wandanatswitch

[wandanatswitch]

natalie scatorccio x bitchy fem!cheerleader!reader (smut)

synopsis: you and nat absolutely *despise* each other - constantly at each other's throats. but what happens when you both end up in a party bathroom together?

a/n: this is my first fic... like, ever - so if this is trash i'm sorryyyyy LMAOO.

wc: 1.8k

WARNINGS (pls do not read if any of these make you uncomfy!): internalized homophobia (had to do it to 'em), slurs (d*ke), fingering, drinking, rough sex, orgasm denial... i think that's it. lowercase intended! xx

--

you hate natalie’s guts.

it’s ironic - the cheerleader hating the burnout to the core. but she is the most infuriating, blood-boiling, irking, hottest…

wait. what?

ignore that. that’s besides the point. you hate her.

and for natalie? oh… it’s mutual.

you and your airy, condescending laugh, your cheer routines perfected to the stance, one-size-too-small cheer uniform… makes her scowl. makes her bones itch. and her body heat up.

it’s been that way for as long as literally anyone could remember. jabs from either one of you, spewed in scathing venom - not once holding back the low blows, spreading rumors, and hastily scrawled permanent marker slander on bathroom stalls and underneath bleachers. how quaint.

but for each of you, there are feelings. deeply seeded, strongly kept secret feelings that both of you hold. it’s wrong – so, so wrong. but you can’t help it. the way her messy bleached hair sits on her shoulders, the messy and smudged eye makeup, her voice, her-

okaaayyyy. your mind’s going way too far. stop. she’s a girl. you can’t like her. you can’t like a girl. you have to have a boyfriend, and live the perfect, quarterback’s girl life. and natalie doesn’t fit that.

but why does your heart yearn for her? why do your ears strain to hear her voice? why do your eyes wander, hoping to see her in the hallways or even out in public? why do you eagerly volunteer to cheer for her soccer games? you’d go for her, if she wasn’t a her.

cut to tonight, some shitty party at a classmate’s house after exams. you begrudgingly went with your cheer sisters, after they begged you to go - claiming you needed to let loose and forget. if only they knew, the heart palpitations you got, the most UNloose feeling ever - when you saw natalie. 

she was with her other burnout friends, in the corner, nursing a solo cup of god only knows what. laughing, talking - in her stupid leather jacket, and stupid blonde hair, and stupid pretty face…

oh, girl. you need a fucking drink. and drink, you do.

you down shots, mixed drinks, beers… whatever you can get your hands on. intoxication riddles your blood, making everything spin and definitely loosening you up. you dance with your friends, talk, laugh – unaware of the eyes across the room, lingering on your figure.

natalie saw you when you walked in. of course she did, you were wearing next-to-nothing with your friends, hair and makeup done to perfection (like always, with you. it pisses her off). she watched you drink, dance, stumble to the bathroom giggling with your friends… scoffing and muttering shit talk to her friends about you. but in her mind? her heart? her body? she craves you. your soft touches, your kiss, your body against hers, her name falling softly from your mouth. 

oh. my. god. now she needs a drink. 

she branches from her friends, going to the kitchen. she weasels through heated, sweaty bodies to get a drink. she pours more alcohol in her cup, pour some mixer in. she turns to go walk back to her friends, taking a deep breath to steel herself-

shit.

a cold feeling courses through nat’s body as she bumps into someone, consequently spilling a drink all over nat’s front. and… it’s you. 

your body freezes when you realize you just spilled your drink on someone, immediately sobering you up. apologies leave your mouth quickly, like a flurry before you even look up to see who it is.

“what the fuck, dude?”

is what you can hear, that rasp - when you look up, it’s natalie. your apologies stop immediately, turning into a scoff.

“oh… it’s you. never mind. totally not sorry now.” you snark, giggling in that stupid, airy tone.

natalie laughs incredulously and rolls her eyes, shoving your shoulder. “what the fuck is your problem, bitch?”

“‘bitch”?! really?! at least i’m not some burnout, trashy fucking dyke-” you sneer, but you can’t even finish, before she’s yanking your arm, dragging you away.

“you callin’ me a dyke? i’ll show you a goddamn dyke. you need to clean up your mess.”

protests leave your mouth, trying to squirm out of her grasp, but she’s pretty strong - contrary to her scrawnier build. she drags you up the stairs and into a cramped bathroom. she shoves you up against the door, shrugging off her leather jacket and taking off the shirt that you spilled your drink on. 

your eyes widen, roaming over her body, now just in her black jeans and red bra. you can’t help it, you could only dream of seeing her shirtless - in your fantasies wrapped in the comfort of your bed and dominant hand. she notices, laughing mockingly.

“oh, and i’m the dyke? you’re literally eyefucking me right now.”

before you could even spit a harsh comeback, her lips are on yours. you can’t help but kiss back immediately, all “hatred” leaving your mind and being overtaken by the desire you’d been holding back for months. the kiss is hungry, desperate - sloppily bitten lips and tongue all throughout. your hands rest on her nape, while hers grip at your waist and hips, all but tugging you closer as you both consume each other’s mouths. 

as the makeout transpires, clothes get shed from you - leaving you in your bra and panties. natalie moves you to the bathroom counter without breaking the kiss, pulling you up and onto it.

at this point, you’re whining into her mouth, clawing needily at her shoulders to get her closer, and closer, and-

suddenly, her lips are off yours, and you’re being spun around, face pressed against the mirror, body still on the counter. nat pants softly in your ear to catch her breath, gripping your hair to keep your face there.

“look at you, right now. look at what a dyke can do to you. tough talk from a girl who seems to love it.” natalie murmurs, laughing. 

you can’t even bring yourself to be mad, whining instead at her mocking words, your panties soaked worse than they’ve ever been before. all from her. you whisper shakily, full of need, “nat. please. touch me…”

natalie laughs, again, shaking her head, “now she’s begging. how pathetic do you cheerleaders get, huh? your boy toys don’t do this?”

you shake your head no fervently, just trying to get her in your pants - obviously. “n-no, no-”

“shut up. god, do you seriously ever shut up?” natalie says harshly, cutting you off. she pushes your face closer to the mirror, “if you stop fucking talking, maybe i’ll fuck you.”

you quiet immediately, which makes nat laugh, muttering something about “pathetic whore”. next thing you know, her hand is on your center, running along the slit and feeling the dampness burdening the lacy fabric.

“hoooly shit, you’re soaked,” nat whispers, breathless with awe.

you flush with embarrassment, already knowing how desperate you are and look. but all the same, you move your hips on her fingers, whining needily. in response, she takes her hand away, swatting your inner thigh. “stop fuckin’ moving, or i’ll stop touching you.”

your hips still, a huff leaving your mouth. “you’re taking forever. do you really still have to be so goddamn annoying?”

natalie scoffs, and immediately sinks two fingers into you, shoving your panties to the side. you gasp and moan, eyes fluttering and jaw dropping in pleasure. nat smirks, “looks like that shut you up pretty damn good.”

the pace she has is brutal, fingers moving quick and hard - right into your g spot with every motion in. your eyes blur with tears of pure pleasure, mirror fogged up from each panted breath. your moans echo throughout the room, loud and full of obvious pleasure. nat relishes in this, how she can finally have you the way she’s always wanted to. she pulls your head back, kissing and sucking hickies onto your neck that will definitely be there tomorrow.

“nat, nat- slow down, m’gonna c-”

“no you’re not. you don’t get to. y’know how much i fucking hate you?” natalie sneers, as she adds a third finger, relentlessly pounding your cunt, “you piss me off so much. worse than anyone ever has.”

through moans and gasps, you manage a laugh, “is that why you’re fucking me?”

natalie laughs too, shaking her head, “you never shut up, huh?”

you shake your head no, moaning as she angles her fingers deeper, making your eyes roll back. that familiar band in your lower abdomen is taut, about to snap. your juices make obscene noises, echoing on the tiled floors and walls of the bathroom. you can’t take it anymore. “nat, please let me cum. please-”

“admit that you’re just as much of a dyke as i am, then.” natalie pants in your ear, a mocking smile on her lips.

you hesitate, of course you do. you can’t like girls, you can’t. but… this feels right, oddly enough. being fucked in a party bathroom, by the girl you’re supposed to hate. the guilt will come later, you know that. but right now? nat’s knuckle deep in your cunt, and you can’t think of anything better.

“i-i like girls,” you whisper, biting your lip to not moan.

“hm? what was that?” natalie taunts, speeding up her fingers - which you didn’t even think was possible.

you moan, losing all hesitance as soon as it started. “i-i like girls. i like you, i-” 

natalie hums, adding a fourth finger, and her thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles. “good that you stopped lying to yourself. you can cum.”

moaned and breathless “thank you”s leave your mouth as quickly as she says it. you cry out as your orgasm wracks through your body, making you tremble, and eyes roll back so hard you’d think they’re stuck. natalie marvels at this sight, slowing down to work you through it as you soak her front with the force of your release. 

nat finally takes her fingers out once your loud moans are now whimpers, washing her hands in the sink. you pant heavily, slumped over on the counter, body so weak and tired from the sheer force of the sex you just had. natalie looks over, raising an eyebrow, “you good?”

you nod, standing up on shaky legs, holding onto the counter for respite, “yeah… yeah. i’m great.”

natalie hums, gently brushing the hair out of your face. she looks at you, really looks at you, a small smile quirking at her lips. “you’re so pretty.”

you smile softly back, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks despite your already flushed state. “thanks.. uh, you are too.”

nat laughs, kissing your lips chastely once more. she helps you clean yourself up, and put your clothes back on. “need a ride home?”

