#I wrote this in an hour so please be gentle and enjoy

[hockeynoses]

Happy Halloween! (a snz fic)

Male - cold, mess!, implied future contagion

~*~

He wakes up to sinuses that are absolutely packed with congestion. He’d gone to sleep last night with a tickle in his throat and a bit of a headache, but he certainly didn’t expect to wake up to this.

His nose starts streaming the second he sits up in bed, setting off a tickle deep in his nose. Still hazy from sleep and a head that feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, he only manages to get his hand halfway to his face before erupting with a thick sneeze – “heh-nnggK’SHO!” that forces the gunk that had accumulated in his sinuses out, covering his hand in mess, the rest escaping into the air. He’s left with twin trails of clear liquid coating his upper lip as he shivers, dazed.

Leaning over to the nightstand, he thanks his past self for keeping a box of tissues stocked there as he pulls out several of them. He buries his face in the soft cotton and lets out a truly ill-sounding blow. The sound of it crackles through the air as more snot is dislodged, filling the bundle and soaking through to his hands.

He throws the ruined tissues to the floor and grabs the box, setting it next to him on the bed and pulling out fresh ones. His breath scissors in his chest before he snaps forward with a violent – “huh…ha-AHH’EEHGGSHH’IUE!” that explodes out of him.

He doesn’t dare remove the tissues from his face, groaning as he feels the wet mess of it against his skin. He gives a damp, clearing blow, strong enough to shift the pressure in his ears. He’s forced to breathe through his mouth as he crumples up the Kleenex and tosses them to the side.

I’m going to go through the whole box by noon, at this point, he thinks, flopping back onto his soft pillows. He rubs his knuckles against his itchy nose, already well on its way to becoming pink.

It fucking had to be today, he laments, allowing himself a small pity party. It’s Halloween, and he’d been planning on spending the day making treats for the party later tonight, as well as handing out candy to the trick or treaters. He’s just going to have to power through. Maybe it just seems worse because it’s still early and his body hasn’t had time to wake up yet.

As soon as he thinks it, his nostrils flare and he’s surprised by a wrenching double – “ha’GSSHH’IUE! Huh..ha’NGGSSHH’uh!” At the mercy of his own body and unable to cover in time, the viscous spray of it mists the sheets in front of him. “Ugh… oh god,” he groans, swiping at the mess on his face with his hand.

Remembering the box next to him, he pulls out a fistful of Kleenex and releases a gurgling, cold-ridden blow into the waiting tissues.

“Fugg, I don’t wadda be – heh… ha’ERRSSHH’IUE! – SNF. I don’t wadda be sigg today.” Noting the squishy pressure that still clogs his sinuses after so many clearing sneezes, he resigns himself to the fact that he most likely has come down with the cold from hell.

Yet, determined as he is, he’s not going to let it stop him from going on with his plans. He can still make the food for the party tonight, he’ll just have to be very careful about washing his hands and covering his sneezes. If he has to make them one-handed while holding a tissue to his dripping nose the whole time, then so be it.

He should be able to hide his illness enough that no one will be worried. Hopefully he’ll be able to hold it off enough so they won’t take one look at him and decide it isn’t worth the risk. Hell, the way he sounds, even just being in the same room as him might be risky enough. But he can’t let his friends down, and he doesn’t want to miss the party.

Pulling more tissues from the box, he catches a harsh, scraping – “uh…huh…ha’NNGGGSSH’ah!” into the bundle, containing all of the dense, contagious mess that his nose is constantly trying to force out of him. He gives one last marshy blow before getting up to start the day, box of tissues in hand. If he can just keep his nose under control, everything should be fine.

[ditzytwinks]

saw this photo of dick and penis in love and then blacked out with inspiration, when i came to this was on my phone screen. extremely minor angst with immediate comfort, and a mild sexual ref. credit to the post and original photographer!!!

“OHGODOHGODOHGODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

despite being a fan of rollercoasters, phil can get a bit dramatic when it comes to actually experiencing the notoriously exhilarating rises and drops. right now, phils squirming next to dan so furiously dans slightly worried he’ll somehow come loose from the rides harness. all the while, dans trying to focus on keeping his own breathing steady whilst taking in the view.

“DAAAAAANNNNNNNN WHY DID WE DO THIIIIIS” phils hand shoots out and grabs at dans, a move so instinctual they’ve previously spent several years of running the gaming channel expertly removing them.

maybe it was the adrenaline already pumping through his veins, maybe it was an emotional remnant of the last time dan and phil were on tour together. but somewhere deep within the recesses of dans brain, he thinks “what if someone sees us” and instantly felt the urge to wiggle out from phil’s grasp, retracting his hand

phil’s puzzling gaze whips over the harness bar, clocking that dan didn’t automatically grab phil’s hand back like he was holding onto the only life preserver left on a capsized boat, especially while phil was actively scrambling for dans comforting touch.

“bear what’s wrong?”

the ride continues up and up, his ocean eyes borrowing into dans soul, searching.

dan snaps back to the current moment. it’s 2024. he’s out and proud, with phil, on a tour celebrating Them and their audience over the past decade and a half. they aren’t Overt about it in any traditional sense, but they know everyone knows. and they’re still safe.

dans long fingers snake over phils wrist and slide effortlessly in between his partners fingers, molded by 15 years of repeated action.

“sorry bubby, i went somewhere else. got kinda freaked out for a moment there”

dan saw phils tensed face muscles soften, eyes communicating his understanding through their freaky telepathic link.

phil moves into second phase of Dan Retrieval™, cracking a joke to get dan out of his racing thoughts, bonus points if phil can get dan to refocus on him.

what wasn’t a part of phil’s plan was the ride halting with a slight jolt, building the ballooning anticipation for the Big Drop. phil makes the mistake of looking down, letting out a whimper through his slight pout.

“well, i’m Currently freaking out, so will you please be my brave and trusty steed and Don’t Let Go or i am going to scream your ears off and then you’ll be sorry.”

dan let out a light chuckle at phil’s bratting, rolling his eyes fondly at his princess baby angel as the widest smile spreads across dans face. it would be considered face gym if he weren’t so distracted by the adrenaline and transfixed by phils pretty face trying desperately to be brave. dan gives phil’s hand a reassuring squeeze, worries melting away in the kaleidoscope that is phil lester’s irises.

“bet i can scream louder” dan quips, they share a knowing look. anyways, dan versus phil is never ending, only momentarily paused.

rides are always more cathartic when you scream, anyways.

dan looks down. someone’s phone flash has gone off while he happens to be sporting this most goofy, blinding smile, and he doesn’t care one bit who sees it.

the, a final click as the ride releases with a whoosh!!

they’re the loudest couple on the whole ride.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling. 

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose. 

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. 

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious. 

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach. 

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you. 

“Kiss me some more,” you coax. 

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure. 

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all. 

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you. 

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs. 

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs. 

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better. 

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day. 

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him. 

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else. 

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently. 

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin. 

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement. 

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

[marthawrites]

Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list

I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!

"Vok" (Perfect)

Aemond Targaryen x sister reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.

Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️

-

To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.

To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.

To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.

To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector. 

Your secret.

A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.

The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?

Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.

Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.

Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.

-

The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection. 

“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”

“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.

“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.

Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”

“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.

“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”

“W-what?”

He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”

“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”

A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him. 

You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.

“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”

A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”

He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”

Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.

“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”

Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.

“Yes, what?”

Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.

Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.

“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”

You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain. 

“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”

It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”

It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”

You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.

Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”

You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.

“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.” 

Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.

“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More. 

Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”

“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.

As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.

“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement. 

You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.

“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”

Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.

Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.

“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”

Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.

With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”

And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing. 

Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.

Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight. 

“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”

As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.

To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”

You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”

In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.

You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.

His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.

You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily. 

He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.

Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”

Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafeism @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui

[withleeknow]

lifeline.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda?, slice of life?; unedited don't look at me lol word count: 0.7k listen to 🎧: lifeline - the rose note: weeeee it's been a good few months since i last wrote a plotless baby drabble so i might be rusty. in my head this is a companion piece to happy place :) wrote this v randomly bc i was in a mood lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

There’s a touch that Minho is familiar with, one that makes him drop whatever it is that he could be doing just to be there for you.

When your fingers dance across the back of his hand until you reach his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it so you could feel his pulse under your fingertips, he knows to take you into his arms and keep you there until you’re ready to let go.

It’s at the crack of dawn when you’ve just woken up from a bad dream, or in the middle of the dark, dark night when you’re plagued with bouts of uncertainty and your chest feels too heavy to fall asleep. Your hand tentatively traces over his pulse point, and Minho brings you closer, your legs tangled together in the sheets, his lips pressed against your forehead and his voice humming the melody of your favorite song.

