#you know how hard it was to find a good picture of him from the anime

[reiderwriter]

🔐 Password Protected 🔐

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.

A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 

The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.

“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 

“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 

“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 

The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 

“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”

You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 

It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 

“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 

“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 

“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 

“Only because you know you're wrong.” 

They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 

“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 

His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 

You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.

Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 

When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 

“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 

“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 

He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 

Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 

“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 

“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 

“Yes?” 

“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 

You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 

“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 

“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 

“Where are your manners?” 

“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 

He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 

Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 

Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 

“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.

“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 

“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 

He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 

“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 

“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 

Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 

As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 

“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 

“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 

“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 

You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 

This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 

How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 

In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 

“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 

“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 

“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 

“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 

You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 

“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 

Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 

Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 

What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 

You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 

Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 

“Spencer, wh-” 

“Watch and see, princess.” 

The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 

If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 

Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 

You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 

“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 

You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 

“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 

You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 

Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 

“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 

His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 

“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 

“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 

“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds challenge #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds writing challenge

[onsomenewsht]

Aching legs that often told us it’s all worth it

About when you just win everything and you just want a hug

》 Barcelona Femini x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader

》 word count: +2k

》 cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet [latin verse]: let the one love tomorrow who has never loved, and let the one who has loved love tomorrow

It’d be hypocritical to say you have never imagined this moment, that you have never dreamt of this exact moment. It’d be hypocritical to say that you have never, in the comfort of your bathroom, lifted a bottle of shampoo picturing this very trophy.

But no dream nor bottle of shampoo can remotely come close to how you feel when the referee blows the whistle three times, proclaiming your club the winner of the Champions League.

The legs, which just until a moment ago were close to giving up under the weight of an intense and stressful 90 minutes of running back and forth, suddenly sprint towards the centre of the pitch to join the Blaugrana bubble.

Screams and celebrations in more languages than you can recognise can’t bother you as you know well enough you’re all saying the same thing, you’re all sharing and expressing the same joy.

“Non ci credo!” [I don’t believe this!], Giulia jumps on your back without a care – the excitement to win such a big competition at such a young age fills you with pride.

What a bright future these kids have in front of them.

“Credici, it’s the first of many”

You’re optimistic tonight, it’s the first Champions League for you too after all.

You carry her around the pitch for five good minutes, hugging and cheering with every single teammate you meet in your path. The Italian girl gets dragged away not long after to join the kids’ groups.

You don’t mind it too much, you feel too old to keep up with their endless energy anyway.

For the first time since the end of the game you find yourself looking around, looking for a blonde woman – probably hidden behind a ridiculous hat.

It’s Keira who manages to catch your attention, screaming in that incomprehensible accent of hers right in your ears and dragging you towards the podium.

The trophy ceremony flies in a blur of cheers and confetti, despite your best attempts to savour every single minute of this incredible and historic win.

When, between pictures and out-of-key chants, a moment of apparent calm arrives, and you take advantage of it to look in the stands for your family.

At least the journey was not in vain this time.

The wrinkles around your mom’s mouth are a clear sign she’s been smiling for hours, the watery eyes of your father are the clearest expression of pride you will get from him. You hug them both for as long as they allow you, still reserving your biggest hug for your brother.

No sign of her yet.

“Here I was, thinking I couldn’t be more proud of you”.

You can’t hold back your tears.

After all, he’s your biggest and longest supporter, cheering for you since you used to play with boys double your age and size.

“Shut up and let me hug Andrea”, you say, reaching for your excited nephew.

The attention the toddler gives you is long enough to admire your medal and to kick a couple of times towards the goal when you let him onto the pitch. As soon as he spots Claudia, recently declared his favourite player ever, he sprints in her direction to steal her from Patri. You let him be, there’s Irene with the group of barely-grown-ups.

You don’t hold back a laugh as you see María run out of nowhere, her flag secured in one hand and a contagious smile on her face. You can’t wait to see her play again.