“mhm,” you nod, leaning on her shoulder for stability. your legs tremble still, which she silently revels in.

“alright. let’s get your pretty ass out of here.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

– 

ending a/n: haiiiii :3 um so this is my first fic ever (like i said before, clem stfu)!! pls lmk how you feel about it! is it trash? is it gas? IDKKKK AAAAHHHHHH tysm for reading and ily xoxox

[wandanatswitch]

14 from hydrangea and the “you should wear the red one tonight” where em’s painfully jealous that r is going but wants her to be happy, and r literally is only going bc em is avoiding making a move bc its “unprofessional”

I love it when they're down bad idiots >_< part of the 800 celebration!

Tags: jealous emily, idiots in love, reader gets all up in emily's face lol, uc emily

Word count: 0.7k

She just had to be here for this, didn’t she? Hip against the doorframe like she owns your damn house, arms crossed against her bruised heart as she watches you style your hair and muse over the multiple outfits you’d laid on your bed, indecision creasing your brow in a frown. Even half-ready, still dressed in your home clothes, you twist her stomach into nauseous knots. Emily digs her nails deep into her arm, trying to look away from the purse of your lips.

“You should wear the red one tonight.” She says when your silence lingers too long.

Your eyes flick up to hers, narrowing the slightest bit. 

What the fuck is she doing again? 

Emily clears her throat, “You look good in red.”

“You think?” You say, not bothering to hide the flatness of your tone. It pokes at her skin, razor sharp, drawing blood the same color of the fabric spread out over your sheets.

She hates this. She hates the glare in your eyes, the bitter poison on your tongue. Emily’s not fooling anyone. You both know what you’re doing; this endless game of cat and mouse, pushing and pulling—it’s gotten predictable. 

You’re her best friend. Her subordinate. Fire and gasoline, continually reignited and doused with water. 

She can’t control the flame now.

“Pretty enough for a guy from corporate,” you drawl, your voice dark with scorn. “But not for an ambassador’s daughter, right?”

Her heart jumps to her throat.

“It’s not that.”

“Not that, huh?” You scoff. “You can’t even give me a better excuse?” 

Emily’s neck heats, her shoulders pressing flat against the doorframe as you lessen the useless space she’d put between you. She holds her breath as you crowd against her, palpable anger and your familiar perfume heavy in her bloodstream. “What is it then, Emily? It can’t be work, can it?” Your volume drops. Her ears strain for your whisper. “I’ve seen you cozying up with Laura from the B team. Work didn’t seem too important then.”

Laura wasn’t anything. She was just stressed, overworked, tired of seeing nothing but a hopeless dead end when her eyes met yours. It was just a few hours, hardly a night; she left before the sun came up. What she did with her she couldn’t do with you.

“You’re a coward.”

Emily flinches. It doesn’t matter that you say it softly, the words caressing her skin. They lodge into her chest like a bullet.

“Be braver than me.” She wets her lips, already unraveling between your body and the wall. It never takes much with you. “Please.”

“So you can shut me down again?”

“I won’t. I won’t.” She breathes, her hand finding the nape of your neck. Your skin is fever-hot. “I can’t do this anymore. Seeing you like this, getting ready for someone else—” her head jerks, “it’s killing me.”

You’re unfazed as you press your hand to the wall behind her head. “And when you’re not seeing me like this?” You murmur. “What then? You’ll come back to your senses? Be the sensible Unit Chief who won’t stoop down low enough to fuck her subordinate?”

The words ring in her ears.

“Don’t, stop. You’re more than that.” There’s not enough air. Too much you. “You’re not just some fling I can forget about. People will talk.”

“You’ve never cared.”

“I do when it comes to you.” She slides her hand up, cups your cheek. “Baby, I’m just—”

“If you say you’re just trying to protect me, I swear to god, I’ll dropkick your ass.”

Emily’s smile is faint. Her hand finds the curve of your waist, her palm molding to its shape. “I love you.” She says softly.

You go still.

“I love you, and you’re right, I’m a coward. But”—she runs her tongue over her lip—“I’m trying to be brave. So I’ll kiss you. Okay?”

Your mouth opens, moves, but no sound comes out. Emily can feel the fast pace of your heart under her thumb, drumming through your warm skin. Her own heart picks up as your hand slides down to her shoulder, then up to the line of her jaw, your pupils blown. You clear your throat.

“Okay.” 

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @piiinco@jareavsheavn @mourningthewicked @heartoreadallthequeerthingz

[wandanatswitch]

atta girl | emily prentiss x reader

summary: you and emily try a new way to use your strap-on.

tags: smut (18+, mdni!), fem!non-bau!reader, top!emily, established relationship, mommy kink (sorry, not sorry), nipple play, vaginal fingering, strap-on use, no use of y/n, second person

word count: 1.3k

a/n: regular text size and capitalization under the cut. the premise of this was inspired by a tik tok i saw by @/siliconeslinger and the title is a twist on atta boy by red velvet :)

cross-posted on ao3

Sex with Emily was always amazing. The first time the two of you slept together, something had just clicked. Even though there was still much to learn about each other, that was part of the fun. Every day, you discovered something new about the other person. And every day, your affection grew.

Emily had been away on a case for nearly a week, leaving you with way too much free time on your hands. On this particular night, you had been scrolling on your phone when you came across a video explaining an alternate way to use a strap-on.

Your thighs clenched at the thought of trying this with Emily, and you filed away the idea for her return.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A few days later, the team had finally wrapped up their case. It was getting late, but you couldn’t fall asleep knowing that Emily would be getting home soon.

So, instead of going to sleep—as you probably should have—you prepared for your girlfriend’s return.

First, you took a nice, steamy shower with your favourite body wash and scrub. Then, you put on your best nightwear and lit a candle before settling into bed with a book while you waited (im)patiently for Emily’s arrival.

Finally, you heard the front door open and some rustling in the entrance of the apartment. Soon enough, Emily appeared in the doorway. She looked exhausted, but the second her eyes landed on you, they were lit with a spark reserved only for you.

“Sweetheart,” she started as she made her way over to the bedside, “you didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“I know,” you replied, “but I wanted to.”

Emily took your face into her hand, stroking the skin of your cheek softly.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?”

At that, you giggled slightly, but you were soon silenced by her lips on yours. The kiss was gentle at first, but you deepened it quickly, perhaps due to all your pent-up energy. The book you’d been reading was soon discarded, and your hands made their way into your girlfriend’s silver locks. You hummed at the feeling of her tongue on yours, happy to know that she was just as hungry for you as you were for her.

Soon, however, Emily pulled away—albeit hesitantly.

“Honey, we should both get some sleep,” she said softly, “don’t you think?”

You shook your head, a pout forming on your lips and your eyes pleading.

“Oh? Does my girl have something else on her mind?”

You nodded in response.

“Words, honey.”

“Y-yes.”

A pause. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“There she is.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

In a flurry of mouths on necks and shoulders, and hands just about everywhere else, you soon found yourselves naked under the soft covers of the bed.

With her lips latched snuggly around your nipple, Emily’s hand wandered down until her fingers reached your warmth. She moaned around your nipple, surprised at just how wet you were, which in turn sent a jolt through your body.

With urgency—but still tenderness—she gathered your wetness before inserting a finger into your entrance. You gasped at the feeling of her already beginning to thrust the digit in and out, curling it upwards as well. Already, you were beginning to shake.

She released her mouth from your nipple. “Oh, baby,” she cooed, “missed me, huh?”

You nodded, entranced by her low, but dulcet tone. Her slight teasing seemed to do something to you, as you clenched around her finger—which didn’t go unnoticed.

Just when you thought you might get to cum, she pulled out, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing. You whined at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together as you looked at her.

Her lips curled up. “We’re just getting started here.”

And maybe it was a blessing in disguise, because as she got up to get the strap, you remembered your little idea.

Soon, she joined you back on the bed, kneeling beside you as she adjusted the harness.

“Em?”

She paused her adjustments, looking up at you.

“Do you think you could put the ring a bit lower? Apparently, it, uh, makes it feel better.”

“Yeah?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, “Sure, why not?”

Once she had repositioned the ring and inserted the dildo, she got some lube from the bedside table.

“Hand.” She instructed.

When you stretched your hand out, she poured the lube into your palm, and you immediately knew what to do. Emily inched closer, and you wrapped your hand around the strap, spreading the lube along its length. This, all while maintaining eye contact with her.

Once satisfied, you laid down on your back, and she followed you down. Carefully, she swiped the strap through your folds a few times before putting it into the hilt in one fell swoop.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed immediately at the feeling.

Already, you could feel the difference in depth due to that small change in angle. In contrast to the intensity you were feeling, Emily stroked your forehead softly, waiting for the go-ahead to start thrusting.

“I’m ready,” you rasped out.

Without delay, Emily pulled back out before pushing in even harder this time. She set a brutal pace, with each stroke hitting you so deeply you were nearly seeing stars. Feeling the need to be closer, you wrapped your legs around her waist, bringing her down further. She was now close enough to capture your lips in a somewhat messy kiss, but the way her lips moved freely against yours just added fuel to fire.

You moaned into her mouth, feeling yourself getting close already. But then, she pulled back, slowing her thrusts slightly.

“On your hands and knees for me, sweetheart,” she ordered.

And you followed her orders quickly, getting into position and arching your back just how she liked it. You looked back to see Emily eyeing you like you had hung the moon and stars.

“Look so pretty like this for me, baby,” she said softly, “you ready for me?”

“Always ready for you, mommy.”

With that, she pushed back into you with no hesitation, resuming the pace she had set previously. This time, however, the position you were in led to the strap hitting your sweet spot better than ever.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined as she kept up the pace, “feels so good.”