It’s on the couch on a stormy evening, the room filled with the neverending patter of rain against the window, loud enough to drown out the trio of cats snoring in the background. You aren’t entirely there, your head is somewhere far away but you still absentmindedly reach for him, your thumb on the underside of his wrist. Minho lets you count the beats for a minute or so, before he pulls you into his lap, no questions asked. He tucks your face into the crook of his neck as he cards his fingers through your hair, gentle against your scalp, soothing when they rub the back of your neck.

It’s right before you both leave for a week-long trip with friends, when he’s hauling your suitcases to the front door but you tug him back by his wrist, and Minho knows that the airport can wait a few more minutes. He’s wrapping you up in his arms in an instance while yours wound around his neck, holding him flush against you as you breathe in his scent, your favorite in the whole wide world.

And it’s even when he’s putting groceries away that you come up to him from behind to hug him close. He rests his hands over yours where your fingers are securely fastened around his middle like a seatbelt, and you instantly untangle them in search of that familiar destination again. You press your forehead against the defined muscles in his back as you feel his pulse, beating steadily right under your thumb. A couple of minutes, it’s your little routine.

When Minho twists his body around in your hold to look at you, he scans your face for traces of discomfort, for any sign that you need him to ground you.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” you say with zero regard for the potatoes and onions that have been abandoned to roll around on the kitchen counter.

Then you’re guiding him down by the neck, a sense of urgency in your movement when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back just as eagerly, not wasting a single second as his hands find their rightful place on your waist.

You kiss him until you’re both breathless, until your cheeks are tinted with the rosiest shade of pink. When he opens his eyes, Minho finds you already looking up at him like you’re wonderstruck, your gaze doused in so much love that it proceeds to knock some more air out of his lungs.

“What was that for?” he manages to ask.

“Just… thank you.” You smile softly, nudging your nose against his before you press another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth for good measure. You’ve got more to say, he can tell.

The thing is, you two aren’t overly vocal about your affection for one another. He doesn’t have to tell you he loves you every hour of every day, and you don’t write him love letters like this is some kind of sappy romance novel.

What you lack in words, you make up for with actions, with an understanding that transcends the kind of love people often dream about. Whenever you search for him in your darkest moments, reaching for him and feeling his heartbeat against your fingertips like that is simply enough light to anchor you, to bring you back home, Minho knows that he’s your lifeline in every way that you are his.

And when you speak again after a brief moment, your voice gentle yet firm, he knows that it isn’t an exaggeration. He knows you mean it.

“I think you saved my life.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.09.2024]

[httpdwaekki]

sleepy | s.c.

summary: you may be tired but you're not passing up the opprotunity to spend time with your favorite boy.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: food is mentioned but other than that just lots of fluff :3

a/n: i haven’t written for my favorite boy in a while and my bub @giddyfatherchris asked for soft binnie so long ago (I’M SO SORRY🤧) so i wrote this lil thing for her <3. i did get lost in the sauce but what else is new. anyway i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.

my library

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(pictures are not mine, credit to owners!)

when changbin had asked if you wanted to come to the studio while him, chan and jisung recorded, you jumped at the opportunity.

however what you didn’t account for barely sleeping the night before and working a 10 hour shift before joining them at the studio. but you withheld that information from binnie because he would’ve forced you to go home and you’ve been looking forward to this.

so here you were, comfy as you could be on the couch in the back of their studio as you listened to your favorite boy sing his lines. his voice was slowly lulling you to sleep with each passing second.

you hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep until you heard his soft voice, “baby.” your eyes flutter open before focusing on the man in front of you. “hi bubba.” you stretch, giving him a sleepy smile. “hi my sleepy girl.” he smiles back. he was kneeling next to you, his hand placed on your hip, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

you look behind him to find his two counterparts gone, “where’d the boys go?” you ask, sitting up, stretching once more. “they went to get food, they said they’d pick us up something too.” he moves to sit next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

“that’s sweet.” you mumble, placing your head on his shoulder. he hums, placing a kiss to your head before laying his head on top of yours.

“why so sleepy, hm?” you wrap your arms around the one he has on your thigh, relaxing further into him. “just a long shift,” you yawn. “plus i didn’t sleep all the good last night.” he lifts his head, looking at you. “what?”

you lift yours, looking to him, “what?” you furrow your eyebrows, eyes searching his. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks softly. “you didn’t have to come, bunny, you could’ve gone home and slept.” he says, concern and worry laced in his voice.

you shake your head, “i know but i wanted to be here, i just,” you pause, taking his hand in yours. “i never get to see you and i’d rather be here with you, napping on this stiff couch than be home in my bed without you.” 

his eyes soften, before squeezing your hand, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” he mumbles, his cheeks burn a pale pink, small smile on his lips. “what?” you laugh. “aw, are you blushing?” you pinch his cheek softly, teasing him. 

“yah! stop that!” he exclaims, pushing your hand away. “ you loove me, binnie loooves me.” you tease, moving yourself to his lap, poking at him. “yah!- stop- y/n!” he manages to get out between laughs, before turning his attacks onto you.

“yah! binnie- no no- stop!” you squeal, laughing as he starts tickling your sides. “hey! hey! binnie please! truce, truce!” you giggle as he finally relents his attacks. 

you finally catch your breath, looking into his eyes. you place your hands on his cheeks before giving him a kiss. “i love you, you know that right?” he smiles before pulling you into another kiss. “i love you more, baby.” he mumbles against your lips.

you giggle before leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.

“alright wrap it up love birds.” jisung claps as he bursts through the door, chan following behind him. “jisung!” chan chastises him, “i told you not to do that! she might’ve still been asleep!” he places the bag on the table in the middle of the room before turning to you.

“sorry about him.” you giggle shaking your head. “it’s okay.” moving to sit next to binnie, missing the small pout on his lips. chan carefully moved the table closer to the couch as han pulled two of the computer chairs to the table before taking a seat.

chan started handing out the food, as han took a seat at one of the chairs. 

everyone started to dig in, binnie, han and chan fell into conversation about the track they were working on, you silently watching and listening as they talk. once you were full, you laid your head on bin’s shoulder, just enjoy the background noise.

after a few moments, you had fallen asleep once more, soft breaths leaving your lips. once everyone was done eating, chan collected everyone’s trash quietly before him and han went back to the computers.

you awoken once again by a soft shake, “hm?” you lift your head, taking in your surroundings. “‘m sorry.” you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “it’s okay baby, we’re just got a couple more things to do then we can go, okay?” you nod your head, yawning once again, before he pats his lap.

“lay down baby.” 

“don’t you have to record?” he shakes his head, “nope i’m all done, i just wanna wait to hear how everything sounds before we go.” you nod, laying down, making yourself comfortable on his thigh.

you fell asleep in record time, soft snores leave your lips, as he mindlessly drew shapes on your arm. you stayed like that for a bit, letting the boys wrap up before you woke up once more, in binnie’s car, pulling up to your complex.

“was i out that bad?” you ask stretching out. “baby, you were out cold, you didn’t even flinch when i picked you up.” he laughs, glancing over to you. “oh god, i’m sorry.” you groaned, covering your face.

“it’s okay,” he places a hand on your thigh, “you’re tired, i would’ve preferred you to have been home getting rest, but i’m glad you came.” he gives your thigh a squeeze, sending you a cheesy smile.

“i am too.” you take his hand in yours, placing a kiss to the back of his. he puts the car in park before helping you out of the car. he locks the car before heading up to your apartment. you unlock the door, both of you discarding your shoes at the door.

you both make your way to your room, luckily binnie was in sweatpants and a big t-shirt so he was already comfy. you quickly took off your jeans, opting for no pants, binnie took off his shirt before tossing it your way.

“thank you.” you give him a sleepy smile before ditching your shirt and bra, pulling his shirt over your head. he had already set up your bed so you can slip right under the soft blankets. once under the blankets he opened his arms, you fell into him, your whole body relaxing.

“goodnight, my sleepy girl.” he whispers before placing a kiss to your temple. “goodnight, bubba.” you mumbled, placing a kiss to his soft chest, before both of you fall into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in each other’s arms.

do not repost

p.s. likes/reblogs are never expected but always appreciated <3

p.p.s my taglist is also open <3

[starlostseungmin]

husband!han

✰ notes: posting this a day early since i’ll be out of town please enjoy <33 not proofread. REBLOGGING, COMMENTS AND LEAVING TAGS are highly appreciated! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin （ han ）changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Han who asked the baker and chef to put the ring inside the cake. You thought it was kind of old school and yet you cried when you saw the ring. He went down on one knee in front of the crowd as the waiter/waitresses came for assistance. “Will you be the mother of Bbama?” “Yes!” 

Husband Han who wrote a song that he’d use on the day of his wedding proposal. The lyrics consist of words about his feelings, how deep his love is for you, how thankful he is, and how you are his favorite person apart from his Minho hyung. He went on the small stage of the restaurant and grabbed a small piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget what he had written. 

Husband Han whom you can order around. He complains but still does whatever you ask for. Sometimes he just obeys quietly or if he’s in the mood, he looks like a kid who’s happy to help his parents with that adorable and proud smile plastered on his face.