Then the sudden realisation you’re alone hits you hard. You’re alone, not too far away from the middle of the pitch. As much alone someone can be in the middle of a Champions League final celebration, but alone nonetheless.

Around you, teammates and friends and families are gathered in different bubbles, jumping and cheering without much of a care. The stands are filled with Blaugrana colours, singing loud and proud.

For the first time today, you let yourself get carried away by the supporters’ passion, admiring every single corner of the stadium as the privileged spectator of your own story.

You just witnessed a moment in football’s history.

You’d cry if not for the fitted body that crushes into you unexpectedly, bringing you back to the green grass without much effort.

“La poeta!”

“La reina!”

You share with Alexia a hug way more intense and sentimental than what you’re used to. You let emotion overcome you one more time as the captain holds you firmly, large hands caressing your back and keeping you present.

Her eyes are as shining as her all self, this victory means so much more than the obvious for most of you.

“You had to come in and score just like that, celebrate just like that”

“¿Qué puedo decir?” [What can I say?], the blonde shrugs her shoulders, but after years of friendship you can tell when the fine line between being humble and being aware of your own greatness blurs.

Alexia holds your face between her hands, the smirk painted on her lips shifts slightly to a more serious smile.

“Te lo mereces, lo sabes?” [You know you deserve this, right?]

“We all do”

“No, no, you deserve this”, she says firmly, addressing the elephant in the room dressed as the loan that last year broke your confidence.

You were there in Turin, it looked like a twist of fate to be away from Barcelona when they lifted the most beautiful trophy in Europe’s football.

This victory means more to you than what you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.

That’s one of the reasons why you’re still looking for her in the crowd.

“Enough with this mushy stuff, where’s my favourite Putellas?”

“Lo juro, si no dejas de hablar así de mi hermana–” [I swear, if you keep talking like this of my sister–]

“Oh, I was talking about your mom, but now that we’re on it–”

The punch she throws on your arm is light, but the message is clear. You and Alba have too much fun provoking Alexia, who is way overprotective of the both of you to realise that the jokes are only aimed at annoying her.

Feeling called upon, the two women join you with huge smiles on their faces. Eli welcomes you with a motherly hug, somehow sensing the tension on your shoulders.

“¿Qué es esa mala cara?” [Why the long face?]

“She can’t find her girlfriend”

“¡Alba, callate!”

Alexia raises an eyebrow at her sister’s quip, not happy to be let out about this.

She doesn’t know about the situationship you find yourself in. It’s not like you don’t trust the blonde, you do. But you’re aware of the protective tendencies and, on top of everything, you’re a bit scared of the lecture about the importance of being honest with your feelings and all that shit.

She’s too emotionally mature now.

Luckily, Olga comes running to meet you, distracting the captain from any inquisitive question without much effort.

“You’re disgusting”, you say to Alexia, now used to her open smile and carefree attitude whenever her girlfriend is close enough to light up her usually stoic face.

“¡Oy!”

“I wasn’t talking about Olga, I like Olga”, you state, dropping an arm around Alba’s shoulder who immediately joins the joke, “Yeah, lovesick Alexia is scary”

Eli has to intervene, still laughing at her daughter’s expense.

“They’re just jealous”

Olga’s right, you can hide it from everyone but yourself. You’re definitely a little envious of the cute relationship and happiness that seem to follow your friend like a glowing shadow.

You want a love like that too.

Your gaze starts wandering around the pitch once again, hoping to find the person who’s hunting your dreams and nightmares.

You know she’s here, you overheard Keira talking about her before the game.

She’s just not here for you.

Quickly excusing yourself from the Putellas’ family, muttering something about looking for your nephew to relieve anyone who found themselves babysitting, you bid your goodbye.

Before you can get away Alexia hugs you one last time, letting you know you’re not escaping her questions.

You find Andrea easily, entertained as he runs around followed shortly by another child – Mapi.

“Oh, wow, it’s like looking at your future!”, you teasingly nod at Ingrid, who’s way too entranced by the scene.