“That’s it, baby,” Emily said in a surprisingly steady voice, “can I go faster?”

“Yes! Please!”

And before you knew it, you were actually seeing stars because of how well she was fucking you. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer, and deftly brought your hand to your pussy, a finger immediately circling your clit.

“Atta girl,” Emily encouraged you, “gonna cum for me?”

You couldn’t get any words out at that point, opting to moan out instead. She got the message though, and kept thrusting at the same angle and pace.

With one final stroke, you were falling apart. You shut your eyes as you reached your peak, an explosion of colours dancing behind your eyelids. Emily fucked you through it, words of praise adding to your pleasure.

When you finally came down from your high, you collapsed onto the bed. Emily pulled out gently, all while holding your waist, a thumb stroking your side to ground you.

She disappeared from the room for a moment, coming back with a warm washcloth and cleaning the excess lube from your centre. This simultaneously brought you back down to Earth.

When she was done cleaning you up and had discarded the cloth, Emily came to lay next to you. Almost instinctively, you lay your head on her chest—her heartbeat comforting you.

“How’re you feeling?” Emily asked after a stretch of silence, hand now stroking your back.

“Mmm, good,” you all but moaned, “really good.”

She giggled softly, amused by your dazed demeanour.

Not long after, the two of you dozed off, bodies entangled and hearts warm.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[wandanatswitch]

born knowing you | e.p

Tags: shy!reader, established relationship (married cause who wouldn’t wanna marry her), temporary amnesia, hospitals, reader has an appendectomy but no details are mentioned, absolute boatload of fluff, disgusting amount of petnames used, no use of yn

Summary: After your surgery, the effects of the anesthesia linger: you can’t remember your wife—or being married to her. Luckily for the both of you, she’s persistent.

Word count: 1.4k

The moment you peel your threaded lashes apart, fluorescent light assaults your eyes. Immediately they shutter closed. You take a few seconds to adjust to the blissful dark before opening them again, a small, displeased sound getting stuck in your throat. 

It catches the attention of a woman sitting on a chair next to your bed. She looks up from a book in her lap, a smile crossing her face as she closes it and slips it onto the table next to her. Your brain is fuzzy, but with the sharp scent of antiseptic and the uncomfortable scratch of the gown you’re wearing, it’s not hard to deduce that you’re in a hospital.

“Hi gorgeous,” she says softly. Reaching out, she takes your hand. “How are you feeling?”

You frown confusedly. Looking between her and your joint hands, your perplexion mounts; you know her, you must. Your skin doesn’t crawl at her touch. But you try to come up with a name, a memory, and your brain comes up with nothing.

The woman squeezes your hand and leans out of her chair, across the handle of your bed—she’s suddenly so close you could count the freckles on her cheeks. Her eyes spike your sluggish pulse into something frantic.

God, she’s so familiar. You know that stare. Your skin warms at its intensity, a low buzz in your bones that could no doubt be accredited to the deep, unfathomable brown of her iris. 

Nobody has eyes like that.

The woman’s brows pinch at your silence. A wrinkle forms between her manicured brows; she chews on her bottom lip, squeezes your hand again—nervous this time.

“Honey?”

“I…I know you,” you mumble uncertainly. It sounds like a question. 

The wrinkle clears. An exhale parts the woman’s heart-shaped lips, her relief wafting over your chin.

“You do. I’m Em, baby. Emily. Don’t you remember?” She asks gently, cradling your cheek with her free hand. You think you could’ve answered if not for the devastating tilt of her spidery lashes. “The anesthesia did a number on you, huh? The doctor said it might happen.” Her thumb traces the length of your jaw.

She’s so close. You swallow and discover that your throat is dry. Emily, she said. Strange how it warms you up on the inside. Flitting your eyes away, you relieve yourself of her crushing gaze.

“Can I have water?” You rasp.

Emily procures a bottle. Cold creeps into your skin as she adjusts your bed, helping you sit up, and uncaps the water. Your arms are leaden by your sides. Heat surges in your cheeks as you let her help you drink, a distinct weight on your face you think might be from her eyes. You can hardly feel the cool spill of the water down your throat.

Clumsily, you push the bottle away when you’re done. Water spills down your chin; it travels down the column of your neck, soaks your hospital gown. Embarrassment flares hot, especially when Emily’s hand is there on your chin, drying the water with her fingers. You stare at her, this time unable to look away even when her eyes meet yours.

She smiles, dimples popping in her cheeks. “Everything alright in there? They didn’t mess you up too bad, did they?” Her voice is lightly teasing. It’s lovely, silky smooth and drenched with the warmth of adoration. That can’t all be for you, can it? “I should’ve flashed my badge, let them know it was precious cargo they’d be dealing with.” She muses, brows pinched as if she were serious.

God, who is this woman?

You swallow your thrumming heart. “What happened?”

“You had an appendectomy.” Emily says. “Laparoscopic. It took about an hour—we should be out of here once they check your vitals.” 

Out of here, to where? She won’t be taking you to her home, will she? You saw a wedding ring on her finger when she tucked her hair—wavy, dark as an oil spill—behind her ear. The glint of metal makes your stomach tighten strangely.

“Hey, you never answered,” Emily’s leaning against the handle of your bed, “how are you feeling?” A smooth, smoky scent floods your lungs.

“Alright.” Breathless. Her ring is dazzling in the dull light. “Itchy. But nothing hurts. You’re married.” You say, vaguely aware of the way your voice slurs.

Emily smiles softly. 

“We are.”

What?

You shake your head haltingly. “I’m not—I’m not married.”

“You are, sweetheart.” Again, she cups your face. “To me. What, am I that easily forgettable?” She whispers. The smile doesn’t play on her lips now; it shimmers in her eyes. “You’re breaking my heart, love.” Her voice is so achingly tender, soft as the cushioned heel of her palm.

Your heart is going to beat out of your chest. 

Breathless, you wet your lips with a quick dart of your tongue. “You…you wanted to marry me?”

Emily looks almost offended.

“Of course I did.”

You still can’t fathom it. “Why?” You mumble. “Why me?”

“Who else if not you?” She thumbs along your jaw.

You’re dizzy. And almost entirely sure she can feel your frantic pulse under the lazy drag of her finger. At your disbelief, Emily hums.

“Here,” her hand is reaching for your left, “see? I put that there, two October’s ago.” She kisses your wedding band—how hadn’t you felt it?—her lips velvet smooth against your skin. “You were so stunning I nearly forgot my vows.” The warm vibrations of her voice sink into your hand, reverberate through your bones.

It’s a good thing you’re in a hospital; you think she might be doing you irreparable damage. Lungs tight, you try to think past the effortless way she threads her fingers through yours.

“Do you always flirt like that?”

Emily’s smile melts your brain. “When you let me.”  She shifts a little closer—impossibly—and her eyes sweep downward, a lick of heat burning your lips. Then they’re back up to meet yours, wide open and a little desperate. “Can I kiss you, baby? God, you wouldn’t believe how much I missed you in there.”

Your heart palpitates.

“We’ve done it before?” You manage, more than a little choked at the thought.

“A million times.” Emily promises.

It’s your turn to look at her mouth. Soft pink, heart shaped, and entirely too inviting. When she does something with a flash of her teeth, you’re a goner.

“Okay.”

She lights up. “Yeah? Sure?”

“Please.”

The breath you exhale when she cups your cheek is downright embarrassing. But it almost doesn’t matter; this close, you can see that her pupils are wide, blown out. The lack of iris doesn’t make her gaze any less intense. If you hadn’t been sitting, legs firmly on the mattress, you’d have slid to the floor with weakened knees.

Emily’s lips are exactly as soft as they look. She tastes like coffee, sweetened by something you inexplicably identify as Splenda, and when her fingers sift through your hair something tugs in your chest. It’s instantly proven—no, this isn’t your first kiss. Maybe it has been a million times, or maybe somewhat less, but it’s not the first. Though it’s chaste and quick, your mouth knows what to do. Even when Emily leans back, eyes glittering, your mouth takes over without your permission.

“Love you,” you blurt.

Emily grins so wide you’re breathless. “I love you too. What, did I kiss some memories into that pretty brain of yours?” She thumbs at the edge of your tingling lip.

“You could try to. If you wanna.” What are you even saying anymore? She’s robbed you of thought, of breath. You’re happy to be completely at her mercy.

“Honey, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.” Emily says solemnly. She kisses the corner of your mouth, the mellow lilt of her voice dissolving right in your tongue. “In fact, it’s my duty as your wife, I’m pretty sure.”

“My wife,” you say dumbly.

“Oh, you like that.” Her grin is incandescent. “God, I’d marry you all over again if I could.”

“I’d just like to remember the first time,” you say quietly.

“You will.” Another kiss, to the other corner of your mouth. Feather light and quicker than you’d like. Your mouth curves into a sulk—a pout.

“Soon?”

“Before you even know it.” Emily—your wife (the reality is starting to set in)—promises. And her promise holds up; it’s when she’s taken you home, and you’re in a baggy pair of sweatpants, flushing and fidgeting as it comes back to you. Believe me now? she teases into your ear, her laugh soft when you reach out to swat at her.

You can’t believe you ever doubted.