Husband Han who loves to stay home and watch your favorite movies then proceeds to cuddle you all day. He also buys things that will serve good for your convenience and cause less effort. He is a home buddy for a reason. 

Husband Han who is happy as a clam when you visit him while he’s at work especially when you bring him and his members with a ton of food.

Husband Han who is a loud introvert and hits high notes effortlessly on a random Wednesday morning. 

Husband Han who overreacts, and screams at any small inconvenience when he gets a chance. Hyunjin would be the one to cover his mouth because his ears suffer the most. 

Husband Han who has a lot of feelings and takes everything to heart (playfully) during a nonsense argument and will say some things nonstop until both of you just laugh them off. Yet also the type to be calm and straightforward that would pierce your heart if it’s serious especially when he does have a point. 

Husband Han who sometimes doesn’t listen to you and is stubborn. 

Husband Han who apologizes hours later after thoroughly thinking of what he did or said wrong during the fight. He would hug you tightly when he sees you crying and say “I love you” instead of  “I’m sorry.”

Husband Han who listens attentively to your worries and gives you useful advice. If he feels like you don’t want to hear anything and just sit there in silence, he will hold your hand or bring you into his arms while kissing the crown of your head. 

Husband Han whose love languages are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation (through the songs he wrote). 

Husband Han who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to BBama instead of him. He would sulk at the corner and refuse to talk unless you baby him until he decides to forgive you. 

Husband Han who gets sentimental when sad so you let him lay on you and bury his face on your neck while you hum his favorite tune or just play with his hair while whispering some things that he needs to hear. He loves it when you do that. 

Husband Han who loves cheesecakes especially when you’re the one who made them. He’d devour them immediately with some iced coffee he got from Seungmin.

Husband Han who gets round when he eats something or just mainly his cheeks are the cutest that you want to kiss, pinch, or suddenly goes nom nom nom. 

Husband Han who doesn’t mind you wearing his clothes. He loves them on you. 

Husband Han whose voice you want to listen to all night after a long day because it’s soothing to hear and brings you comfort, especially when he is talking softly and in a gentle manner. 

Husband Han who gets undeniably shy when you kiss him, especially when you’re in public. He is all giddy and a blushing mess, expect to make out with him when you get home.

Husband Han who can sleep everywhere that you get jealous but he would ask you first if you want to cuddle until you fall asleep in whatever comfortable place you’re at. 

Husband Han who texts or calls you before going home from work just to ask how your day went and if you want him to buy something. Sometimes you do it the other way around. It’s a must in this marriage. 

Husband Han who spoils you a lot. 

Husband Han who respects whatever decision you make, especially when it comes to the thought of having kids. Just like anyone else, he doesn’t pressure you and wait until you’re the first one to initiate the topic. 

Husband Han who promised to love you and never leave until death do you part.

Husband Han who thinks that having you in his life is the greatest gift he could ever have and the best thing that ever happened. 

Husband Han whom you love, protect, and spend the rest of your life with along with Bbama. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[marycorcaroli]

PLEASE do a blurb/fic of zoro or luffy (your choice!!) being pussy drunk!! i love your work <333

first of all, thank you for your kind words, i don’t know if i wrote it well, but i tried my best ♡

zoro & luffy as a pussy drunk boyfriends ♡

english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes ♡

zoro.

you don't need to ask zoro for anything, he'll feel it himself when you want his tongue between your legs. zoro loves licking you so much and the way you whimper and beg for him to let you cum and give you the most euphoric orgasm. zoro licks cunnie better than anyone else, he was born to give you that pleasure. zoro isn't the fastest at this, he likes to enjoy every moment and every inch of you, making sure to kiss your thighs and your breasts before he starts licking you. he will start kissing your clit uncontrollably to hear you say "please, zoro, fuck me with your tongue" and he will go crazy for it. his mouth will not be able to stop until you cover his face in your juices, he will be covered in them and his knees will be shaking, his pants will be ruined because your cunt makes him cum more than you, your taste, your smell, your everything. he can't stop after two of your orgasms, he needs more. he wants to burrow into you while his hands hold your waist so you can't move away from him or push him away, he won't let that happen. zoro loses control of himself, his head spinning before his eyes, all he sees is you and your cunt swollen with endless orgasms. eventually he lets you go and gives you hope that that's it, but the next second you're on his face and zoro tries again to make you cum in a minute to feel your juices, he licks you all over and after hours of orgasms, he kisses you, but he wants more.

luffy.

luffy doesn't care where and when to lick you, he will lick you only because he wants to, he doesn't care who is looking at you, he is flattered to let everyone know that he can give you euphoria with just his tongue. he is the dirtiest and drooling, your cunnie is like air to him and he literally gasps when you try to move away from him and starts crying. he will beg you to let him lick you all day, it's only morning and luffy is so needy. he will stain all the sheets with his cum just from the sight of your cunt, in his head he has already seen what will happen to him, once he tastes you he will go crazy. he will start out very rough, luffy has waited too long. he will literally dig his face deep into you, his nose will rub your clit as his tongue does its best to bathe in your juices. he will make you feel too good, but you shouldn't forget about him. oh god, this boy is already sick, imagine a man who lives to be on his knees in front of you. he can't get enough air, he will never get tired of you and your taste, don't get your hopes up, he could die while he's licking you, it's beyond praise for him, if you want to thank him in any way, just spread your legs and that will be enough. luffy is ready to tell everyone how delicious you are and how lucky he is to have you. how he wants to be between your legs forever. i don't think he will ever be gentle, haha he just can't enjoy it and wants to take you all over. everyone has seen his nose, right? luffy is waiting for you to ride his face, your juices running down his chin while the two of you go crazy with your orgasms and can't stop whimpering, your eyes will be red and your face swollen with tears but luffy is even more turned on, i don't think he can stop.

[zvdvdlvr]

Would love some more Hotchner blurbs. How about one where you are BAU and have a baby girl (name is up to you) and you bring in the little doll because you (and baby girl) wanted to see daddy? If you are against writing for children, please write Hotch x Reader where she is a civilian and has a stalker problem? Would love to see protective Aaron Hotchner. Thanks

— Popsicles

📎 — synopsis. You, Jack, and Giada go and visit dad at work!

📎 — warnings. Fluff. Tooth rotting fluff. Jack calls reader ‘mommy’. Will def be writing about reader with a stalker problem :)

The summer heat in Virginia was downright unbearable. To you especially, considering your aversion to heat. Thankfully, after being given a rather generous maternity leave, you could enjoy most of the beginning of summer in the air conditioned house.

Of course, Aaron had to go back for work earlier than you. That left you, Jack, and little baby Giada at home most of the time. You loved your babies- blood or not- but still missed the last part of your family: your husband.

So now here you are, Giada in arms as Jack jumps excitedly in the elevator with a cooler in his arms. Giada had been cooing and scratching at everyone and everything for the better part of two hours. You smiled down at the baby, heart swelling with joy as Jack wrapped an arm around your leg and started ushering you forward.

“Aunt Penny!” Jack shouted, dropping the cooler and heading straight towards his favorite technical analyzer. You reached down for the cooler before Derek materialized beside you and picked it up before you could.

“Not letting you lift a finger, y/n,” Derek scolded.

You just chuckled, earning a loud squeal from Giada. “Yeah, baby? Tell ‘im.”

Derek chuckled and wrapped an arm around you before moseying over to where Jack animatedly told Emily, Spencer, and Penelope about the Spider-Man cartoon he’d been watching.

Emily still listened intently as she wrappen an arm around you and let Giada grip her finger tightly. “It’s been rough without you,” she whispered to you. “I think Hotch misses you more than all of the rest of us combined- if that’s even possible.”

You nod, adjusting Giada. The toothy smile she shot up at you and Emily made all the recent sleepless nights worth it. “It’s been hard on all of us- being separated. I just might call Strauss up and tell her Derek needs to take over for awhile again.”

“Do it,” Emily agrees with a chuckle. She gently pries her finger out of Giada’s and nods towards Hotch’s office with a go get your man.

Your surprised that Aaron didn’t emerge like a caveman from his office (mancave) when Jack announced his presence, but at least now you have the opportunity to surprise him. A short come in filters through the door after your gentle knocked. You entered, seeing Aaron’s hunched over body. He wrote fast, you noticed. A smile lit up your face: positioned unprofessionally close to Aaron was a photo of all of you with Giada asleep in your lap- Jack’s head rested on your thigh with his mouth open in a little ‘O’ as he slept. Aaron was sat on the other side of you when he took that picture. He whipped out his cell and angled the phone so that you and the kiddos took up most of the screen.

“Say hi, baby,” you murmured, gently poking your baby girl’s chubby belly. Giada replied with a mix between a raspberry and a laugh.

Aaron’s head shot up. In record time, he crossed the room and enveloped the two of you in his arms and exhaled deeply. “Hi.”