The Norwegian just grins, holding you as she kisses your forehead, always amused about the height difference. Her silence is loud enough.

Another jolt of jealousy strikes your body, immediately subsided by the reassuring presence of the defender and the loving gaze reserved for the enthusiastic Spanish woman nearby.

You couldn’t hate them even if you wanted to, they’re too beautiful together and you’re too happy for them.

When your nephew finally notices you, he seems to remember you actually are his favourite person. He outruns María, literally jumping between your arms – risking falling on his face just once by tripping over the flag that one of your teammates must have tied around his neck like a cape.

“¡Visca Barça!”

“Your father supports Milan”

“Ser del Barça es el millor que hi ha!”, he states in an impressive Catalan.

“Who taught you that?”

The kid points at Aitana and Jana, both sporting a smug grin all over their faces as they greet you from close by. The latter is lucky you’re feeling merciful enough to not embarrass her in front of her girlfriend.

You can just shake your head and laugh about the situation.

“You can give Keira Spanish lessons”, you say to Andrea as you position him comfortably on your shoulders.

You try to be subtle as you observe all the people on the pitch. If anyone asks, you are simply looking for your brother in the crowd of Blaugrana to return the child to its rightful owner.

Even if your brother is not a gorgeous footballer you can’t get out of your mind.

Of course you find him in a conversation with Keira.

“Tell me more about this high school suspension”, you hear the English midfielder ask.

“Tell her absolutely nothing!”

The chat goes on for a few more minutes, you’re a little ashamed to admit that you’re not listening to a single word as you still look around.

It’s your nephew who brings you back to reality, pulling you by the collar of your medal. You quickly bid your goodbyes to both of them, making sure you can meet again before they have to go back home and you have to be dragged into all the post-final engagements.

“You’re hopeless”

“What?”

“You’re both unbelievable”

“Where is your girlfriend? You’re bearable when Laura is around”

“She’s somewhere with your girlfriend”

At her obvious taunt, your gaze still flies in all the directions your neck humanely allows.

You really are hopeless.

Keira’s laugh is the final nail in the coffin, the only one amused about the situation.

She’s also the one who introduced you to the person you thought would just be a fun night out over a year ago, the person who turned out to be comforting and a constant thought.

The person who makes you realise midair you’re falling in love.

No strings attached though.

“Go to her!”

“She’s not here for me”

“Don’t drag me in, you useless stubborn–”

The blonde has a point, you can’t deny that the mutual friendship is the perfect excuse to find each other in the same places at the same time. The perfect opportunity to see each other again as much as possible without questioning the blurred line between an armless fuck and growing feelings.

Nights of fun soon turned into morning talks in the warmth of a hotel bed, then whole days spent exploring each other’s lives.

If only one of you dares to admit wanting more.

“Ohi, champ!”

As you hear her voice you never turn around so fast in your life, almost injuring yourself from the force with which you move. You don’t even hear Keira bust out laughing at your side.

“Hi”

“Ciao”

What a stupid smile you have on your face, just staring at each other a few steps away.

You’re sweaty and tired from the match and the celebrations, pretty sure your hair is a mess and your legs are on the verge of giving up. Yet she thinks she has never seen you more beautiful.

“Oh, for fuck’ sake, just kiss or whatever”, Keira grabs you both by an arm when neither of you makes any sign of moving, impatiently pushing you closer to the other and leaving, muttering something you’re not sure you want to know.

“Don’t run too far, you still have an interview in Catalan to do”

You don’t hear your friend’s response, you don’t even see her finger up in the air. When Leah laughs every other sound and person fades into the background.

“Can’t wait for that to happen”

“You and any other culés”

A few more moments pass before the blonde adds, “I think congratulations are in order”, pointing to the medal you wear around your neck – suddenly heavier.

“Thank you”, you whisper, lowering your gaze and nervously turning the object over in your hands.

You don’t need to see her, always hyper aware of her presence around you. You feel her approaching and enveloping you in a warm embrace, the hug you’ve been waiting for all day.

