Then you will deny this marriage. You will stay here with me. With your big brother. And I will keep you safe." He says as he ran his thumb over her cheek. She looks panicked before she speaks. "But.. but what. *sniffles* What can I do? Mother and grandfather-" Aemond tsks a few times which makes her stop talking in fear of being scolded again. "You are a Targaryen. Your place is here. Right here. In my protection. In my bed." Aemond leans in and steals a kiss from Aelora causing her to gasp and shutter when he pulled back. He kicks off his boots before climbing in bed behind her pulling her between his legs until her back rested on his chest. His lips immediately fall down her chin to her neck before she speaks up. "B.. B.. Brother..." Aemond pulls back to look her in the eyes. From this angle she looks up at him and feels smaller than ever. "Tell me baby sister. Have you ever felt a warmth in your belly when I'm near you?" She looked down in embarrassment. Blush covering her face. "A tingle in your body? When I tell you how beautiful you are. When I hold you close. When we share a kiss. An ache? Right about... here?" Aelora gasped when Aemonds hand started to touch her lower belly but she makes no attempt to stop him. "Tell me sweet girl. Do you touch yourself?" She looked to him and sent out another soft gasp at his words and actions. "N.. No. My.. *sniffles* my septa says its sinful." His smirk spreads wider and he licks his lips. "Good girl. See? You do know how to behave." He says to her making Aelora whimper. "You will marry me. Your womb will accept my seed. You will have my children. And if that rose cunt or a lion or even one of those wildlings up North ever lay an eye on you... They will know my claim. *whispers* When they see our silver haired babes clutching at your skirts." Aelora knows her brother to be a man of his word. "Mother will never accept it. I.. I love you big brother but-" Aemond finally brought his hand to her clothed cunt making her shiver. Rubbing slow circles against the fabric it causes Aelora to grab onto his arm making him chuckle. Aemond places a kiss on her temple. "Good girl. Mmm, so receptive to your big brother." Aelora shut her eyes unable to stop him. But instead buried her face in the crook of his neck making him chuckle. "Daor jorrāelagon naejot sagon naejot shy byka mēre. Nyke aōha lēkia. Ziry iksos issa gaomilaksir naejot gūrogon care ao." (No need to be to shy little one. I am your brother. It's my duty to take care you.)

Soft moans fall from her lips making his cock harden. His motions became too much for her to handle. Just as she attempted to stop him he grabs both of her wrists to stop her. "Don't you dare." He whispers against her ear as he continued with his movements. "Aemy... please." He listens to her words with a wicked grin. "Please what? Tell me little love, please what?" He says as her legs start to spasm. She whines a bit too loud as her pleasure builds and as a result, Aemond brings his free hand up and lays it over her mouth muffling her cries. "Daor sīr loud rūs mandia. Ao jaelagon ry hen kingslanding naejot rȳbagon skoros aōha rōva lēkia iksos doing, ȳdra daor ao?" (Not so loud baby sister. You want all of KingsLanding to hear what your big brother is doing, don't you?)

Her eyes roll to the back of her head making him chuckle. "Oh you like that don't you baby girl? Look at me." Aelora brings her head out from the crook of Aemonds neck and looks up at him. His hand still rests over her mouth. He said nothing he just held eye contact. The pressure builds more and more with each circle Aemond rubs into her. Her moans get louder and Aemond connects their lips to try and muffle the cry but it was no use. Like a flood it comes washing through everything. Aelora cried out as she broke the kiss and grabbed Aemond wrist to stop him for it felt too good. But he was too strong and if anything it only made him apply more pressure to her soaked cunt through the now damp fabric of her nightgown. She tries to pull away but is stopped when Aemonds hand wraps around her throat pushing her back to rest against his chest. "Stop it! *sobs* Nooo I can't..." He turns his head to look upon her face all flushed and started to coo at her. "Yes you can. Dōna rūs mandia yes you can. *whispers* Be good for me. " (Sweet baby sister) He just kept going. He wouldn't stop. And soon... very very soon... Aelora had her very first orgasm ever. She came so hard. Crying and moans. And it was because of her favorite big brother.