You smiled up at him when he pulled away. “Hi, you,” you mumbled as your free hand came up to run a hand through Aaron’s tousled hair. “Gi and Jay wanted to come say hi… We miss you.”

Aaron’s eyes softened. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” He basked in the feeling of your comfort and Giada’s mindless babbling. “Where is Jack?”

“Handing out popsicles to the team,” you answered. “Here,” you eased Giada out of your arms and into Aaron’s. You watched with soft eyes as Aaron smiled brightly at the little body, gasping when her head fell on his shoulder.

“Clumsy girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the girl’s temple before adjusting her in his arms and letting you lead the way to the bullpen.

Rossi had joined the crowd of federal agents that now scarfed down popsicles like it was their last meal.

“Look who finally showed up,” Rossi quipped, jabbing you in the arm with a red popsicle. “Took you two lovebirds long enough.”

Jack giggled at your encounter and held up a popsicle. “Here mommy- I saved one for you! Uncle Spence was gonna eat it and it was the last blue one!”

“Thank you so much, kiddo,” you answered, accepting the blue raspberry popsicle. You held it out so Penelope could cut the top off for you. “Where’s J.J.?”

Spencer pointed in the direction of her office, wordlessly crunching the frozen treat. You held open and Jack took it. “Grab a green one so these heathens don’t eat all the good ones,” you told Jack. He grabbed one and giggled, avoiding Emily’s attempt to tickle him.

Jack pulled you forward, singing a random excerpt from a classic rock song you’d heard on the drive to the office. He skipped up and down, something you would have told him not to do if he was munching on a popsicle. You smiled to yourself, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky for your family.

[missydior]

I've just read 'milk & honey' and it is actually one of my favs rn i'm obsessed with ur style, please write something about the 'orange peel theory' with either charles or oscar when you can !! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

clementine ౨ৎ

♡: you have never doubted your boyfriend’s love for you, but when your friends ask you about the ‘orange peel theory’, you feel compelled to try it.

notes: charles leclerc/reader, established relationship, fluff.

a/n: thank you so so much anon, i’m warmed that you enjoyed reading ‘milk & honey’ because i certainly loveddd writing it. i adore this theory ft. our favourite monégasque even when i wrote this in the middle of my study break ౨ৎ

the orange peel theory: inherited from the psychological ideology surrounding one's willingness to commit acts of service for a loved one because they care ie. peeling an orange to make it more easily enjoyable.

A slow afternoon in late August – the sweet serenity of virgo season – where the skies are a mosaic of white clouds against the pale heavens, white lilies flourishing in a water glass upon the oak coffee table, a lingering aroma of a strawberry cake baked and left to set a few hours before.

After a morning of almond croissants and cappuccino at the Café de Flore, sunbathing for several hours, talking in the intimacy of lovers and walking around the familiar streets, you and your boyfriend are most content to spend the remaining hours in the peaceful ambience of home.

He is stood by the marble-polished kitchenette counter absently perusing through mail, handsome as ever: soft, brunet hair slightly tousled where he has not trimmed it recently in a manner you love; sun-kissed with the hints of subtle freckles against the bridge of his nose; white, linen shirt half-unbuttoned.

"Hm," Half lost in your own daydreams and musings, distracted from where you had previously been crocheting a gift for your mother from your comfortable seat about the plush sofa, re-watching Breakfast at Tiffany's, you wander quietly into the room.

Initially, your gaze falls to where Charles is stood, some desire to approach and bury yourself in his embrace most alluring, until eyes flicker towards the nearby porcelain bowl where recently-bought clementines sit, thoughts drifting elsewhere about the remembered conversation with your friends the week before.

When you let own settle in your grasp lightly – the Monégasque momentarily showing no sign of acknowledgement minus the ghost of a palm that comes to your lower back whilst his gaze remains on the intricate writing of a letter – there is a near-minute of lulling quietude as you merely gaze at it before sighing in supposed, audible defeat.

"Troubles, bébé?"

His voice is calm, almost a little teasing but genuinely intrigued. The endearment is enough for you to feel a slight warmth in the depth of your stomach like dancing butterflies, his eyes dancing over you momentarily, though you merely offer a gentle, vague shrug of your shoulders to begin with whilst shifting the citrus in your touch between manicured nails, "I kind of want one, but..."

Charles arches a handsome eyebrow in wordless inquiry, the paper held against the light callouses of his palm forgotten when he silently offers an opened hand that – with hitched breath and subtle uncertainty – you place the clementine upon.

He does not seem to question your demeanour or reluctance, merely working on deftly removing the thin rind before the sweet, alluring scent is all the more prominent harmony of its citrus fragrance to its nakedness before he's offering you a single segment with the beginning of a dimpled smirk, "Voila."

Flushing a little and hoping the rosiness of a blush is not perceptible along your neck or the apples of your cheeks, you merely meet his gaze through your lashes as you indulge in the sweetness of it slowly, swallowing.

Through your clothes and within your ribs, you can feel how your heart flutters a touch quicker like a sweet dove trying to flee its gilt cage.

"Thank you." Punctuated by the meeting of mouths in a slow, sensual kiss that begins chastely until he cannot quite convince himself to drawn away, the peeled clementine forgotten to the side on the marble whilst fingertips trace the curve of your waist through soft cashmere.

"Avec plaisir."

You will certainly have to notify your friends about your own experiences surrounding the recently-tried theory and its heartfelt success of a result.

© missydior

[vscabarca]

how about a gavi fic where they’ve been dating for a long time but long distance so the whole relationship is basically a secret and the public finds out and the internet sort of breaks and keeps commenting on how gavi is so different with her. if you do end up liking this and writing this please tag me <33

sant jordi - pablo gavi

summary: you visit your long-distance boyfriend Gavi and he accidentally hard launches your relationship.

genre: fluff!

a/n: @weekendlusting that request was so cute, thank you for your patience!🫶🏼 Also, i was listening to this song while writing, check it out for the full experience;)

———

Exhausted, you placed your school bag onto the floor of your hallway, walking towards the darkly lit living room. Just as you sat down, your phone buzzed and Pablo appeared on the screen.

With an immediate smile, you pressed the green button, accepting his call.

„Hello my love.“ He chimed, already laying in bed with his hood up.

„Hey amor.“ You tiredly answered, now also kicking your feet upon the couch.

„How was your day?“

„Exhausing but I wrote my last exam today.“ A feeling of relief washed over your body when you realized you‘d have now two weeks of pure relaxation, without having to do any schoolwork. But this feeling of relief was over quickly. Being in another country, several hours away from your boyfriend was hard. Especially if you had now so much freetime, you would love to spend it with Pablo.

„I‘m proud of you. Any plans for the upcoming days?“ Your boyfriend asked while playing with his hair.

„Not much. I wish I could spend them with you, I miss you.“ You pouted, feeling sad for only seeing him through the screen.

„Fly to Barcelona. I‘m having a few days off and I wanna see my gorgeous girl again.“

That’s how you ended up on a plane on a Tuesday, flying two hours to visit your long distance boyfriend for the next week.

The reunion was more than sweet. Pablo surprised you with flowers as he waited in his Audi for you. You two were over four months together, but still kept the relationship from the public. You wouldn’t actively try to keep it a secret, but also didn’t have the need to show everyone you two were together. After all, Pablo was Spain‘s teenage heartthrob and you were just a normal girl going to university.

He drove to his house first, giving you time to freshen up and put down your luggage. As it was the 23rd of April, also known as Diada de Sant Jordi, a catalan holiday, the city was decorated in red roses and Catalan flags.

As you two strolled aimlessly around a more quiet part of the city, Pablo never let go of your hand. To be not recognized too often, he wore his sunglasses and a cap, looking as handsome as ever.

The touch of his hand made you blush and the smile never left your face.

Suddenly, Pablo walked towards a little shop at the end of the street. It was so small you wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for your boyfriend. Outside, there was a shelf filled with second-hand books and roses. Like the tradition says, Pablo grabbed a book with the most romantic title and went inside to pay. He stood in front of you, his signature smile plastered across his face as he gave you the book and the red rose.

„Feliz dia de Sant Jordi mi amor.“ You couldn’t help but blush, your face turning red from the charm of your boyfriend.

„Muchas gracias Pablito.“ You mused and stepped closer to press a gentle but yet passionate kiss onto his lips.

After you two enjoyed a fun day in Barcelona, you headed back home to cook dinner and have a relaxing night together.

During cooking and occasionally dancing to the music playing in the background, your phone started buzzing almost every two seconds. At first you dismissed it, thinking it was your friend filling you in on one of her hookup stories, but even Pablo turned his head in curiosity after the buzzing wouldn’t stop several minutes later.

„Don’t you think it’s important? It won’t stop.“ He asked with furrowed eyebrows, just as confused as you were. Your phone screen was flooded with people you barely knew asking about Gavi. Gavi here Gavi there, things like „you’re really together?“ or „could you ask him to sign me something?.“

It was so confusing until one of your family members told you to check Pablo‘s instagram.