You have to admit to yourself it’s the best you’ve received today.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #barcelona femini x reader #barcelona femeni #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #barca femeni #leah williamson #barcelona women #alexia putellas #keira walsh #woso imagine #here we go again #my english is somehow getting worst #still planning a part 2 #my wo(rd)so

[venmondiese]

Secret teamwork

a request from my lovely @slytherincursebreaker ♡ thank you so much!

Summary: Having a non-commited relationship with Aemond is hard, but as you find yourself pregnant, it might just be harder.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, MENTIONS OF ABORTION, p in v sex, pregnant sex, dom and sub undertones, fingering, boss/secretary adventure, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink. ✧Word Count: 6.02k

Aemond placed his own hand around your mouth, to keep your little squeals and moans away. Your pencil skirt all the way up to your hips, it was almost funny, as Aemond kept you seated atop of one of the broken tables in the storage room of the building. 

“A-Aemond!” You press your hands on his chest, moving the hand on your mouth. “You are… going to be late!” You whine.

“Let them wait” he says softly, his hand pressing against your mouth as his right hand is between your legs, tormenting you as he likes.

He is knuckles deep in your pussy, and he watches your expression as you mewl, holding on his shoulders for dear life. This is probably one of the things he enjoys most in life; tormenting you to his delight. Having you drool and moan like a wanton whore, and how your cheeks get red from the effort to be quiet. 

Your pussy might be one of his favourite things, how warm and wet it is for him. Gives him a sense of power as he knows that he can have you melting on his arms just by fingering you. 

He knows the effort you put to look nice, your face of makeup, your hairstyle, your little outfit. He loves to mess it all up. If it wasn’t for the presentation with affiliates of the company of his family, he’d probably be fucking you with no problem.

But he cannot risk not being presentable as he is the main speaker during the conference. He has a lot of things to explain, and he prefers not risking his image. 

“Shh, shh, moaning like the little whore you are” he says, smirking, as he tries not to allow any little scream to get out loudly. “Come on, baby, delight me. Cum on my fingers” he says, saying sweet nothings in your ear along with it. 

Your big nervous eyes, looking at him as he covers your mouth, is a sight that he doesn’t want to forget, truly.

He is hard, and he hates how he can’t do anything about it. He just looks at you and tries to give you all the pleasure he can’t get. 

“Wanna show me your little moans, baby?” He asks as you nod, and he can picture your pout as your eyebrows go up in a needy way. 

You feel his thumb, going in circles around your clit. It is probably the most delightful thing he does, because it is always precise and pleasurable, as if he has perfected his technique to be at its very best.

Your grip on his shoulders, as he liberates your mouth from his palm, and you let out a sob of pleasure, trying not to scream so loudly, because if you did so, it was over for you and him.

He relishes himself in the little moans and whimpers, in the way your pussy clenches around his three fingers, and he kisses your lips; his hand on the back of your neck is firm, keeping you in place as he kisses and plays with your tongue. 

“Open your mouth” he whispers, and you look up to him, knowing exactly what he is up to. 

You love how he can dominate you so easily. Most men had to make an effort to try to look dominant. Aemond had it naturally. 

He spits on your mouth, making sure to look at you as it falls on your tongue, and the way your pussy clenches as you swallow.

Gods, you are soaking wet. He knows you are close by how loudly your wet pussy sounds as he fingers you, and the little mewls you let out as you press your forehead on his shoulder lets him know that you are losing composure, and your legs are becoming numb.

“I need it, you know that… Give me good luck, baby…” he says softly, and as you let out a loud moan, your thighs squeezing his hand, he leans down to capture your lips on his.

He knows how you need tenderness after cumming. You are prone to become sensible, and more these days, when you always need reassurance. 

He kisses you, sloppy and a bit urged, but not too messy. His tongue makes its own way on your mouth, and he can feel how you are trying to keep up as you let out a muffled loud moan, and he can feel how your walls involve his fingers as you cum.