Aeloras breath rose and fell as she layed there, her back against his chest. Having lost all energy to fight him off anymore. After a short bit, he stopped his torment. Nose to nose they shared each other's breath. "Such a good girl for your big brother." He cooed to her. She calms down to realize this is wrong. Tears of shame spring to her eyes as she starts to move away. Only to be stopped. Aemond grabs her by the hair making her come back to him making her wince in pain. "And here I was giving you praise. Tsk tsk tsk tsk." He then takes both hands and brings them to the sides of her robe and with all his strength, rips it at the chest making her breasts spill out into the open. Aelora feels shame and whines as her nipples start to harden. But she also feels a wanting desire to be good for her big brother like she always had. Aemond on the other hand grew erect at the sight. Pushing into her back. "Do you wish to make it up to me little love?" He whispers with his lips on her ear making her shutter. She nods unable to speak as a chill runs down her spine. "If you wish to make me happy sweet sister. Then you must behave. Do as I say. Don't fight it."

Aemond slides his hand wrapped around her throat down her now bare chest and starts to tease her nipple casuing her to moan. "Be good for me." He insists. His hands grip each side of the torn fabric and tears it further down her body. "Stand up." He orders her to which she follows. Hey night gown falls up her feat leaving her bare in front of him. Her long hair covering her breasts coming to an end at her thighs as she turns to face him. As he stands he towers over her. Aelora has always payed attention to her brothers physique. His long slender frame adorned with muscles that come from training with a sword daily. His loose silver locs that match hers. He just stands there staring at her before he speaks. "You don't have to be afraid sweet girl." He reaches his arm behind her gripping her ass and pulling her against his body. "I'm sorry..." Aelora says to him. The closeness of their bodies makes Aelora press her legs together. That same tickling sensation Aemond spoke of flooding her body once more. Aemond allows a smirk to appear on his face before he reassures her that she can earn forgiveness. But only of she does what he tells her.

With his hand still holding her close Aemond brings his free hand up to cup her face. Aelora shivers as she looks into her brothers eye. Aemond wipes away a single tear that falls for his baby sister. "Daor limagon byka mēre." (No tears little one) Aemond studies her face. Apprehension. Uneasy. But also a sliver of curiosity. "Kiss me." He says to her. Aelora takes a deep breath before inevitably standing on her toes and giving Aemond what he wanted. The kiss takes her by suprise as it lasts longer than she anticipated. It feels different. More possessive. Like he had to prove a point. The point being that she belonged to him. Aemond starts to undo his ties keeping his trousers up making them fall to his ankles. He breaks the kiss to step out of them pulling Aeloras eyes to his manhood. Her heart beats faster as she sees the slender length standing at attention. She's pulled from thought by Aemond picking her up and laying her on the bed.

Aemond lays kisses leading down her chest. His lips grazing her nipples causing her to buck her hips. His warm breath against her bare chest made her want to cry. Not in a bad way. It's just... this was not the type of attention Aemond usually gave to his beloved sister. The nights they'd spend together was what Aelora often called, innocent. He'd sit in his chair by the fireplace with his baby sister snuggled in his lap with her head on his shoulder while he read. Once he heard the pretty sound of her light snoring Aemond would carry her to the bed. Sometimes he'd get into bed and sleep with her. Other times, Aelora had awoken in the middle of the night to find Aemond sitting next to the bed watching her sleep.

"It is moments like these baby sister. That I wish I had both eyes." He says as he drinks in her beauty. Kissing down her body he reaches her lower belly. He recalls the nights when he would tickle her relentlessly. The sweet sounds emanating from her throat filling his heart with enough warmth to keep open the cracks in his frozen heart. And now. Here he is. His face hovers over his sisters womanhood and watches as she shutters from his breath just before he finally makes the connection. Aelora whines as Aemond tastes her. Lustful and greedy. Possessive. He groans at the warmth of her. The sweet taste he's always craved. The moans he's drempt of. "A.. Aemy..." She cried. His eye rolls back and his satisfied hum caused her to buck her hips. Aemond takes a breath before speaking. "Gīda aōla rūs mandia." (Behave yourself baby sister.) She looks down at him. Her core is on fire. She knows this can not be allowed. But she doesn't want him to stop. "Nyke gaomagon daor gīmigon skoros's ileynas aemy. Skoros lo..." (I do not know what's happening Aemy. What if...)