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[wandanatswitch]

How do you think car sex would go with each of the characters?

nsfw | mdni | i only chose a select few characters that would actually do it

aaron - car sex with aaron is so much fun because he doesn’t usually lose control where he needs to pull over and just fuck you in the back seat. so when it does happen, it’s mind blowing. he’s rough with it but simply for times sake. and you guys definitely fuck in the black SUVs after a rough case because you both need to let out steam. ( @aureatelys pls write more car sex with aaron thank u)

luke - so as i’ve stated, this man loves sex with you anywhere imaginable. so my favorite thought? the two of you just finished a nice dinner at a nice restaurant but you had been teasing luke all night long. and so, when you’re in the car, you have your hand on luke’s thigh as he’s driving. and the moment your hand grazes his cock, he’s pulling over, parking the car and moving his seat back so that you can give him head on the side of the road.

spencer - spencer has a pretty old car canonically so my favorite thought is that it breaks down while you guys are in the middle of nowhere. and after calling triple A, you’re both just waiting to see what to do. and so you distract him by pulling him into the back seat and riding spencer into oblivion as you guys wait patiently. @beenreidingaboutyou i think you want to write something like this 😏😏 so now you’re legally obligated to

emily - emily would be the type to be driving with one hand like the lesbian she is and her other hand would be in your pants, fingering your cunt or rubbing your clit while she’s paying attention to the road. you’re just moaning next to her while she’s fingering you so good simply because she just wanted to play with your pussy.

[wandanatswitch]

pls the first one from marigold 🙏🙏

maybe emily and reader are at an FBI gala or fufilling some ambassador's daughter duties to keep her mother happy and emily shows up in a full suit

No idea why my brain decided to take a bit of an angsty turn with this one but I'm not complaining hahaha. This is the prompt 'fixing their tie', thank you for participating! Join my celebration here! (last day to send in requests 🫶🏼)

Tags: established relationship, emily's mommy issues

Word count: 0.7k

Emily looks up when you walk into the ambassador’s library. She’s lounging on a high-backed Chesterfield, reading, her legs crossed and heels carelessly tossed on the plush rug beneath her feet. The knot of her tie hangs halfway down her chest, pulled away from her throat like it’d been choking her.

When she sees you, she sets her book down and holds her hand out.

“Hey, you made it.”

Only after three wrong turns.

“You left me,” you say flatly. “In the lion’s den, all on my own.” Ignoring her hand, you perch on the arm of her chair. “With your mother.” You grumble.

“She likes you, babe.” Emily flashes you a smile. It’s all teeth and no satisfaction. “Far more than she likes me, I’m sure. You would’ve been fine.”

Her tone is languorously blithe, but it doesn’t fool you. A few years ago, Emily’s bravado would’ve been impossible to see through. But now you know the signs. You know her. You can spot the tension in her shoulders, the stiff corners of her lips. There’s a subtle strain in her neck, and though she’s got a handful of mini tarts on the opposite armrest, halfway wrapped in a napkin, they’re untouched.

Your annoyance flickers and dies.

“She said something, didn’t she?”

“Doesn’t she always?”

Heat flares in your gut. You try to keep your voice even, but it shakes when you speak. 

“What did she say?”

Emily takes your hand, idly plays with it. This time you let her. “It’s nothing.” She weaves her fingers through yours.

“Emily.”

Her eyes turn up, bitterly dark. You hold her gaze for a few thick beats, a silent war waging between the span of three breaths before she surrenders. “Oh, she wasn’t too appreciative of my outfit.” She says breezily. 

You straighten off of the arm of the chair, lips tightly pressed. “Let’s go home.” You say, sick of this place and its ever present poison.

“It’s too early.”

You cross your arms. “She saw you, isn’t that enough?”

Emily stands, her expression morphing into something placid. “It’s okay, honey. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Besides,” she rests her hand on your waist, tilts her head and tries at an easy smile, “you like my outfit, don’t you?”

Like is a small way of putting it. Nearly every minute since she came out of the bathroom fully dressed, your eyes have been glued to her. The crisp black of her suit did wonders for her skin, swallowing up the wave of her hair and contrasting with her pale hands. You’ve seen Emily in suits countless times, but this is different. Her shirt is spun from silk, her slacks rise above her Louboutins, and she’s certainly never worn a tie before. You were very nearly late, too preoccupied with fisting her tie and angling her lips to yours to care much about what the ambassador thought of your tardiness.

“You know I do.” You murmur, absently smoothing her shirt over the plane of her stomach.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Emily gives your waist a squeeze. You have no idea when the role of being comforted was turned to you. “Mother’s opinions are nothing new.”

But they still cut every time. New slashes over just-healed ones, the endless wound beginning to scar.

Your lips are pursed when Emily kisses you—a quick thing, already sealing a bandaid over the cut and pretending it won’t bleed under the plaster. “Come on. The faster we get out there, the faster we can leave.”

You silently agree. The only thing that makes this bearable is the thought of going home soon and spending time with your wife—and trying at undoing any damage that’s already been done. Swallowing back something bitter, you reach for her tie. Her other hand lays flat over the line of your waist as you pull the tail and guide the Windsor knot back up to her collar. 

“You didn’t eat your tarts.” You murmur.

Her smile is small. “Got ’em for you.”

A smile of your own spreads across your face. You tighten the fabric on either side of the knot, making sure it’s snug but not too tight against her throat. Needlessly, you straighten out her collar and brush invisible lint from her shoulders. No need for her mother to comment on anything else.

“Good?” You ask.

Emily lifts your hand up to her mouth. “Perfect.” She kisses your ring.

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[wandanatswitch]

Hydrangea Number 29 “you should be out doing the things everyone else your age is, but instead you’re here. with me.” Unit Chief Emily. Age Gap. non established relationship but reader has a crush on Emily.

The uc Emily brainrot is real. Make it stop. (I don’t want it to stop). Anyway lol thank you for requesting! Join my celebration here <3

Tags: bau!reader, age gap (no mentioned age difference), power dynamics, too much tension for 800 words

Word count: 0.8k

“That’s everything for last week’s case,” you say, balancing a collection of files on the edge of Emily’s desk. The wood underneath is hardly visible from the sheer amount of case files on its surface. You’ve organized them—first by completeness and then by priority—but they spill and lean on each other, wilting out of their stacks.

“We just need the coroner’s supplemental for the last victim to close Tuesday’s case.” You continue, fixing a leaning stack.

“I’ve been asking for it. The morgue hasn’t called?” Emily asks, fidgeting with her pen. You’re entranced by her slim fingers wrapped around its length, the bones shifting smoothly under her skin as she plays with it. 

You look away, clearing your throat. “I can call them for you.”

“No, you’ve done enough. It’s late anyway…” she trails off as she looks down at her watch, her brows raising. “8:20. I didn’t know it was this late.” She reaches up with her hand, presses her fingertips to the skin between her brows and rubs languid circles, as if smoothing away a throb. Light pools on the dark spill of her hair.

“I’m sorry for keeping you. You can go now, thank you.” She says primly, as if you hadn’t volunteered to help. As if you haven’t been doing so for the past month.

“No worries.” You wave it away, eyes hungrily tracing the slope of her neck while you can, her gaze still angled away. “I think you’re mostly done for this week—except for the budget justifications Cruz has been asking for.”

Emily looks up, done with her rubbing. She goes a little still, looking over you with newfound intensity. “You know, you should be out doing the things everyone else your age is, but instead you’re here. With me.” Her tone is almost casual—she certainly throws the words around slowly enough, rolling them around on her tongue as if she’s trying to get a taste for them. Her face doesn’t betray her either; she’s just listing an innocent observation, as mundane as the weather, but the knowing gleam in her eyes makes your heart squeeze off a few quick beats. “And I know it’s not because the paperwork makes for nice company.”

Your neck goes hot. Under her sharp eyes, you fight against the urge to scratch at it, your nails instead finding the inside of your wrist. “You age yourself up an awful lot.” You say, hoping she can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “The things everyone my age is doing aren’t all that different from the things everyone your age is doing.”

Emily’s brow arches. “You’re sweet.” She says lazily. “But partying all night and…bending and twisting myself into impossible positions—is that what the kids are doing these days?” Suddenly there’s a grin, each one of her teeth gleaming. “That’s not exactly doable. You do know I’m in my forties, don’t you?”

Tension pulls taut, a vibrating wire between you and her. The air thickens in your lungs, crowding your airway with each blink of her dark eyes.

You swallow. “I do.”

“And you’re…”

“Not unreasonably younger.” You say defensively.

Her lips tilt up. “Don’t worry. I don’t see you like I do Reid.”

But she still doesn’t see you as an equal. It’s obvious even now—too much softness in her eyes, too much amusement, bright dancing light gleaming at you through the flutter of her lashes. As if you’re a stumbling puppy she enjoys watching over. 

Your hands are slick, heart fluttering in its cage.

“How do you see me?” You ask, a desperate rasp in your voice.

Emily’s smile flickers. She leans back in her chair, bathing herself in the warm light flowing from her desk lamp. “I don’t think you want to open up that can of worms, love. Go home,” she juts her chin to the door, “I’ve got this.”

Love.

Your head spins.

You almost don’t see it when Emily stands, her hand suddenly on your arm. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate this. I do, really. But I’m a big girl,” her smile is small, just distracting enough that you almost don’t notice her nudging you to the door, “and you shouldn’t waste away in this place. Loosen up a little. Go have fun on the weekends. It would be a shame for you to stay trapped here with me.”

Your mouth drops open, indignation on your tongue. 

“Nope,” Emily hums softly, before you can speak. “None of that. Go home and relax. Think of something other than work. Consider it an order, yeah?” She murmurs, her hand on the small of your back slowly pushing you past the threshold of your office.

You tense when you realize, a little belatedly. A fog has settled in your head, clouding what little semblance of judgment you still have intact.

“You’ve never disobeyed me an order.” Emily muses, voice like warm honey. “You’re not going to start now, are you?”