As you rest your forehead on his shoulder, he takes his fingers out, just to suck them to enjoy your taste, even if it is just a bit. It drives him wild, but he has to restrain himself and nothing makes him more frustrated. 

He rubs your back, as you pant loudly, holding the edge of the broken table, which luckily didn’t break further. He moves to watch the hour on his expensive clock, and he still has twenty five minutes to arrive. He sighs, knowing that he cannot put it on hold any longer.

“We have to go” he says softly, and you whine, not wanting to. 

He moves a bit back, and you let your head fall down as you try to relax your breathing. He makes you lean slightly back, your hands hesitantly going back on the table to hold your weight. 

He moves your panties, which he moved and made sure they remained on the side, so it doesn’t bother his work. He places himself between your legs, as he looks down and both of his hands move to accommodate your panties gently, without a hurry. His fingers tentatively caress your clit, but don't press their luck. 

“Come on. We can go to the bathroom and get presentable again” he whispers, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet. 

The heels you wear are probably uncomfortable, and he sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eye. He pulls down your carefully ironed pencil skirt, and he tries to make it presentable again. 

“You didn’t bring other heels?” He asks softly.

“No” you murmurs, looking at him with tired eyes.

“Gods, woman.” He says rolling his eye “I am going to start to buy you comfortable shoes and leave them in my office, so you don’t have to wear those things”

“It is protocol” you say looking at him, as he takes your purse and hangs it on your shoulder.

“I am the boss. If I want you to walk around naked or in pyjamas, it is my call to make” he states softly, and he leans to kiss your cheek lovingly. “Come on” 

He grabs your hand, and you follow him quietly, as he makes sure no one is around as you two walk, hand in hand to the bathroom.

He goes into the men’s bathroom and you to the opposite.

He is quite meticulous, and so your appearance isn’t messy or ruined. If something, you look exhausted. You reapply your red lipstick, and put a bit more mascara. Not too much, you don’t wanna look vulgar either.  

You place some loose hairs back into position, and accommodate your clothes again. You sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror.

The secretary and her boss. You think, as you press your lips together, nibbling the inside of your mouth. 

Once you go out, Aemond was outside waiting for you, using his phone to probably answer some texts. 

“Ready” you say, and he looks flawless once again. If he had an erection, there is no trace of it. He is truly surprising, like a little box of mysteries.

“Let’s go then” he says as he looks at you, hesitating before walking away and pressing the elevator button.

The way to the auditorium is silent. He checks his phone, and you check the little agenda where you write down everything he has to do. 

“Westeros' investors group will be here” you remind him. “And so will the Yi Ti’s empresarial boss, as you know…”

“Uh huh” he agrees. “Will my half sister…?”

“Yes. Rhaenyra will make her appearance as the heir of…”

“Don’t”

So you don’t. “Edyr Karstark will be as well” as the lift doors open, he walks out and you follow him. “Coryanne Dayne and Morgan Martell as well, from Dorne…”

You walk with him as he stops, and you see his mother and grandfather waiting for him at the door. 

Aemond looks at them, sighing. He turns to you, and you have to take a moment to move your gaze away from them.

You see the posture of Alicent straighten as she looks at you, as if squinting her eyes slightly. She holds her arms, her green dress is elegant and she looks intimidating. Otto Hightower makes no effort to hide his disgust, and he looks at you as if his eyes could throw daggers at you.

“Don’t mind them” he whispers to you “They just…”

“Hate me” you finish for him, accepting the fact.

“They… It’s just complicated”

“I am the whore who lies with my boss for his money.” You say the words that his family thinks but never say out loud. 

“You are not… You are more than that” he says softly. 

You walk behind him, as he goes to greet them. You always follow him everywhere, most of the time. You take care of the tiny details of his work life that he didn't care about. Learning names in meetings, learning the interest of the people to help him. Reminding him of his busy schedule.

“Aemond” his mother greets him, a kiss on both sides of his cheeks.