Aemond shushes her. Aelora just shrinks and stops talking. "Lo ao pāsagon issa ao jāhor daor vīlībagon bisa. Lo ao jorrāelagon issa. Pār ao jāhor rual issa naejot gaomagon skoros nyke gīmigon iksos sȳrje syt ao." (If you trust me you will not fight this. If you love me. Then you will allow me to do what I know is best for you.) He spits out making her whimper and pout. Aemond responded by spitting on her clit before sucking it aggressively. After some heavy attention Aelora nears her second peak. She's never felt the sensation before tonight so she's scared. She still doesn't know what it is. Cries and pleads for him to stop fall on deaf ears. "Wait... wait stop it!" With little upper body strength as well as being bent in half her attempts to push him away fail. As soon after the pressure building snaps. Causing her to have an orgasm. This time squirting her heavy release directly into Aemonds face which ricochets all over the bed. Aemond pulls back slightly allowing multiple spirts of her release to spray him point blank.

Heavy breathing and soft whimpers are all she can muster. Aemond on the other hand smiles and he watches Aeloras head fall back in ecstasy. He draws his lips together and blows on her quivering folds causing her to buck her hips. And Aemond to start chuckling. "So sensitive." He whispers out. Aemond sits up to start aligning himself with her. Aelora comes back to reality and tries to get away but Aemond grabs her by the throat completely catching her by suprise. "Don't. You. Fucking move." A dangerous look he gives her. Causing fear to strike her heart. She remained frozen as he slapped his hard cock against her wet clit. "You're going to take what I give to you. My sweet baby sister." Then, Aemond starts to penetrate her. Breaking her maidenhead. Ruining her forever. Aelora cries out in pain as Aemond takes her legs back into the previous position. A few small thrusts and soon enough he is fully burried inside of her. And he feels that wonderful warmth of her blood spilling down his cock. "A.. Aemy. Please..." She whimpers as Aemond starts to thrust. "I know. I know... *whispers* Tight bloody cunt all for me." Aemond bends down causing Aeloras legs to fall to the sides of his body for some relief. His face falling into the side if her neck.

Skin slapping and the wet slosh of her folds makes Aemond forget his sweet sister was not well versed in the act of pleasure. And in doing so, he started to slap his hips against hers a bit harder than he believed she could handle. But she feels so good. "Aemond!" She tried to make him understand. He was going to fast. "No inferior lord of flowers is going to take this from me. *gasps* No golden haired cunt. No... *grunting* No wildling up North." He said with such brutality and hatred dispite the pleasure he felt as he kept fucking her. "You're mine." He said through gritted teeth. "YOU'RE MINE!" He shouts through the same gritted teeth. Each thrust grew more relentless before he dug all the way in and stayed at the hilt catching his breath. But also just applying more and more pressure as he kept pushing forward. Believing that he could go deeper when in reality he could not. At this Aelora cries out. Sobs emitting from her throat and tears running down her cheeks. But she couldn't help but latch to him. Her big brother. The one who always gave such comfort. A kind word. The one who could make her day with his very presence. That warmth despite how cold he appeared to all but the young Princess.

Aemond heard her cries and felt her arms and legs wrap around him in a fierce grip. When he looked down at her face it was red. Her eyes closed scrunched in pain. And in that moment instead of sparing her further. He closes the gap and captured her lips with his before thrusting once more. This time not as harsh. Allowing for some pleasure to take over the pain. Gradually. "Hush now baby sister. You have to forgive me." He whispered menacingly over her face. Her eyes still closed he decided to kiss her tears away. Prepping kisses all over her face. Acting gentle as compared to a few moments ago. The sight of Aemonds cock red with blood was new. Yet it only entices him further. "I..it hurts A..Aemy" She sobs. He caresses her cheeks with both hands when he says, "You're so perfect." Her eyes flutter open as Aemond stops moving once more. "Breathe. Look at me little one. *eyes open* Ah there she is. Take a deep breath for me love." She does as he says and he can feel her start to relax more so he has her do it again. Pausing for a moment before spitting on his wet shaft. And also starts to play with her clit. Finally the pain passes for the most part. "Do me you love me?" He asked between thrusts. She tried to answer but was overwhelmed and just whined in response. "That's not an answer little love. Do you love me?" Aelora looked into Aemonds eye and clenched around him making him smile.