No, you’re not. But maybe, you think as she inches the door closed, you should.

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[wandanatswitch]

END OF TIME.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(dark!wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

warning(s) — oneshot: smut, mommy kink, spanking, forced orgasm, cunnilingus, strap on sex, dubious content, it’s implied that wanda kidnapped reader but it could just be an abusive relationship. (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The world you lived in was nothing more than a sick, twisted game—an endless cycle of pain and loneliness. No parents to guide you, no friends to lean on, no lovers to heal the gaping void in your chest. You were utterly alone, a pawn in a cruel universe that seemed to relish your suffering.

Until you met her.

Wanda.

She was a glimmer of light in your shadowed world, the kind of woman you’d never dared to believe could exist. Wanda was everything—an angel amidst the darkness, a storm of warmth and strength. She saw you when no one else did, pulled you from the depths when you’d nearly drowned. She cared for you with such a tenderness that was foreign, almost unreal, teaching you lessons that reshaped the jagged edges of your soul. She reminded you what it meant to feel human. Her laugh could soften even the sharpest corners of your broken heart, and her touch… god her touch was like that of a soothing balm, a cure for wounds you thought would never heal.

And she loved you.

Genuinely, fiercely, as though you were worthy of it. For the first time in your life, you believed in something greater than the endless cruelty of the world.

She made you feel alive.

She made you feel whole.

But perfection often comes with a price.

And in a world this twisted, nothing good ever lasts forever.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The clock above the kitchen door never stopped ticking. Even as the sun set and the moon rose, even as the light faded into dark, even as the warm air blistered cold.

It never stopped.

Perched on the sofa, you stared at the offending piece of metal, its steady ticking filling the silence like a relentless reminder of time slipping away. Each second felt heavier than the last, your gaze locked on its rhythmic movement until, finally, another sound broke through. The front door creaked open and shut with a familiar thud.

In walked Wanda. Her hair, now a dark shade of walnut, framed her face as she bustled into the room with an energy that seemed almost misplaced. She wore a beaming smile, the kind that used to light up your world—once.

She quickly moved over to you, intending to place a kiss upon your head, but she froze mid-step, her attention stolen by the sight of the room. The space gleamed under the soft light, every surface shining with a meticulousness that could only come from hours of dedicated effort. You had spent the entire day cleaning until not a speck of dust remained, transforming the already tidy space into something worthy of a magazine cover. Not that it had ever been messy—Wanda would sooner face the end of the world than tolerate clutter in her home.

In the six months you had been locked away here, you had never seen it untidy.

Still, you had somehow managed to elevate it, making even her discerning eye take notice. The scent of her signature lavender lingered faintly in the air, a testament to the freshly wiped counters and perfectly polished furniture. Wanda’s lips curved into a soft smile as she turned her gaze back to you, a glimmer of gratitude and warmth dancing in her eyes.

"You’ve outdone yourself.” She murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "I didn’t think it was possible for this place to look even better." She moved closer, leaning down at last to press a tender kiss to your forehead, her touch lingering as she whispered, "thank you, baby."

You only answered with a quiet hum and a small smile of your own.

That smile returned to her face once more, slow and sharp, like the curve of a blade. You saw the devious plans ignite in her eyes, glinting with a wicked satisfaction that made your stomach churn. Everything was a game to her—a cruel, mind-bending game with rules only she knew, rules she could rewrite at will. Every move you made, every word you uttered, was just another piece she could twist to fit her narrative.

All you’d done was clean the house. A half-hearted, mediocre effort at best, born more from a desire to fill the empty hours than any real care for the place. It wasn’t much—a swipe of the rag here, a broom lazily dragged there. But somehow, she’d seized on it, weaving it into one of her elaborate fantasies. To her, this simple act was proof. Proof that you were finally breaking, that you were starting to accept your fate, that the fight had drained out of you and you were settling into this twisted new reality.

You wanted to scream at her, to shatter that smug certainty etched into her face.

But you knew better.

Here, in this place, every outburst was just more ammunition for her games. Instead, you clenched your fingers together and swallowed the lump rising in your throat, forcing yourself to meet her gaze without flinching. Because deep down, you knew the truth: she thrived on subduing your rebellion as much as your compliance. Whether you resisted or surrendered, you were still playing her game.

And the thought of that terrified you more than anything else.

The dread ate away at your chest.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You were on all fours: sweaty, panting, naked—of course— as your legs trembled to hold your weight up. Your arms had given up along time ago. Her hips snapped into the flesh of your ass, as her strap drove deep into your pussy. Wanda liked to hurt you. Liked to spank your ass red as she fucked you dumb. Your ass twitched with the anticipation of the first slap. And as Wanda’s hand connected over and over again, you became more and more tense, attempting to lessen the impact of the slaps.

Let it be known, the humiliation was the point; it always is with her. And worse than that, you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve came. All of them forced. All of them just as good as the last. She was relentless, and yet, she called it a reward— “for being such a good girl for Mommy while she was at work.”

You chose to ignore the pulse in your clit as she called herself Mommy.

Wanda’s increased moans as well as her rough pace told you she was close to finishing. You’d just hope this time she’d be done for real. There was only so much you could take before tears began to fall. However, her hips faltered before coming to a complete stop. Her pants filled the air before she pulled out of you, liquids soaking the bed below as she discarded the strap.

“Come here, baby." She grabbed, and you rolled to lay flat on your back.

Oh.

Her strong thighs crawled to wrap around your head as she threaded fingers through your curls. “I want to see how useful that little pink tongue of yours is, hm?”

Wanda had always tasted good. No matter how sadistic and cruel she could be, you could never not enjoy eating her out. The sounds she’d make, the way her hips roll into you; the tension increasing as she holding herself back from fucking your face, the gentle fingers scraping against your scalp.

She looked as ethereal as she tasted.

“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re so good for me. So good for Mommy.” She rushed out, unable to contain the little whines clawing from her throat. Her hips picked up the pace, and you held out your tongue out for her to ride, pink flesh solid against her sensitivity, and she rocked against your face until she spilled all over your lips.

Immediately she fell off you, and drew you into her arms.

She’d always needed to hold you after sex.

Such a different affection than as to how she was treating you before.

“You know I love you right?” She whispered, and that same dread from earlier would crawl right back in, the heavy weight settled on your chest.

You knew she didn’t care if you believed her or not.

She just wanted you to say it back.

You turned further into her embrace, face nuzzled into her breasts, as your legs tangled with hers.

“I love you too Mommy.”

[wandanatswitch]

have you watched Agatha All Along?

I have! I actually forgot to add Agatha and Rio to the characters list, so if anyone wants something written about them you are free to ask 🖤

[wandanatswitch]

Hour of the Owl

Pairing: Dowager!Queen Alicent Hightower x Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst w/ happy ending

Summary: “Love can become both a sanctuary and a peril”

Warnings: NSFW +18 minors DNI, age gap (reader is aprox 18, Alicent is aprox 37), step-cest?, mentions of targcest, fingering? (reader receiving) oral (reader receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of infidelity (not between the main characters), religious shame and guilt, mention of suicidal thoughts, emotional dependency/obsession, mentions of homophobia, kinda? Toxic relationship, manipulation, I kinda wrote the reader from a BPD perspective so she could have some traits. Let me know if there's anything missing! NO DANCE OF DRAGONS AU! Note: English is not my first language! And this is my first time writing a fic so please let me know what you think <3 Also there is very few use of Y/N! 

Words: 2.9K

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺

“May I join you, Princess?” 

The oh so familiar voice echoes through the empty gardens of the red keep perturbs your quiet late night stroll.

“Of course, Your Grace…” You reply while looking at the bushes filled with different coloured roses. “Is something the matter?”

 You wished to deny her, you really did… but as always, you failed to do so, you just could not bring yourself to say no to her, nor to reject her presence, the one that made you feel that stupid agonising passion that made you wish it was possible that two people were one. You wanted to be binded to her. You wanted to lay down under the same tree where you kiss her so desperately, and merge with her so you could never be separated from one another ever again.

She approaches ever so carefully, moving her hand slightly forward, making your hands faintly touch… An innocent mistake is what she would answer if you reproach her.

“Not at all” She gently caresses the edge of the rose petals in front of you. “I simply wished to know if you have received any letter from my son” A lie. “I know i have not received one since he left” Another lie. You knew for a fact that Aemond had written to the Dowager Queen, he told you himself in the only letter he had written to you, and you had heard Princess Helaena trying and failing to tell Aegon about what their brother had written to their mother… “Mother said he was vague , but that he was well… he wrote that he is not bored as he expected to be and that he is actually having a good time…” is what you heard Helaena say, but you stopped listening when Aegon groaned at his sister-wife’s words.

“What is your need to lie to me, Your Grace?” You did not look up from the flowers, you did not dare. “You always lie, at this point i find myself believing that lying is the only thing you know how to do”

That gained you a sigh from her “You are right, I apologize…” she whispers “I just wanted to be alone with you—”

“Please, do not say anything else and just leave” you cut her off in a hostile tone but whispered voice “You said it yourself, we are sinful. This is a sin. We are wrong and the Gods will punish us if we do not stop whatever twisted and vile-” she cut you off when she placed her hand on your cheek, caressing it gently with her thumb.

“I know, my darling but—” she tries to plead, but her words get cut off again. You step back, causing her hand to drop back to her side. “You always do this!” you whisper loudly “You always do this! And it is not fair that you get to treat me like a stupid toy that you only wish to hurt!” Tears are rolling down your face at this point, much to your dislike.