You two becoming closer was just natural, you’d told your friends. You two were single, and you spent more time with him than in your own home. And otherwise. 

It was not long ago when his sister and brother found out about you two, and so his mother knew naturally, and so did his father, grandfather, half sister… It scared you to death.

Alicent had talked to you about quitting, how easier it would be than a scandal. You never could realise if she was saying this from the goodness of her heart or to keep you away from his prestigious son. 

Otto Hightower was more direct, as he presented you with a letter of dismissal, which Aemond had to defend you. It was embarrassing, but you just… liked him, to endure his odd family.

“Hello, miss” Alicent says, and Otto greets you as well. You force a smile, and nod a quick greeting to her. “They are all waiting for you” she murmurs, and looks at him. “Your father has come for this, as well”

“Ah” he says, you can see how his mouth turns down in disgust. 

“It is well prepared” Otto adds “It is fine work. If your project is approved, those months in Yi Ti will be all for you” 

You look at your hands at the reminder. You won’t be going along, and it was a bit odd. On purpose, if even. But you have never said it outloud, less to Aemond, because it was truly an amazing project.

 “If you could bring me a glass of water…?” He asks you, and you nod. 

You walk to the presentation table, looking at the people around, chatting and greeting, no one really watches you. You take some of the bottles and pour it down in a glass for him, walking to the door, as you almost stumble against Alicent and Otto. 

“I wanted to thank you” Alicent says, and you stop a bit confused, looking at her. “He wouldn’t have done it so smoothly. You two do a great teamwork” 

It is half a compliment, you guess. She is trying, at least to be cordial. “Thank you”

You are quick to escape, and you watch Aemond at the door waiting for you. He doesn't seem too nervous, he never reveals his feelings so easily.

“Thank you” he says, in a softer voice. Drinking a bit of water, leaning out to see the people inside “I’ll remember those names you said. Any particular… thing you recommend me to say?”

You look at him, and say “Well, a greeting is much more welcomed than just starting speaking.” He looks back at you, and he nods softly “And look at them in the eyes”

“It is them who don’t see me in the eye.” He says trying to be funny.

“I am serious” your lips curl up, and add “Don’t be nervous. No one here knows more about it than you. And try not to fight” 

“You know me too well, for my disgrace” he says smiling. “How do you feel about that great bonus in your next check?” He asks slightly amused.

“Feels like the Gods have take mercy on my soul” 

You move to take a little lint on his shoulder, dangerously close in public. He isn’t one for public displays of affection, less with you. 

Perhaps that’s why his mother and family disapproved more than if you two were something. You were his secretary, and him your boss. Not partners, no compromise. 

It makes you anxious, sometimes. How could you even ask him? Not that he would take advantage of his power position over you. It wasn’t about asking your boss what exactly you two were. It was about asking him, Aemond Targaryen, what he truly felt about you. 

You could find another job, but you couldn’t find another him, another Aemond. 

“You’ll do fine. I made sure there is water, and those mint sweets” you tell him. “The control of the presentation is ready, and there are no cables for you to stumble on. The table is seated so your blind spot doesn’t face the public. It is rotated so you can read the presentation as well, so don’t worry.” 

Aemond looks at you, looking inside for a moment before wrapping one arm around your body, pulling you both out of sight as he leans to kiss you passionately, for a few seconds.

You kiss him back, if anything a bit surprised about his bold action. As he pulls away, he is quick to recomposture himself, and smirk. 

“I don’t have lipstick on?” 

“No…”

“Good” he says with a smirk. “Go and take a seat. You have earned it” 

With that, he walks inside. You blink, a bit flustered and surprised. When you look inside, you see Alicent Hightower watching you, all tense up, sitting next to her husband, who is talking to Rhaenyra. She saw you. 

You were about to be sick. You turn around as a gag comes out of you, covering your mouth, yet you don’t feel the disgusting feeling of something coming up your throat. Perhaps because you have not eaten anything today.