You opened the app, seeing your boyfriend posted a story. Clicking on it, you saw a picture of you, holding the rose and book in your hands. Written was next to it „Feliz dia de sant jordi mi amor💞“

The blood froze in your veins. Did Pablo realize he just hard launched you?

„PABLO! why did you post me on your instagram account?“ You asked, eyes wide while he just shrugged his shoulders.

„I always do that. I thought you were okay with me posting you on my private account. You know only my family and close friends follow that account.“

Now it dawned on you. Pablo mistakenly posted the picture on his official account, the one with sixteen million followers instead of his private one with only twenty-seven.

„Baby… Of course I‘m okay with that, but you posted it on your main one. The one with sixteen million followers.“ You started laughing in despair, finding the situation oddly funny, even though whole Spain now knew about your relationship with the famous footballer.

Pablo grew red, standing in front of you in horror as he took a look himself.

„Fuck… I‘m so sorry. I swear I didn’t want to post that on there.“

„It‘s fine. I bet there are picture of us anyway from today.“ You said and assured him it was alright. He embraced you in a hug, kissing your head softly.

„At least I don’t have to hide you anymore.“

———

footy.gossip: teenage heartthrob Pablo Gavi is not on the love market anymore ladies!💔

He was seen spending the romantic holiday Sant Jordi with a mysterious girl by his side, buying her roses and a book. What a true gentleman!

view all comments:

user1: she’s really living the Y/N lifestyle…

user2: Gavi is for sure such a sucker for his girlfriend

->user3: I mean you can even see the heart eyes behind the sunglasses😭

pedri: yn finally you came to visit… he wouldn’t shut his mouth

->pablogavi: how could I not

->user4: HE‘S NOT EVEN DENYING IT??

user5: not pedri exposing gavi😭😭

user6: WE WANT A GF REVEAL!!

user7: I just know she dresses him

->user8: fr, the change from skinny jeans to this is a blessing

->user9: pedri step up your game

user10: don’t know who the girl is but… mamá y papá.

author: wish that was you huh?🫵🏻🤨

———

pablogavi: whoops accidental hard launch… anyway yn te amoo🫶🏼

comments are turned off

[shhhsecretsideblog]

No Time To Hide

This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics

Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.

Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.

Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.

A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.

The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.

Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.

“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.

When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.

Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.

As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.

Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.

“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”

Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.

“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.

However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.

Witch hunter!

The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.

Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.

She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.

Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.

“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.

After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.

She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.

The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.

The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.

“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.

“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.

It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.

The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.

“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.

Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.

She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.

A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!

But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.

Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.

“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”

More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.

Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.

An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.

The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.

The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!

Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.

She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.

Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.

“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.

Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.

“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.

Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.

Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.

The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.

“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.

“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.

The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.

“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”

Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!

The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.

Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.

Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.

“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”

She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.

Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.

“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.

Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.

“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.

Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.

“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.

Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.

The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.

Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.

Eva dropped the knife.

Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.

[frankenkyle19]

You Can If You Want

words count: 2.2k

warnings/description: Kit Walker x Virgin!reader, smut, handjobs, blowjobs, heavy petting, spit, soft!dom Kit, fingering, p in v, Kit Walker being too hot for his own good, I think that’s it. Not proofread, wrote in like an hour please forgive me

Kit reasoned that he had an average sex drive for a man his age. It was something he thoroughly enjoyed not just for his own pleasure, but for his partners as well. Kit was a very attentive lover, putting the needs of others before himself. In fact, their pleasure only intensified his own. 

He was gentle, but could be rough if asked. He was very versatile and while usually vanilla in bed, it was anything but boring. That’s when he met you. The innocent young lady who took an instant liking to him. You’d heard his reputation around town from the other women. How good he was in bed, but the idea of it scared you a bit. You were a virgin, having never had a ‘real’ relationship before. You took to Kit instantly. You two met in a diner and he’d asked you out on a date. And of course, since you weren’t stupid, you said yes.

He was patient with you, and never pushed you to do something you didn’t want to. He let you take the lead. Call the shots. Your first kiss with him was electric, and you immediately wanted more. But no. You wanted to go slow with this. Kit did too. He wanted you to really be ready and never feel pressured to do anything like that just for him. 

Your kisses soon turned to full make out sessions with you sliding into Kit’s lap, your lips connected as you wrapped your arms around his neck, desperately pulling him closer. You’d never felt like this before. For anyone. It all felt so surreal. How had you found the perfect man?

Your makeout sessions usually ended as such. Just kissing. Until your touches began to get a bit bolder, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling his bare skin against yours. It made you shiver with anticipation. Mind racing with the dirtiest of thoughts.

And then there was tonight. It started as a few simple kisses until it turned into another makeout session. Something very common between the two of you. You were seated in his lap, chasing his lips with your own when your hand reached down and gently cupped his half hard bulge.

Kit tensed, meeting your eyes, his own dark ones blown wide.

“Suga- we- ya’ don’t have to do that doll-“ he started, but you pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

“I want to.” You admitted with a blush. You were so curious and wanted nothing more than to finally see him in all his glory. To touch him. Make him feel good. It made your romantic heart flutter. 

“Are you sure?” He placed his hands gently on your shoulders, watching you intently. “I can wait baby. I love you, I just want you to be comfortable.”

Bless his heart. Kit Walker, ever the gentleman. How did you go about telling him you wanted to? That you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted to touch him. See what made him squirm. 

You pressed your hand a bit harder on his bulge and his breath hitched, grinding his hips up against your hand ever so slightly. I mean if you wanted this, he was ever so willing. 

You were so curious, just waiting to see what was under those tight jeans of his. Of course you’d seen a dick or two before, but this was much different. Something so much more special. Sharing this moment with Kit.

You brought your other hand down to unbuckle and slide off his belt, slipping it through the loops until it fell loose. You then worked on the button and zipper of his jeans, getting those undone next. He sighed in relief at the release of tension, and your eyes were glued to his groin. 

Now free of the confines of his more than tight jeans, his cock was filling out even more, poking out of the waistband of his underwear. You swallowed hard, swiping your thumb over the barely visible tip that peeled out of the waistband. Like a little surprise. 

Kit shivered, a quiet groan slipping from his lips and you instantly froze, assuming you’d done something wrong.

Kit peeked down at you, eyebrow raised curiously 

“Something wrong suga?” 

“I just thought- was that a good noise?”

Kit nearly chuckled at your innocence, nodding. “Mhm, a very good noise baby. Ya makin’ me feel soooo good. You can keep going if ya want to.” He said, giving you permission to continue.

And you did. You carefully slipped his jeans down his thighs before doing the same with his underwear, watching as his cock nearly jumped out of you. 

You gasped quietly which brought a quiet amused laugh from Kit’s lips.

“It won’t bite, baby. You can touch if ya want to.”

If you want to.

How he ended all his sentences, constantly reminding you to only do this if you wanted to. 

You nodded and reached out, letting your palm slide against the side of his cock, watching as it reacted to your touch, twitching ever so slightly. You watched in awe, completely enthralled. 

Kit smiled fondly at you before he leaned his head back, swallowing hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as his throat was bared.

You looked back up at him and the way your innocent eyes shimmered with a devilish look nearly made Kit cum that very second.

“Can you show me how?” You asked, glancing back down at his cock that was now leaking pre-cum from the slit.

Kit nodded, eyes glazed over a bit from the pleasure that you were bringing. He took your hand and carefully wrapped it around his cock, applying decent pressure.

“Just- Mm- just like that suga. Ya just move your hand up and down, feels so good.” He assured, letting go of your hand and letting you try it for yourself.

Your hand barely wrapped around his girth and you seriously questioned how that would fit inside you. No matter, you weren’t there yet. You’d worry about it when it came time to.

You let out a pleased laugh. He was so warm, so hard but the skin was so soft. It was a feeling you could get used to. You did as he said, letting your hand slide up and down. Kit hummed contently before opening his mouth to guide you once more.

“Ya can spit on it too. Helps let your hand slide over it easier.” He suggested, helping you figure out what to do.

You let the saliva collect in your mouth for a second before you leaned down, letting a string of it slip from your mouth. The second it landed on the tip of Kit’s cock, a strangled moan came from his mouth, nearly scaring you.

He was getting progressively more worked up, his chest rising and falling a little heavier than before. 

You smeared your spit across his cock with the palm of your hand, causing Kit to buck into said hand with a quiet sigh of pleasure.

“Just like that suga. Feels amazin’” his accent got heavier just as his breathing had, letting himself go a bit more as things progressed. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillows of his bed, sighing happily.

You leaned down curiously, his cock right in front of your face and you carefully stuck your tongue out and let it run across the thick head of it.

Kit’s head shot right back up, watching you intensely as you ran your tongue along his length. The taste as a bit salty, a bit bitter, but it was Kit.