“I am so stupidly tired of this, and I simply cannot bear this anymore…” You closed your eyes and tried to be strong and take a deep breath, but it came out shaky and broken. “...I have two children, Alicent… What am I supposed to tell them when they see me cry in front of them because I just can’t take it anymore? That their grandmother's favorite pastime is to hurt me…? 

“Princess, you are speaking foolishly—” The Dowager Queen tries to say calmly, but once again, she finds her words being cut off.

“Am I?!” You are shouting at this point. The anger, the frustration, the pain, the hurt, everything, finally finding a way out. “Yes you are!” The older woman shouted, matching your tone. “My goal has never been to hurt you! Your pain is the last thing I would ever wish for! Ever!” “You are a liar! You have proven yourself to be—”

“I do not lie to hurt you, I lie so I do not lose you!” She starts to lower her voice, although her tone is still full of frustration. “I love you, you know that very well” “No you do not, if anything you despise me” The Targaryen princess tries to say firmly, but her voice wavers from the tears she has spilled “You would have to despise someone to hurt them like you have hurt me” You look at Alicent right in the eyes “Maybe is not me who you wish to hurt. Maybe you wish to hurt my mother and I am nothing more than a discardable piece to accomplish it.” Your breath quickens, your heart hurts and you feel like dying… you feel as if nothing matters anymore, and at this very moment you just wish to die. 

“You just cannot stand the fact that my mother is Queen, can you? And you are not only taking your frustrations out on me, but you are also trying to hurt her through me. That is what I am to you, right?”

“I will not allow you to say such idiotic, and simply untrue words” Alicent is angry. Angry at herself, angry at the Gods… but she is not angry at you, not fully at least. How can she blame you for thinking that? 

She should have been smarter about this whole relationship, the Hightower thought to herself. She should have never given into her sinful desires, but the want overpowered her… If she didn't know better, she would have thought that you were the reward the Gods had given her for enduring more than fifteen years of not only being Viserys' wife, but also a Queen… Turns out you were not her reward, but her damnation.

“I love you, Y/N” She states, her voice unwavering “I do. I love you more than i have ever loved anything before” The auburn haired woman lets out a tired sigh before walking closer to you. She lifts a hand to place at your waist out of pure habit, but she decides against it when she sees the anger and hurt still lingering in the younger girl's eyes. “I do not feel angry at the thought of Rhaenyra sitting on the throne, I promise you that. If anything, I am relieved… I do not have as much responsibility as I had before… And I do have more liberties too, the eyes of the court are not on me anymore, at least most of the time they are not… If Aegon had been crowned king, most of the responsibility still would have been thrown at me, besides I know he would have not been a good king…” Alicent fidgets with her hands as she continues “And the stupid anger i had for your mother, the foolish one sided fight i had with her for years… is over. I know the tension remains, but I promise you, Y/N, I do not hate her, nor do I wish for her downfall or to cause her pain. I wish her well in her reign.” The older woman’s hands grip the fabric of her dress in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay. “So no, you are not “a discardable piece”, Princess” The Princess does not know what to say, so she ultimately decides to sit at a nearby bench in complete silence. “My dear…” Alicent whispers to the younger woman. “I do not believe you.” The princess does not look up from the ground. “I do not believe a word of what you just said.” Alicent has to swallow a sob, but she cannot hold the tears any longer.

“...Why not?” The Hightower whispers as she tries to wipe her falling tears.

“Why…!?” You stand up from the bench and walk towards her, “Why do I not believe you, you ask?! Because like I said before, you have proven yourself to be a liar, Alicent!” The Princess looks up in an attempt to stop more tears to fall, but quickly realizes that it was a futile attempt to stop what she cannot control. “And because you have never once told me about what you just said. You never open up or tell me how you feel! So how am I supposed to believe you?!” The older woman tightens her lips before speaking up. “Alright. You want me to open up? i will.” Alicent steps closer to you and lifts both of her hands to place them on your waist, and this time she decides not to stop the action. “I wish I was born a man so that I could have you like your husband has you. I wish that I was a man so that loving you was not a sin, but I have slowly come to accept that I would gladly be damned to any of the seven hells if it means that I get to have you, to love you, or to even see your face every day. But I still wished that I was born a man… because it is not fair that my own son gets to have you but if I do as much as to touch your hand I will be considered a sinner by the Gods.” She sounds desperate… She looks desperate. 

“I wish I was a man, so I could grab you by your waist, and push you against a wall, and kiss you until you stopped breathing, and do it without fear” Her hands move to your hips. “….If I were a man, I would use you, I would spoil you, I would devour you, but above all I would love you without fear” Alicent’s grip tightens against your hips. “Oh, Princess… How I would love you… If only fate would have been kinder…”

You have stayed quiet up until this point, the words you are hearing have both made you feel like the most loved woman in the seven kingdoms, and the most doomed one at the same time. “...I do  not want you a man, I want you…” You whisper, but your voice does not lack certainty. “I want you as you are…”

Alicent’s eyes look at your own. She is looking at you with such love and tenderness… the kind that makes you melt and doubt if anyone has ever been loved like that before. “I know, sweetling…” The woman’s right hand moves to your tear stained cheek.

You look at Alicent with a pained expression “I love you” Your hand reaches her cheek as you lean forward for a kiss. You kiss her softly, trying to demonstrate with a kiss all the love you feel for her.

On the other hand, Alicent needs you. She needs to feel you, she needs to taste you, she needs to love you… So she deepens the kiss and squeezes your hips. You break the kiss, but not the distance. As you two look at each other, Alicent’s hands move up from your hips to your back. She wastes no time in starting to undo them with practiced ease. “Alicent—” She finishes unlacing your dress, making it loose on you. “Shhh my dear…  We will be fine…” The older woman utters before kneeling on the soft grass and extending her hand to you, a silent invitation.

As soon as you kneel, her hands are on you again, taking off your dress. You gently grab her face and pull her in for a hungry kiss, which makes her moan in your mouth. 

The princess’ hands are tangled in the Hightowers' hair, pulling her as close as possible, trying to become one with the woman that she loves oh so dearly.

As soon as your dress is out of the way, and you are only covered by your undergarments, Alicent’s mouth shifts to your collarbone, peppering kisses as she works on removing your undergarments. She was like a woman starved. She needs you, and you need her just as much. When your undergarments are not an obstacle anymore, her mouth reaches your breasts. She kisses the soft flesh with a mix of love and hurry, making your throat release sweet gasps and making your back arch.

Oh Gods, the sounds… They only fueled Alicent’s want more and more, and it did not help that your fingers had started to unlace her dress, making it each second more and more loose.

You needed that damned dress off of her, you needed to take it off of her just as she had taken yours off of you. You needed to feel her bare body against yours. You needed her in the way you have never needed anything else… In fact, you are sure that nobody else has ever experienced this kind of need and want.

Alicent continues worshipping your breasts as if they were deities themselves. Her tongue licks your nipple while her hand massages the other, and the moans that come out of your mouth are inevitable.

You finally manage to take the dress off of her, leaving her only in her undergarments… But still, that was more clothing that you wanted her in. “I think it is a little unfair that you have those on while I am almost completely bare, do you not think so?”

The older woman sits up a little bit, stopping her ministrations on your breasts. “You are right, princess… It is not at all fair” Right after she says those words, she removes the upper part of her undergarments, leaving her chest exposed to you. Your mouth finds itself immediately in her breasts… kissing, biting, licking…

A sweet moan falls from her lips , causing you to softly moan in return.

Alicent gently pushes you to lay on the grass, but not before putting your dress as a blanket for you to lay on, causing you to smile at her caring act. “I love you so much… I did not think it was possible to love this much…” You whisper to her, and those may be the truest words you have ever said.

“I love you too. More than anything” She lays down next to you, and instantly kisses you again while she runs her hands through your body. “You are all I need, and there is no such thing as something that I would not do for you, my sweetest girl”

Alicent’s hand reaches your hips and as soon as she grabs the hem of the bottom part of your undergarments, she slides them down your legs.

“We should go to my chambers… or yours, anyone could see us here—” Your words are stopped when two of her digits rub your clit in the way only she could “Oh Gods…!”

Any thought of getting caught had suddenly vanished from your mind, and instead, it was replaced by pleasure and Alicent’s name.

“No one will see us, my darling” She moves her fingers faster, while her other hand caresses your hair “It is the hour of the owl…” She stops her movements so she can position herself between your legs “And everyone knows that this pacific garden is yours, my love, no one will come, do not worry in vain” She reassures you once she is kneeled in between your legs. 

The only response you could give to her was a weak nod, but that quickly changed once her tongue made contact with your core, making you moan her name. 

Your hands made their way to Alicent’s hair, tangling themselves between the strands. The only thoughts you had were of Alicent, nothing more, nothing less. 

One of Alicent’s hands grips one of your thighs, while the other one travels up and towards your chest.

The Dowager Queen was lost on you. On your taste, on how you feel, on how you sound… This is everything she could ever want.

“Alicent…!” You moan loudly as your back arches, involuntarily searching for more. “Alicent I’m close…!”

The older woman's hand reaches for your own, stopping her movements on your breast , and instead intertwines her fingers with yours.

“Go ahead, my darling” Alicent says without moving away from your clit, softly moaning at the taste.

Your grip on your love’s hair tightens, and your eyes roll back. It felt as if you were on fire, and you never wanted it to end… You moan and gasp Alicent’s name as you reach your climax,  your hips bucking up towards your lover’s mouth to ride the last waves of pleasure.

Alicent crawls up and lays next to you… Her hand gently caresses your body as she places a sweet kiss on your lips, when she pulls away she takes her time to admire you… spent, panting, and underneath the moonlight. 