You try to act normally, as you walk to sit at the side of the window, looking at the cars in the street passing by, as you hear how the conference is to start. 

“Where is he, again?” 

 “Probably Yi Ti right now” you say, sitting on the kitchen counter as Amanda prepares the lasagna. 

“And he got funds for this? Like his rich family couldn’t just… allow him to borrow money?”

“Doesn’t work like that” you say amused. 

“Ha. I know” Amanda says, chuckling. She was one of your ex coworkers, and you used to have lunch with her everyday, before she quit for a better job. “How is he?”

“In what sense?” you ask, looking at your margarita yet you haven’t drink any of it yet, too occupied in the chatting.

“Happy, I mean. I don’t think I have ever seen him… Happy. Or smile. Have you?”

“Yeah” you say smiling at how silly that question is. “Duh.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Amanda turns on the furnace as she waits for it to get a bit hot before putting the lasagna, and she looks at you. 

“And did his family was there? His mum? The Alicent Hightower?”

“All of them. Viserys, Alicent, Otto, even Rhaenyra. Helaena went for moral support” you say chuckling. 

“And what about the mistress?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes.

“Alys Rivers?” You ask her. “I think she was there…”

You try to shrug it off, but it boils your blood the thought of her. More with her story with Aemond, how intimate they had been. It makes you gag.

“Oh, it burns you from the inside!” She giggles, and she places the lasagna inside the oven. “Is the Margarita good? I haven’t tried it…” she asks, moving across the kitchen to take a sip. 

“I will try it…” you say, moving your straw around, and you are hit by the hard scent of alcohol.

“It is good for a drink bought in the supermarket, you know? I waited for…”

“I am going to throw up” you say standing up from the seat, as you make your way to the bathroom of her house.

Aemond has been gone for maybe two weeks at this point, and you keep on gagging at smells, of any disgusting kind. There were only four things you relished on; the smell of the mints that Aemond liked, gasoline, hot dogs and coffee. 

Throwing up is not nice; the first time is because of the sickness, and the rest is purely out of disgust for the vomit. 

You wash your mouth, and try not to leave her bathroom with the scent. Once you come back, you see that Jasper, her fianceé, has arrived.

“Are you okay?” Amanda asks, as she walks over to you. “You love Margaritas, are you not sick? Oh! Is that restaurant where you went with Aemond to the triumph meal?” 

He made you accompany him, with his family and associates, to a dinner that his grandsire organised, in an expensive restaurant, after the triumph of having his project accepted and founded. You vomited all the food at night, probably because of the lobster. 

“It was over two weeks ago” you say, shaking your head. “I always get sick when I am about to get my period. Being irregular has its disadvantages ” 

“Oh, I get that feeling” she chuckles, going back to the kitchen as her finaceé is drinking her margarita.

You stand still for a few moments, and you realise the possibility. Probably the reality, as you had all the symptoms... it made total sense, and you stood frozen as you realised.

You were pregnant.

It is two months later when Aemond comes back. Half of his project has been completed, a total success. But his business in Yi Ti was more than done, and the oriental atmosphere was too much for a Westerosi man like him. 

He was not surprised with your resignation letter as he came back to the office, which was why you wouldn’t answer any of his texts or calls. Three weeks into his journey, he got your resignation letter, accepted by his grandsire, which only needed his signature. 

He called, and called. And nothing. You probably ghosted him, and he called Helaena to check on you. He didn’t trust his mother or grandsire. 

According to his sister, you just needed to let go of some things of the past as you realised you had more ambitions than being a secretary. 

On Friday, he is in your apartment. The building was old, and it had barely four floors, and you lived at the end of it. He has stayed in your apartment once or twice, but mostly he just passed when he dropped you off.

Luckily, he comes at the time where the old lady of the first floor is getting inside with all the supermarket bags.

“Let me help you” Aemond says as the lady is struggling between managing the heavy bags and opening the door. 

“Oh, thank you, young lad” the woman says, as he takes all the bags from her arms. He enters first, and waits for her to walk, very slowly.