“You don’t gotta do that suga-“ he said, not wanting you to feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want.

You rolled your eyes a bit and continued your adventure across his length, humming as you wrapped your lips around him finally. The stretch of your lips and the full feeling in your mouth was new. Interesting. But you enjoyed it. Especially seeing how it affected the man above you.

“Ya can’t look that innocent takin’ me like that baby- mmm f-fuck-“

Kit didn’t cuss much, so you knew he was beginning to lose control. And you found yourself wanting him to.

He let you do as you wanted for a while before he pulled you off of him, much to your dismay.

“Was it not good?” You asked, immediately assuming you’d done something wrong.

Kit shook his head, a blush appearing on his already flushed cheeks.

“No baby- no I just- I was close… didn’t want to cum in your mouth.” He said, avoiding your gaze. Oh, so he was the shy one now? You’d explore that more in the future.

“Kit please. I want this. Want you to take my virginity.” You hadn’t ever been very serious about any of that, wasn’t planning on waiting till marriage. Just… waiting for the right person, and you knew in your heart that person was Kit. The one you trusted enough to share this experience with. Who you knew wouldn’t judge you for any of it.

Kit pulled you into a kiss before his hands found their way to your little skirt, slipping easily under it. His thumb found your clothed slit and grinned at feeling how wet you’d become for him. He wanted to make this as painless as possible for you, so he wanted to try and open you up on his fingers first before he even attempted with his cock.

He laid you down against the bed, looking down at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his lips.

“Just relax for me suga, yeah? Gonna make ya feel real good. Such a good girl, all for me.” He hummed, his words sending a heavy shiver down your spine, through all your nerve endings.

You nodded, arching into his touch as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

His fingers instantly found their way to your core and you gasped as he slipped a finger into you, easily. It felt odd, but you had experimented with your own pleasure before, so it wasn’t completely foreign.  

It went like that for a while, Kit easing you into it, the whole time leaving gentle kisses all over your body, making you blush. 

Eventually he had three fingers inside you, and it was a bit uncomfortable but not overbearingly so. You just felt full and you couldn’t even begin to fathom how full his cock would make you feel.

“I’m ready, Kit. Please. I want it. Want you.” You begged, writhing underneath him with a frustrated huff.

He carefully peeled off the rest of his clothes as well as yours, situating himself between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance.

“Look at me, look at me suga. If it hurts too much, if you’re uncomfortable or if you just aren’t feeling it you tell me and we stop. Okay?” He pressed the softest of kisses to your forehead, one of his hands reaching for your own and holding it gently, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

You could probably cry at this moment. How sweet he was. How much he cared about you. It was so overwhelming in the best ways.

You nodded at his words, pulling him down into another kiss as he slowly slowly began to push himself into you. It hadn’t hurt at first, but at a certain point he hit resistance and it hurt like hell. You winced, squeezing his hand tightly in your own, clenching your eyes shut. Kit whispered sweet nothings in your ear and placed gentle kisses across your neck and shoulders. 

You zoned out a bit, trying to think of anything but the pain when Kit gently tapped your shoulder.

“Hardest parts over suga. I’m all the way in.” He said softly, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips.

A relieved sigh left your lips, the intense burning feeling fading into a dull pain. Kit leaned against you, not daring to move until you assured him you were ready, and when he got the go ahead, he pulled out slowly almost all the way until thrusting back in, still being careful to be gentle.

You never knew what you had expected to come with sex, but you never thought it could be so tender. It didn’t have to be fast and rough to be good. Sure you could see yourself enjoying that in the future but right now in this moment, you felt wonderful. 

He began to tremble above you and even though you’d never experienced it before, you knew he was close to his release. He reached down and gently rubbed circles across your clit, the pleasure spiking. Suddenly you felt very hot and tight. Your bottom lip trembled as you looked up at him, silently telling him you were close.

He smiled softly, knowingly as he continued what he was doing, and soon you were falling over the edge, throwing your head back, your breath quickening and your chest heaving. It felt so intense. So good. So much better than all the times you’d pleasured yourself.

Kit went to pull out of you, to release across your chest, but you wrapped your legs around his waist and kept him in place.

“Inside. Please baby.”

Those words alone sent him straight over the edge and he gasped, leaning over you with a groan as you felt him fill you up.

You held him to your chest as you both caught your breath and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky. 

[littledollll]

Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one

AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES

It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get

Private lessons

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.

HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!

Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa

_______________________________

“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.

Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.

“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”

One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.

Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.

“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.

You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”

You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”

Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.

When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.

When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.

“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.

“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”

By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.

“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.

Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”

You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.

“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”

She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.

“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.

“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”

“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”

“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.

Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.

“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”

“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.

“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”

You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”

“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.

“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.

Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”

“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”

“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”

“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.

Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.

“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.

“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”

You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”

You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.

Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.

Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.

Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”

You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.

“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.

Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.

“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”

You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.

This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”

It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”

“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.

With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.

“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”

“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”

You smiled, “yeah it did help..”

“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.

It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.

She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.

“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”

You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”

“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.

Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.

[aemondwhoresworld]

SYRENA — PROLOGUE

pairing: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

summary: on her ten-and-eight name day, her father, the king viserys i targaryen promise y/n she can have whatever she wish for since it’s her name day, even a man that she always been dreamed about. ser gwayne hightower

part of series: SYRENA | word-count: 3,3k

inspo: syrena by kiki rockwell

warning: angst to fluff, arrange marriage, infidelity, mention of cheating, use of y/n, aemma arryn still alive in this, etc.

au: i am a long time reader but this is my 3rd time to write, so there will might be a mistake here and there, english is not my first language, i did use google translate for some part, also use an online high valyrian translator. any feedback, comment, like and reblog are the motivation for me to wrote next part of this series (if you wanted to), and also please if you have any idea to add into to this, that’s would be lovely too!! anyways i hope you enjoy my first ever series

DIVIDER by targaryen-dynasty

There was a calmness that filled the room, with only the gentle sound of breathing and the feeling of anticipation in the air. "The hour of the wolf" — that period when the night has not yet fully faded, but dawn has yet to arrive — is a time you rarely experience. Though there is a hint of fatigue, something within you waits for those first rays of light.

You sense the silence of the space around you, yet within, there is a strange liveliness, as though you are grasping a precious and fragile moment between the vague and the real. Gradually, you begin to notice the gentle light from outside creeping in, stirring you from the initial stillness.

Could today be a special day? Yes, it is indeed, King Viserys I Targaryen, the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms name day

The hurried footsteps and the clatter of armor outside blend with the room’s tranquility, creating an interesting contrast. It seems the world outside is bustling and hurried with its tasks, while you remain in the calm and peaceful atmosphere of your bedchamber.

The soft fragrance of flowers and scented candles from the previous night still lingered, creating a soothing and comforting atmosphere. These scents seemed to evoke memories of a peaceful, long night, where you could let yourself sink into a deep sleep without the worries of the outside world other duties that come with being a Princess.

The bedroom retained its warmth and familiarity, like a small haven shielding you from the chaos and stress of life outside. In this moment, you felt a sense of safety and tranquility within your private space, before stepping out to face the world.

The gentle footsteps of Elin, your handmaiden, echoed faintly from outside the door — a sound you had grown so familiar with that you recognized it without needing to look. No matter what state you were in, her footsteps always brought a sense of reassurance and comfort. In this Keep, respect was expressed through small gestures, such as how Elin patiently knocked before entering, even knowing you might still be asleep. She understood every small detail of your life, from daily habits to personal preferences, ensuring that you always felt respected and properly cared for.

The sound of her footsteps and knocking served as the beginning of a new day, carrying with them the peace and care that Elin always provided. Your only true friend.

Elin entered with a concerned expression, her eyes showing a hint of confusion when she saw you were already awake. Her voice was gentle but filled with sincere care, “Princess, did I make too much noise and wake you?” Elin knew you were usually a deep sleeper, nearly impossible to rouse, but today was an exception.

She stood there holding the items for your morning routine — a soft towel, a bottle of scented water, and a few delicate vials of essential oils. Elin's face showed slight unease as she realized you had risen before dawn, something she had never witnessed. Nevertheless, her eyes still reflected the caution and readiness to serve.

You smiled gently at her, your gaze softening to ease her worries. “It’s fine, Elin, I simply wanted to wake up early today,” you replied with a calm yet authoritative tone. Slowly, you sat up, feeling each muscle stretch as you raised your arms to loosen your body. The gentle sensation spread through your limbs, bringing full alertness to your mind.

You stood, letting the faint morning light filter through the curtains and touch your skin. The sounds from outside continued, but now, you no longer paid them any mind. You stepped into a small private chamber separated by a wooden door, a space where you often found peace and privacy.

This room, though simple, was where you felt most at ease — a sanctuary for personal moments amidst the rush of palace life. Elin remained still behind you, patiently waiting, as always, ready to assist you with your morning preparations with unwavering dedication and loyalty.