“...Run away with me…”

[wandanatswitch]

About me

Hi! You can call me Ella or Thea. I'm 19 and English isn't my first language. I've never written fanfic before so advice is much appreciate it!

About this blog

Like I said, I've never written before and English isn't my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Fandoms/characters:

The ones that are over lined are not being written at the moment but will be soon...

MCU

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova

Pietro maximoff

House of the dragon

Alicent Hightower

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Cregan Stark

GOT

Daenerys Targaryen

Margaery Tyrell

Criminal minds

Emily Prentiss

JJ

Elle Greenaway

Penelope Garcia

Brooklyn 99

Jake Peralta

Rosa Diaz

Amy Santiago

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Orange is the new Black

Alex Vause

OUAT

Regina Mills

Zelena Mills

What I can/will write:

wlw

Smut

Bottom reader

Power bottom reader

Fluff

Angst

What I could possibly write in the future:

Hurt/no comfort

Platonic

Dark fics

Men x woman

What I will NOT write:

Pedophilia

Pet play

Little x caregiver

Top reader

[wandanatswitch]

marriage lesson

alicent hightower x rhaenyra’s daughter! reader

cw. totally based on this drabble, but can be read individually. pseudo-incest smut but mentions of real incest (uncle-niece by arranged marriage), age gap (alicent is old enough to be reader’s mother), can be interpreted as being taken advantage of but it’s consensual so i will add dubcon just to be safe.

as not only a princess, but a targaryen, you knew you had your duties with the throne, doesn’t matter how much you tried to run and hide from it, it was useless, and the time finally came, viserys, the king himself, decided that a marriage between you, the loved daughter of rhaenyra targaryen, and aemond, his middle child, would seal the peace between his children and wife when he’s gone. you had no choice but do it, aemond wasn’t that bad, he always treated you with respect, respect he didn’t have for your bastard brothers and you resented him for it, but decided to ignore since you would have to marry him. you didn’t think many things would change between you after your marriage except for the fact that you would have to have his heir, to lay with him. and that’s exactly what made you nervous.

the anxiety running through your veins on the night before the marriage made you unable to sleep, so you thought that walk around the garden would help to calm your nerves, maybe even fully accept your undeniable future. you ordered your sworn sword to ignore your midnight walk, with the promise that you wouldn’t leave the castle. your steps silently echoed through the dark halls of the red fortress, trying to find anything that could take your mind off the day followed, until you saw the queen at the garden, sitting on a bench next to the middle tree.

“princess.” her soft voice reached your ears before you could think about going back to your bedroom, scared that she might be mad about your late night walks, but she seemed nothing more than pleased at the sight of you, she looked beautiful with her long hair down in curls falling over her back with her white nightgown exposing her arms and shoulders.

“your grace… i couldn’t sleep.” you said, taking a step closer to her, explaining yourself without any hesitation.

“it’s fine, it’s normal to be nervous before your marriage.” she scoffed, suggesting you to sit by her side with a hand gesture. you obeyed, feeling much more comfortable to be on her side, maybe comfortable enough to voice some of your thoughts.

“it’s not the marriage that bothers me… it’s the consumption of it.” you refused to look at her face, preferring to face the garden instead, but you were sure that she was smiling.

“what are you scared of?”

“my mother said it hurts the first time.” the queen let out a little chuckle at your response and you felt like an idiot for a second, before she speaks again, in a much lower tone, something different in her voice.

“indeed, it’s much easier for the man gain the pleasure in the first time than for the woman, perhaps… there’s something you can do that may ease the pain, and give you just as much satisfaction.” that’s when you face her, curiosity in your eyes while doing so.

“what that would be, my queen?”

she seemed very pleased by your question “we should not talk about such things here.” that’s what you remembered before end up in her chambers, almost begging her to teach you how to not feel pain during the act, her answer would be the relief of all the agony you felt the last days, you said, and the merciful queen couldn’t help but give in to your pleads.

“lay down on the bed, i’m gonna show you.” you obeyed immediately, waiting for her next instruction, but that didn’t come, instead, she sits by your side, looking at you for a minute or two, almost like she was in a intern battle, about to do something she could regret later, but soon enough her hand rest upon your leg, going up and hiking up your silk nightgown till your thighs, your entire body shivered at her touch, and she seemed just as much as affected as you. when her hand reached under your core, she stopped, breathing heavily, almost telling herself that was her last chance to stop, she didn’t.

“he’s gonna be on top of you, like this.” she opened your legs slowly and gently, positioning herself between them, but not laying down on top of you, unable to do such a thing, one of her hand held her body up and the other hand was touching you, watching carefully your expressions, mixed in shyness and nervousness, but she could tell you were aroused as her fingers pulled your underwear to the side, finally contacting your warm core. “oh gods…” she paused, whispering those words to herself, still unbelieving she was really doing it, but the whine you let out at the contact made her smile. “when he enters you… that’s when it hurts.” her voice was just above a whisper, if you were just a few more inches away, you couldn’t hear her, the whole atmosphere felt like a secret. “but then, if you touch yourself right here…” her middle finger made contact with your clit and your body had a entire reaction, you put your hand on her shoulder, by reflection, your mouth opened in a loud, surprised sigh, the queen’s smiled grew as she saw your reaction, she could feel her own excitement start to create a discomfort between her legs, but she ignored it.

her fingers started to rub your, once untouched, pussy, playing with your clit, rolling under her fingers in circle motions, you lets out moans under her, as a thin layer of sweat started to form on your skin, your reactions seemed to please the queen.

“see? how good it is? you can ease the pain, you can pleasure yourself.” her words were sincere but you wasn’t the one pleasuring yourself, no, it was her, your queen, right on top of you, her experienced fingers playing with your most sensitive part in the best way on the night before your marriage with her son. you could be naive, but not dumb, in someway, this was wrong, a sin, could be the reason why you were even more eager for it.

“feels really good, your grace.” the title slipped of your lips as a reminder of her place, of your place, but she couldn’t help herself at this point, she was dripping wet and your needy voice whispering those words felt intoxicating, a encouragement for her to continue, she approached her face of yours, and your immediate reaction was leaning in to kiss her, but you couldn’t reach, so you tried again, free from any shame, looking like a adorable desperate mess for her eyes, that’s when she gives in, not just kissing you, but claiming your lips, you were inexperienced, but learned quickly her pace as her tongue entered your mouth, exploring eagerly, you tasted like candy for her, the sweetest of the candies with a pinch of forbidden.

“gods, you’re gonna be the ruin of me.” she finally lets herself fall on top of you, whispering those words before kissing you again, your skins in much more contact, warm and sweaty, eager and hot, she was all over you, her fingers worked so well, her presence intoxicating all your senses, all you could feel was her, the pleasure she was giving you, the pleasure she felt just by touching you, you called the gods name, lost in your pleasure, but that was in vain, not even the gods could help you now, she would be the ruin of you.

[wandanatswitch]

Texts from Emily Prentiss (18+)

[wandanatswitch]

How about an Emily Prentiss x reader smut where she uses a strap on the reader for the first time

Hey, anon! So sorry it's taking me like a million years to get through these requests. But, as always, please keep them coming! – illdowhatiwantthanks

Control

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: NSFW (18+ MDNI), smut, literally just unfettered smut, strap-on, mentions of AFAB genitalia, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: It's your first time being strapped, and you're nervous as hell. Thankfully, Emily knows what she's doing. 😉

NOTE: This can be read as older Emily or younger Emily, whatever your preference. I just haven't had a chance to use a GIF of absolutely fucking FINE gray-haired Emily yet, so....

You eyed the strap suspiciously from your perch on the bed as Emily harnessed herself up. You exhaled shakily and thought to yourself, There’s no way that’s gonna fit inside me.

Emily gave you a small smile when she looked in your direction. “You alright?” she asked, her voice confident yet concerned.

You nodded, but your voice shook. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Emily chuckled, crawling toward you on the bed and placing her hand on the side of your face before kissing you. You were breathless by the time she let you go, with a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

“You’re a bad liar,” she said, smirking and sitting back. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

You picked at your fingernails and avoided her eyes.

Emily nudged you with her shoulder. “I think you’ll like it though. But say the word and we’ll do something else. It’s not a big deal, okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, staring hard at the strap. “I mean, women enjoy this, right? Hypothetically?”

Emily shrugged. “I think it depends on the woman.”

“Have you done it before? R-received?” you asked, blushing a little.

“Yeah,” Emily told you, taking your hand in hers and running her finger along the lines of your palm. “With men, though. Never with a woman.”

“Why not?” you thought out loud.

Emily bit her lip. “When I started sleeping with women, I just… found a different role, sexually. One I liked better.”

“But did you like it when you did? Before?” You were far enough in now you might as well keep asking.

“I don’t know that my experiences with men are what you want to be comparing this to. At least, I certainly hope not.”

“But you think I’ll like it?” you asked, incredulous.

“Honey,” she said, grasping your chin to look you in the eyes. “We really don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“No, no! I… I want to, I’m just… nervous,” you admitted.

“Look at me, baby,” she said, maneuvering your body gently down on the bed, running her thumbs gently over your cheekbones. “I might be the one with the strap, but you’re the one in control. Alright? You say the word, I’ll stop. I promise. We’ll go slow, okay? Slow and gentle.”

You nodded and let Emily kiss you again, harder, more frantic than before. You moaned into her as she caressed your body, as she placed open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

You buried your hands in her hair, back arched, as she slowly swirled her tongue around your nipples, excruciatingly slow, until they were hardened into swollen peaks. You felt the cool line of her tongue draw a line from your rib cage down to your lower stomach, and you writhed as Emily placed ghostly, light kisses on your inner thighs and around your clit.