"Kessa rōva lēkia." (Yes big brother) He captures her lips with his and runs both hands up her arms until he entangled his fingers with hers. Holding her hands in place above her head. This is a dream come true. Aeloras moans are louder and more spaced signaling she's closer to a third orgasm. Aemond picks up on this and teases her a bit. "Aww what's the matter? Hm? Tell me what ails you my sweet baby sister." Her whines are sure to reach the halls. Good. He thinks to himself. "Aemy..." She can't help but choke out. Aemond lays a kiss to her forehead. "I can't help you unless you tell me." The pressure is building again. She does not hate this feeling at all. In fact it feels amazing. But she's fearful of the consequences. "It's happening again." She cries. "Let it happen. Cum for me again. Cum for me and I shall reward you." He says to her making her clench again pulling a chuckle from Aemond. Skin slapping against skin. The whines and sobs. The constant feeling of being filled and emptied. It was all too much. "Aemy please!" Aemond took notice of how her toes clenched before he heard to oh sweet beautiful sounds of his baby sister. Cummings so hard around his big uncut cock. "Ohhhh sweet girl... *laughs* I should've put a towel down. If I'd known you'd be so messy." He teases. Making another wave of spasms hit her. "Oh shhhh. It is alright. *kisses her* We will just get new sheets. Hm. Now it's time for your reward." He resumes his thrusts. Her folds pink and swollen parting ways for him once again. Puffy and beaten up. "I can't..." She cries out. "You've been such a good girl for me. What kind of big brother would I be if I did not give you what you have earned?" Thrusts, skin slapping, cries, whimpers, and panting fill the air. "Thats it. Give me my future baby sister. Give me everything." All before the final thrust. "Oh my... *panting* You... you did so well for me." He takes hold of the base of his cock. Pulling out slowly. But her tight and swollen cunt seems to be putting up a fight. "Breathe." He says to her. Slowly she let's go of him. But she can't help but clench. Successfully she is able to release him though her grip remains. Cause his body to shake after. He rests his head on her shoulder and warmth spreads across his chest as she starts to run her fingers through his hair. "I love you." He says as he kisses her. "I.. I love you too."

Not too long after Aelora is fast asleep with Aemond still laying over her watching. Moving stray hairs from her face as she stired in the night. This blissful moment was interrupted by the sound of his door opening. Quickly he turned his head to see the flow of green he knew belonged to his mother Queen Alicent Hightower. Her steps stutter for a moment at the sight before her. Her innocent daughter... in the arms of her brother... Her steps resume towards the bed. "What have you..." Aemond cut her off seething and speaking lowly through gritted teeth. "Don't you dare wake her!" She stops immediately in her tracks. Aelora starts to grumble and stir in her sleep. "Mm. Aemy..." Aemond smiled down at her like an eager child feasting on sweets. How she calls for him even in her sleep. "Shh. Shh. Shhhh. I am here. Go back to sleep little love." She responds by turning more into his body for warmth. He runs the back of his hand down the side of her face in complete bliss before he remembered. His mother... Slowly Aemond gets out of bed as Alicent leaves the room. He grabs a robe near the fireplace wrapping it around his body. He then kneels on the bed before pressing a kiss to Aeloras forehead.

Aemond walked into the hall to see his mother pacing back and forth. "There is no one in this world who has the ability to ruin a such perfect moment quite like you." Aemond said before being slapped across the face. "What have you done to your sister!?" Alicent asks. Her face as red as her hair. He adjusts his jaw before speaking. "What is well within my right. You were going to sell her to some flowered cunt." Alicent was fuming. "She is your sister."