Elin carefully helped you into a deep crimson gown, a garment of refined craftsmanship and elegance. Every stitch was made with meticulous attention, reflecting the dignity of House Targaryen. The gown was gently cinched at the waist, accentuating your figure, and the intricate patterns on the collar, bearing the Targaryen sigil, served as a reminder of the thick dragon's blood running through your veins.

Elin continued her familiar, deliberate movements, fastening a pair of ruby earrings to your ears — the deep red stones matching your gown perfectly. These earrings were more than just accessories; they were a meaningful gift from Rhaenyra, the sister you admired and loved dearly. You raised a hand to adjust the earrings, ensuring they sat perfectly in place.

This piece of jewelry had become an inseparable part of you, a symbol of loyalty and attachment. When you wore them, you not only felt protected by your family’s love but also imbued with strength, confidence, and the determination to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Elin finished her task, stepping back to admire her work. You stood there in the crimson gown, the ruby earrings sparkling like symbols of power and eternity.

You paused briefly, gazing at your reflection in the mirror, then called out, “Come in,” your voice just loud enough to carry through the door, summoning the person outside.

The door opened slowly and carefully. Someone entered with respect, creating no loud noises or disturbances in your peaceful space. The light from the hallway trickled into the room, but it could not overpower the serenity within.

Rhaenyra entered, her eyes lighting up with mild surprise at the sight of you already dressed. 

“Sister” she called, her voice carrying its familiar warmth, though she couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Nyra,” you responded with a soft smile, meeting her gaze directly. Both of you were well-acquainted with each other’s small jokes, and immediately, Rhaenyra burst into laughter, teasing you, 

“Oh, right on time! I thought you would still be struggling to get out of bed.” Her voice carried a hint of humor, as if she was intentionally trying to provoke a reaction from you.

You smiled, your eyes sparkling. "It's Father's birthday today, so I have to do something to surprise him… to make him proud," you replied with a tone that was both slightly excited and mature. Both of you understood that this wasn’t just any day; it was an occasion to honor and reinforce the bonds of your family.

In the early morning light, which now allowed you to clearly see Rhaenyra, you and your sister shared this intimate moment, filled with love and a deep connection between the two of you. The morning had not fully dawned yet, but you could sense that this day would be memorable, full of unexpected events, and, most importantly, marked by the presence of family love in every moment.

“Come, father and mother and others are waiting for us to break our fast together”

Rhaenyra smiled and extended her hand towards you, a familiar gesture since you were both children. You took her hand, feeling the warmth and comfort that she always brought. Despite your age, this vast Red Keep still felt like a labyrinth at times, and Rhaenyra’s presence always made you feel less lost.

The two of you walked together through the long, cold corridors of the Red Keep, where the early morning light had only just begun to filter through. As you approached the breakfast room of House Targaryen, you saw your father, King Viserys, seated regally at the head of the table. To his right was your mother, Aemma Arryn, her face gentle yet carrying the characteristic contemplative expression she always wore. Rhaenyra took her seat to his left, and you sat beside your mother, feeling the bond and tranquility of family in the air.

Alicent Hightower, daughter of Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, sat beside Rhaenyra. Alicent always maintained a polite and reserved demeanor, though her presence within the Targaryen family created an unspoken distance that you could never quite overlook.

You approached King Viserys, looking into his kind eyes. “Good morrow, and Happy name day, father” you said softly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his weathered cheek, marked by age and the heavy burdens of kingship. His face brightened with a warm smile as he responded, 

“Thank you, my dear daughter.”

As you and Rhaenyra approached the table, Otto Hightower looked up, nodding in greeting with a deep, courteous tone, "Good morrow, Princesses." You returned the nod, maintaining your poised demeanor as a princess, “Morrow, Otto.” Your gaze quickly shifted to Alicent, who always wore a calm and pleasant expression.

Alicent offered you a soft smile, her face friendly but composed, a subtle gesture of polite acknowledgment. You responded with a gentle smile of your own, one that was both delicate yet sincere, showing respect and a sense of connection between the two of you. In this royal space, every gesture and glance carried layers of meaning far deeper than words, and you recognized that despite the complexities surrounding you, moments like this still managed to create a brief sense of peace.

The morning light gradually filled the room, and you could feel the harmony among the family members, at least during this breakfast. The exchanged smiles, though subtle, brought a warmth that momentarily alleviated the heavy responsibilities and power that came with being part of the Targaryen bloodline.

You smiled softly at your mother before taking your seat beside her. The breakfast proceeded in a warm, cozy atmosphere, the gentle clink of cutlery mingling with the light yet meaningful conversations. King Viserys and Otto Hightower discussed tonight’s grand feast — a significant event where all the Lords and Ladies from across the realm were invited to celebrate.

You quietly enjoyed your meal, listening to the conversation and savoring the rare moment of calm, even though you knew that for kings and nobles, such peace could vanish at any moment. Yet, for this morning, everything seemed to be in its rightful place.

After breaking your fast, you retreated to your favorite place: the library. This was the space you always sought whenever you wanted to escape the pressures of royal life, or simply when you desired solitude. Surrounding you were towering bookshelves, filled with countless precious volumes. You immersed yourself in the world of stories and knowledge, a sense of peace washing over you as you turned the pages.

You were halfway through reading one of your favorite books, allowing yourself to get lost in its captivating words. But then, the sound of commotion from the carriages outside reached your ears, breaking the quiet of the library. Cheers of excitement, particularly the enthusiastic voice of Alicent, echoed through the thick walls. Clearly, something exciting had just happened outside, but you found yourself uninterested.

Ignoring the noise, you tried to refocus on the book in your hands. The letters on the pages filled your mind, drawing you back into the story, as if offering you an escape from the stirrings of palace life. You were aware that there were many important matters happening outside, but in this moment, the world within the pages was all you needed.

The outdoor luncheon had been in full swing for some time, the air lively with laughter, conversation, and the pleasant clatter of utensils creating a cheerful and relaxed atmosphere. You stood with Rhaenyra, nibbling on a few delightful dishes and chatting, occasionally breaking into laughter that mingled with the festive ambiance. But in a brief moment, you noticed that Alicent was nowhere to be seen, which caused you a flicker of surprise.

Just as you began to wonder about her, Alicent appeared in the distance, approaching with a radiant smile on her face.

"Princess, allow me to introduce Ser Gwayne Hightower, my brother from Oldtown," Alicent said with pride evident in her voice. You looked beyond her and saw a tall young man with auburn hair and striking blue eyes. Ser Gwayne was clad in gleaming armor, the collar of his cloak bearing the sigil of House Hightower, a clear symbol of his family’s status.

"It is an honor to meet you, Princess," Ser Gwayne said with formal grace. He bowed slightly, lifting your hand and placing a gentle kiss upon it, a sign of his respect.

You smiled faintly, your voice soft yet firm, a clear reflection of your station, "The honor is mine." Without another word, you turned and walked away, your steps deliberately slow as you made your way towards the royal gardens — a place where you always found peace on bright, sunny days.

As you reached a quieter part of the garden, you suddenly heard your name called from behind. You paused, a hint of surprise in your eyes. Ser Gwayne's voice reached you, 

"Might I escort you for a while, or perhaps join you for a walk through the gardens?"

You turned back to find Ser Gwayne standing there, his eyes expectant. Patience was etched on his face, as though he would wait for as long as necessary for your response, fully respectful of your every move.

"If that is your wish, Ser," you replied, your tone distant yet polite. You resumed your walk, hearing the hurried steps of Ser Gwayne behind you as he tried to match your pace. In the stillness of the garden, you wondered what this knight from Oldtown might bring into the already intricate web of your life.

Ser Gwayne walked beside you in the garden, a slightly improper gesture since a knight is typically expected to follow a few steps behind a princess. However, you did not mind, as he posed no apparent threat to you. After a lengthy stroll, the two of you arrived at the area with the stone benches where you often rested. You sat down on the intricately carved bench, while Ser Gwayne stood nearby, his demeanor somewhat reserved.

Noticing this, you broke the silence 

"Ser Gwayne, you may sit with me," you said, lightly patting the empty space beside you, signaling for him to sit.

"Is that appropriate, Princess?" he asked, his tone tinged with concern. As a knight, Ser Gwayne was fully aware of the consequences of any misstep regarding you—it would be considered treason, a fate no one, especially he, wished to face.

"Of course," you replied, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye, "Your princess permits it." You smiled mischievously, as if to test his nervousness. Ser Gwayne responded with a slight smile before sitting down beside you.

The two of you gazed at the garden together, watching the flowers gently sway in the breeze. You shared with each other your personal interests, hobbies, small yet captivating stories. Time seemed to pass quickly, and by now, the sun had begun to set, signaling that the evening feast was near.

"I think it's time I return to my chambers to prepare for the feast," you said softly, smiling as you stood up. You bowed gracefully before turning to leave.

But before you could take a step, Ser Gwayne offered, "Then let me escort you," his voice still warm and courteous.