You could feel yourself glistening, feel the wetness between your legs. You were ready for more.

“Em, please,” you protested when she sat up. You opened your eyes to find Emily sitting back and applying lube to the strap, pupils absolutely blown, staring at you with equal parts love and hunger.

She wiped her hands off on the towel draped over the nightstand, then leaned forward, brushing your hair out of your face. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the bed sheets in both anxiety and anticipation.

Emily stared pointedly at you. “You’re sure?” You nodded again and she prompted. “Words, please.”

“Yes, Em,” you whispered breathlessly. “I’m ready for you.”

She blinked and shook her head, as if your words were a little too much for her.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” she said, maneuvering the strap so that it rubbed against your entrance.

You let out a strangled moan, somewhere between a scared yelp and a groan of pleasure, as Emily pressed into you, slowly filling you up.

You almost had a hard time catching your breath, as if all your body’s attention was now solely focused on this overwhelming, foreign thing inside of it. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just new, but your body did not seem to know what to do with it, and you could feel your insides pulsing with both pleasure and pain, trying to adjust to the new sensation.

When Emily had pressed most of the strap inside of you, she leaned down to caress your face, planting kisses on your forehead. “Good girl, honey. You’re doing so good for me. Are you okay?”

You nodded, face beet red from the pain and from holding your breath.

“Breathe for me, baby, alright?” Emily asked, slowly starting to rock her hips, moving the strap in and out. “Look at me, look at my face. Breathe. Like this.”

You followed the pattern of Emily’s breath to catch yours, and when you’d finally regulated your breathing, everything else seemed to fall into place too. You weren’t exactly in pain anymore as much as you were… full. But… in a good way? In a way that felt oddly wonderful? Maybe it was the physical sensation of the strap and maybe it was the knowledge that a part of Emily was inside of you that shot arousal straight from your head to your toes.

You whined a bit and moved your hips to meet Emily’s as a wave of pleasure rolled through you, intensified by whatever mysterious spot inside of you Emily had found and was now hitting relentlessly.

“Fuck, baby,” Emily breathed, and you could tell from her voice, from the flush of her chest, by the way her breath was frantic and caught every few minutes, that she was wildly turned on. And it was at that moment–staring up at Emily, seeing the sweat the beaded her forehead, the scrunch of her eyebrows in deep concentration, her hips against you in that way, particular to Emily, that always let you know she was trying hard and largely failing not to chase her orgasm–that you realized Emily was right.

It was you who had the power here. You who could make Emily fall apart, could drive her crazy. And you felt drunk all at once on power and pleasure–particularly the pleasure of seeing Emily losing her fucking mind on top of you.

With one hand, you pulled at her hips, encouraging her to go deeper, faster, harder. With the other, you cupped the back of her neck and drew her close to you, moaning in her ear.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, breath catching in her throat.

“Come on, Em,” you whispered. “You’re so close. Come on, baby, I want you to come inside me.”

The thrusting of her hips became sloppier and sloppier as she chased her high, her face pressed into your neck so that you could hear her huffs of breath, could smell her sweat as she worked for it.

Her noises became high and desperate and you felt your own orgasm close behind, knew it would come just from watching Emily fall apart, just from feeling her lose herself inside of you.

Emily’s breath hitched in her throat and you knew she was there. You pressed your own hips into hers, grinding into her, shoving the strap deeper as she jerked against you, until your own vision blurred and you wrapped yourself around Emily, riding out your high.

With a final shaky thrust into you, Emily collapsed against you, sweaty and spent. You grinned a her as she caught her breath, rolling to lay on your chest.

“Fuck,” she gasped, trying to get enough air. “You’re sure you haven’t done that before?”

You kissed her forehead and swiped a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead. “I only take strap for you, honey.”

Emily shuddered, then carefully slid out of you. “You,” she said, burying her tongue in your mouth as she removed the harness and threw it to the side of the room. “Are perfect.”

You kissed her back, surprised at how quickly arousal flooded back into your body.

“Hey,” you said, breathless, pulling your sticky bodies apart to look at her.

“What?”

“Next time,” you told her. “I want to ride you.”

Her eyes grew wide, and she nearly fell out of bed feeling for the harness again.

“How soon is next time?” she asked, glancing at you before strapping up.

“How soon can you get that on?” you grinned, sitting back to admire her.

[wandanatswitch]

just thinking...

[wandanatswitch]

Hot to Go

Pairing: Emily Prentiss × Fem!Reader

For: Anonymous Request, filling the slot of praise kink for @cmkinkbingo2024

EXPLICIT CONTENT, SMUT

Content Warnings: Strapon (reader receiving), introducing new things in bedroom, soft!Dom Emily, description of sex toys, squirting, inexperienced reader, use of baby as a pet name

Summary: You find Emily's suggestion to spice things up very appealing.

Author's Note: Holy shit when I tell you I have never been sicker. I literally was typing gibberish thinking it made sense. Anyways, dw, this is hot, I promise.

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

You stared at Emily as she came home, scraping your food around on your plate haphazardly until she was finished unpacking. Her trained eyes immediately read your body language, setting off red flags in her brain.

"Hey, is something wrong?"

You tensed up at the sound of her sultry voice. After she came back from a case, you typically gave her a massage before letting your hands wander. And sometimes, the roles were reversed.

Her smooth, soft hands caressed your muscles, relieving every ache while simultaneously growing the one in your core.

You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, setting your plate in the sink. "I, um, I saw your package."

Her face fell slightly, although you could see a burning curiosity beginning to kindle. She knew, of course, exactly what you had found. She had purchased a strap on, nothing unimaginable, about five inches. Emily took a small step towards you before reaching her hands out.

You took them gratefully, a little bit nervous about where this was going but ready to explore.

"Last week, I was thinking. I'm usually on top in the bedroom, and I know we've already used toys, but you've never tried this."

Your face flushed, already aware of your inexperience when it came to your relationships with women. But Emily was always patient, asking questions and putting boundaries in place. She truly was the perfect partner.

So that's why with a shaky breath, you nodded, giving her a kiss. "I'd like to try that."

So that's how you found yourself on the bed five minutes later, your legs spread and knees pressed to your chest. She had been properly prepping you for a while, but you were desperate.

"Em, please, I want you."

She turned away, grabbing the harness and fastening it carefully.

"Just relax, baby. I'll take care of you."

Emily positioned herself at your entrance, rubbing the spongy tip up and down your dripping slit. The teasing was making you even more hot and bothered, which she could easily tell. "Ready for me?" She waiting for your nod of affirmation before slowly pressing inside.

You gasped involuntarily, feeling the head of the cock begin to breach you. She drove it in carefully, like she was trying not to break you. As hesitant as you were before, you wanted to feel the full spectrum of what she had to offer. "The whole thing." You said, not even realizing it was out loud.

She nodded, concentration beading on her brow. "Is this what you want?" She asked as the leather harness hit your thighs.

You shook your head, savoring the feeling of her sheathed deep inside you. "I need you to be rough, like you usually are."

She bit her lip, looking the opposite of the dominating figure she usually was in the bedroom.

"Are you sure? This is something new and I don't-"

Her voice trailed off as you began rocking against her, grinding yourself up and down the rubber. She looked down for a second before deciding to begin a steady pace.

Both of your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls and going back into your cores. She moved inside you with a purpose, hitting that button with every stroke. Your face was contorted in pleasure, and she committed it to memory.

Emily watched you writhe and moan beneath her with a sly smile, unable to help fondling your bouncing tits. "Oh baby, you're taking my cock so well."

You nodded at her words, eager to please as you rutted against her to assist in your pleasure. When she began to circle your clit with a single finger, the sensation made you shudder, your whole body quaking as it surrendered to her touch. She saw this and knew it, urging you closer to that orgasm you knew you were about to hit. "Come on baby, let me see you coat my cock. Just like that."

She didn't speed up, or go harder, just kept doing the same thing she had been to get the best reaction. And you knew you were a goner the second you heard a sloshing noise from between your legs. Almost immediately, a gush of liquid emanated from between your thighs.

She fucked you through your orgasm, making sure to slowly bring you down with words of encouragement before sliding the cock out from between your legs.

"How was it?"

You just nodded, too dazed to truly respond. She laughed at that, cleaning you up and leaving the toy on the corner of the bed, ready for your inevitable request of a second round

[wandanatswitch]

Emily Prentiss P Links pt.2

part 1

! - Explicit nudity + visual porn

MDNI. Disclaimer, I am NOT responsible for your media consumption and will not take accountability from any issues it may have caused once you've clicked on the links below.

୨ৎ - Fucking back to Emily's thigh while she fingers you

୨ৎ - Pounding you on her living room rug

୨ৎ - Emily riding your strap after a hard day as unit chief :( (pt.1)

୨ৎ - Fucking her from behind after shes had a hard day (pt.2)

୨ৎ - Being in between Jj and Emily in a threesome

୨ৎ - Going shopping while she pulls you aside to an empty aisle

୨ৎ - Holding your hands behind your back while your ride her

୨ৎ - !gun play! “you really need to be a different kind of slut to enjoy this”

୨ৎ - Hotch taking care of Emily while you were out

୨ৎ - Scissoring with Emily

୨ৎ - Older!Emily sending you videos of her squirting on her sex doll wishing it were you

୨ৎ - Being her passenger princess

୨ৎ - Jj pounding Emily into her bed

୨ৎ - Dry humping against the dining table

୨ৎ - Prentiss getting fucked against a wall

~

Note: can we get this to hit 1k notes and I’ll drop links for Spencer and Aaron? (Jj is still being worked on in my drafts)