"She is a Targaryen as am I. You could never understand. The pull to your own blood." He was committed to getting that which was already his. "It is a sin against the gods. We made an exception for Aegons claim. But this..." She was cut off. "Her blood stains my sheets. My seed has probably already taken root. And come morning. She will be carrying my son. Proudly." All Alicent could do was shed a few tears and shake her head. "She is an innocent." She said to him. "Indeed. And I owe that to you mother. Your insistence on keeping her pure. Innocent. Mm. Naive... She didn't even know what a orgasm was until I showed her." He laughed in her face. Alicent swung her arm again but her wrist was caught in Aemonds grip. "Come morning. She will be carrying my heir. And come morning. You will betrothe she and I. We will marry in a fortnight as to not raise suspicion. You will do this. Or I will steal her away and you will never see either of us again." He meant every word. And he knew Alicent now had no choice. Meanwhile in the room Aelora woke up all alone. From outside the doors they can hear her faintly cry out for her big brother. "A.. Aemy?" Aemond immediately pushes Alicent away. Telling her to fetch her person handmaiden to come and collect the sheets to burn them before the sun rose. "Aemy." He heard as he stepped in the door. He looked to see Aelora sitting up in bed with tears in her eyes. The bloody layer of the sheets were now discarded to the floor also. When she turned to see him she reached her arms out to him. He came rushing over. Pulling her into his arms. "Whats the matter sweet girl? Did you have a nightmare? Hm?" He asked. She shook her head. "I.. I thought you left me." She said in a tone that could break your heart. But only caused Aemond to smile more. Her neediness will come in handy. "Never. I swear to you. You shall remain with me always. You will see. You will never leave my side. Not ever." None of you will. He thinks as he places her hand on her belly. Imagining her growing fat with his child. A round belly. Chubby cheeks. Large breasts full of milk for he himself his children to drink. "I can not wait until you are nice and heavy. And I shall keep you that way." He whispers as she drifts back into sleep.

The next morning Aelora was shocked when her mother announced her engagement to Aemond. More. That they'd be wed in a matter of two weeks. At this she was happy. She'd get to stay with her big brother forever. The day of the wedding came and Alicent couldn't help but tear up at her daughter in her white wedding dress. As happy as can be. Not understanding why this is all happening but doesn't seem to care in the slightest. "Don't cry mother. Aemond loves me. And he will never mistreat me. I know it to be true. He will take care of me forever. And I will get to remain here with you." She said smiling in the sun. On the way to the wheelhouse. Aemond stood in the Sept of Baelor awaiting his bride. His future. And the wedding went off perfectly. That night they spent in extacy and screams. No bedding ceremony per Aemonds demand. But not shy about alerting the entire court of their coupling. Well after the wedding it was common talk around the keep of the princess changing her entire wardrobe. Wearing clothes that were picked and approved by Aemond more conservative. Showing less skin than usual to hide the bruises and hickeys.

Months later, Aelora gave birth to their first child. As well as their second. Two newborn sons. Maegor and Rhaegyr. Proud names chosen by their proud father. Aelora remains in bed with her mother doting on her while Aemond stands with both sons in his arms. Adoring their sleeping faces. "You've done well my girl." Alicent says to Aelora. "Yes indeed." Aemond says pulling her attention away from their mother. Eager to please him. As always... Aemond turned to look at her. Moving to the bed she takes Maegor from his left arm. Allowing him enough freedom in movement to sit down. "I told you you'd give me a son. And you went beyond all expectation. Not just delivering one son but two." He continued. She smiled at his praise. Especially when he moved closer and kissed her. "Sȳz riña." (Good girl) He said in their ancestral language so Alicent couldn't understand.

Aemond praise was always something she would seek out. His approval meant everything to her. His approval his praise... his rewards when she was good... "I recommend that you wait six weeks before joining in your marriage bed once more." The Maester said. Causing Aemond to take a puff of annoyance. "Maester? A moment?" Alicent asked as she stepped into the hall with the man. Aelora smiled at the twins before she spoke to Aemond. "I am sorry I can not lay with you Aemond." He looks to her. Cupping her cheek with his hand. "No matter." He slides his thumb over her lip before putting the tip in her mouth. "You will take your rewards whenever I see fit to give them. Won't you? You like swallowing your rewards don't you?" She nodded eagerly. "Kessa rōva lēkia." (Yes big brother.) "Good girl. Not to worry. You will give me another child soon enough."

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