You gently shook your head in refusal, your tone light but firm “There is no need, Ser Gwayne”. You wished to avoid any rumors that might disturb your life or tarnish both your reputations. Smiling, you bid him farewell and turned to walk towards the stairs leading into the Red Keep, heading to your chambers to prepare for the grand feast tonight.

The friendship between you and Ser Gwayne began to blossom through the intimate and profound conversations you shared during his stay in King's Landing. Before meeting him, your life seemed to revolve around books and solitary strolls in the garden. But since Ser Gwayne’s arrival, he has filled those lonely voids, bringing new joy and happiness into your life.

Despite the age difference, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling deeper into your feelings for Ser Gwayne. The meetings and conversations with him made you realize that your heart had begun to stir, and that love was growing increasingly intense. Just at the age of ten and six

Ser Gwayne’s presence had transformed your life, bringing emotions you had never experienced before. Are you ready to face the challenges and difficulties that this relationship may bring, especially when Ser Gwayne must leave?

You had just dismounted your dragon, feeling the cool breeze as you touched the ground. After handing Matarys to the dragonkeeper, you began to walk inside the Red Keep. Not far in, you encountered Rhaenyra, the sister you always trusted. She approached you, her eyes showing a mix of concern and sadness.

“Since Ser Gwayne arrived, I’ve seen you much happier, dear sister” Rhaenyra began, her voice filled with genuine concern. It was clear she was worried that what she was about to say would bring you sadness.

You looked at her anxiously, your heart filled with emotion, and urged her, “Oh Nyra, just tell me already.”

Rhaenyra took a deep breath and then slowly said, “Ser Gwayne is preparing to return to Oldtown.”

Before your sister could say anything more, you felt your heart clench. You brushed past Rhaenyra, quickly making your way towards the door leading to the front courtyard. It didn’t take long to find him; with just a glance, you recognized the familiar figure of Ser Gwayne, who was preparing to depart.

You approached Ser Gwayne, gently placing your hand on his shoulder, feeling the firmness through his armor. Ser Gwayne turned his head, his eyes briefly showing surprise upon seeing you. But soon after, you could see a sadness in his eyes. Those eyes seemed to reflect his inner turmoil — not just about leaving his loved ones in Kings Landing, but also about parting from you, someone he had grown attached to.

The two of you stood there, your eyes meeting in a moment of silence. In his eyes, you recognized a deep sorrow, perhaps similar to what you were feeling in your heart. No one knew when you might meet again, and that only made this moment all the more difficult.

Ser Gwayne softly broke the silence, as if to lighten the heavy atmosphere, 

“Princess Y/n,” he addressed you, acknowledging your presence, before continuing, “Is there something I can do for you, Princess?”

You ignored his question, your emotions welling up, allowing you only to say, “Ser Gwayne… I did not expect you to leave so soon.” Your words were filled with uncertainty, but also a hint of shyness and hesitation.

Ser Gwayne looked directly at you, his expression softening. “I apologize, Princess, but I didn’t expect me to leave so soon either,” he said, his tone tinged with regret. He had turned fully towards you, facing you so he could see your face more clearly. Before you could respond, he continued, “But I promise you, Princess, that once I’m in Oldtown, I will write to you often.”

Ser Gwayne’s promise offered some comfort, but it couldn’t dispel the sadness in your heart. You could only nod and reply in a soft voice, “I will wait for your letters, Gwayne.”

Not wanting to prolong the farewell, you quickly turned and walked back inside the Red Keep. You knew that if you stayed longer, watching Ser Gwayne leave on horseback, you might not be able to bear the pain.

As you entered, Rhaenyra was waiting, wrapping you in her warm embrace. She gently stroked your silver-blonde hair and, with a soothing voice, reassured you, “Ziry jāhor māzigon arlī.” But at that moment, those comforting words couldn’t stop you from breaking down into tears. The sobs wracked your body, leaving you unable to speak, as you leaned into your sister’s arms, letting the pain slowly subside.

“He will come back” You whispers in your thought

[to be continue...]

please let me know what you think about this first chapter of my first series!!! please be nice and thank you so much for reading til the very end

add yourself into this series taglist HERE

taglist: @allyly ; @moonfl3uur ; @secretf1lms ; @anpacax0 ; @beebeechaos ; @tatolover0821 ; @sachaa-ff ; @coubalts ; @scarlettsft ; @lunaloomer ; @scarlettsft ; @liafiction ; @dunevitani ; @mimivtaem

[star-suh]

Best Hole

Nakamoto Yuta x Male Reader

cw: top yuta, sub-ish slutty yn, cheating, breeding, blowjob, deepthroat, degradation, fingering, implied impregnation kink.

an: first story of this year!!, it was almost a month since i wrote something, i feel kinda rusty so ntm with this one 😭

—

yuta was opening the door to his house while a tipsy yn was next to him. they both went out to celebrate that tomorrow is yuta's wedding, however, yn drank too much and ended up getting a little drunk so they had to return home.

“we're finally here” sighed yuta throwing the keys to the nearest table, then he lifted yn and took him to his bed.

they were both lying in the same bed when suddenly yuta feels yn rubbing himself on his leg, "yn what are you doing" the groom asked, yn didn't respond he just moaned, "umm.. yn?" he asked again. “i need you” were the only words that came out of his best friend mouth.

“what are you talking about yn? do you realize my wedding is in some hours… i-i can't fuck you..” yuta blurted out. “please no one would know about that” yn was so needy for yuta, his face was too red “please at least just for tonight”.

“you know i like it rough yn. how you're gonna walk tomorrow to attend my wedding?” yn didn't answered he just went straight to yuta's bulge and began to sniff it, “fine but just remember” yuta grabbed yn by his chin and made eye contact with him “i warned you, it's not gonna be my fault if you can't walk tomorrow” and with one gentle slap on yn's left cheek he unzipped his pants, freeing his big heavy cock “go on” the top demanded.

yn started to kiss the tip, licking some of the pre-cum. his tongue going up and down the shaft making sure to lick every vein and every inch of it. “look at you so needy for my cock, you're like a whore.. fuck.. a filthy one.. look at you gagging over a committed man's cock” said yuta between pants and whimpers. yn enjoyed how yuta was treating him, one of his hands went towards his pants, discarding it and then started to finger himself, “come yn i know you can do more than that. put it all inside you” ordered yuta. yn slowly went down, swallowing every inch little by little until it was all the way inside “there you go now hold on a little. breathe through your nose" the top reminded yn.

yn was making a mess with yuta's cock, he would kiss it, sniff it and then rub it all over his face leaving it soaked with the thick saliva, “look at you.. ahh~ so desperate for my cock” yuta laughed wiping some tears from yn's eyes. yn accelerated the pace of his blowjob, waiting eagerly to taste yuta's cum, “stop yn” he obeyed, "what's wrong?" he asked. "i want to cum .. but inside you" he panted, "come on, ride me" yuta lay back on the bed placing his hands behind his head and letting yn do all the work.

yn tried to take it all at once but it was so thick, the burning sensation of the stretch making him moan loudly "breathe a little" mentions yuta, and with just a thrust he manages to be completely inside the bottom, "shit, you're squeezing me too much" the tall one moaned "start moving those hips, you dirty slut”. yn's ass went up and down, yuta was amazed watching how his cock dissapeared inside that ass “you're taking me so well slut. not even my soon-to-be wife can take me all”. “shit yuta.. so am i better than your wife?” yn started to question him as a way to rile him up more “are you gonna fuck your wife like this?. everytime you fuck her you gonna think it's m–” yuta flipped him over not letting him finish the question, he was now lying with his back against the bed, yuta grabbed him by his knees, bringing them close to his chest and started drilling him "you're a filthy bitch, you know? i’m not going to stop until i fill you up with my cum”; “yes, please” yn moaned "i want it all inside me, give it all to me” he begged.

"tell me, even after getting married you're still going to give me your filthy hole huh? are you going to keep spreading these legs for me?" yuta asked feeling that delicious sensation in his lower tummy. “yes yuta, i will always be your bitch, this hole belongs to you so you can do whatever you want with it, let's make a lot of babies behind your eife's back”.

“for fuck's sake yn, shut your fucking mouth, heavens... if you keep talking like that, i’m not going to stop fucking you all night” yuta says, "is it a deal then? are you going to be my side bitch?" he questions to which yn responds quickly without thinking "yes yuta i’m just a hole for you to breed whenever you want”. that was yuta's last straw, he came inside yn's ruined hole, but he didn't take it out, something that make yn to look at him with concern, "i warned you not to keep talking like that, i guess we won't sleep tonight”

the next day during the wedding after party yuta was happy with his new wife celebrating and dancing, while yn was with slight dark circles under his eyes, a hoarse voice and struggling to walk, looking for some liquor to wet his throat “fucking yuta you almost destroyed me” he murmurs drinking all the content of the cup all at once.