The woman opens the second glass door to enter the building, and she stops at the mailbox, checking for her apartment number.

“You want me to grab yours too?” The sweet lady asks, and Aemond hesitates.

“Uh, sure. Thank you” he says, and in the silence he realises he has to say the number “41” he remembers the number of your apartment, and the lady grabs the mail for today. 

They make an exchange, where he leaves the bags in her house, and she gives him the mail. She is sweet and Aemond has a smile as he has to go all the way up to the fifth floor. 

He is not one to spy, but you have a lot of mail. Mostly about some subscriptions you made, he is curious to see if you have anything from your new job. 

He stops, mid stairs as he watches the pink envelope.  A woman’s choice. 

He hesitates a bit, before he pulls out his phone. He remembers that. Helaena and Rhaenyra both made a contribution for that clinic, didn’t they? It was the woman’s building of the hospital in Visenya’s Hill. He walks slowly upstairs, he is midway the third floor, as he walks up slowly. 

He searches for the name of the clinic, and he hates how bad the signal is. He sees the three dots moving, loading the page slowly. 

His stomach drops as he reads. Pregnancy termination clinic.

He doesn’t understand anything. 

He stands frozen, with phone on one hand as he holds the envelope behind. His mind is racing. He knows you are not subscribed to it just because. He hasn’t heard in months about you, and he doesn’t know what to conclude about this information. 

It feels an eternity before he knocks on your door. Once. Twice. Nothing.

He doesn’t hear the wood crack under your weight. It was painfully obvious when someone stepped on it, he remembers one time when he dropped you at your house, drunk, and you both laughed at how silly it sounded at every step you both took. 

He missed you, he realises. Scratch that. He knew that he missed you, but not that much for his heart to ache like that at the memory. He misses you. He feels incomplete. 

You open the door, obviously expecting anyone but him. 

You are wearing a black hoodie, using a face mask, probably orange scented. You always made sure to be well looking  in the sense that you took care of your appearance. 

You look different. He blinks slowly, as he looks at you, frozen in his place. He isn’t normally so stiff, he is usually more straightforward, a man of business. 

“Aem– Mr. Targaryen” you say, a bit surprised. The way you refer to him stings.“You are back. To what I owe the pleasure?” 

It is at the same time that you realise that he was holding your mail, as his eye trails down to your hidden stomach. Your clothes are too big to realise, which only makes him more confused, and suspicious. He can’t see anything to confirm, but it is unusual, you don't like to wear these kinds of clothes.

“You… quit” he says, dumbfounded.

“Yes. Nothing personal” you say tapping your fingers on the door. You were anxious. “I am sorry if it came at a bad time.”

He looks at you, as the lie comes naturally to you. 

“Can I come in?” 

Your place is a bit messier. He knows something is up. You move your hands to take off that stupid face mask, and your face is all shiny from it.

“I am not really… I was not expecting… visitors”

He was more than a visitor, and you knew it. You missed him. He looks as handsome as you remembered. You didn’t go to the airport, but you kissed him farewell in his office. 

“Are you… pregnant?” 

You blink at your boss. At your something. At your baby daddy. At Aemond Targaryen.

He can see the little panic in your eyes, and he lets a scared sigh. He covers his mouth as he looks at the side.

“I should have been with you” he says regretfully, and his heart feels at the floor. “I was away, and you…. You should have been so…” he doesn’t know if it is useful to say it, it was probably traumatic to you. “Forgive me. If there is anything…”

You hear his heartbroken words, still holding the door as you blink. “ thank you…” 

“We are still a team” he says, looking at you. “We… we always had been. I would have dropped everything to be with you at that moment” 

He looks at you, so calm and collected. He feels like losing his mind, and he feels pure guilt. He wants to ask you. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you? He knows it is selfish to ask, but it was also his mistake. He would have helped you, held your hand and all of it. He would have been prepared, read about it, to comfort you in the grief, all of it.

“And forgive me for… spying on your mail, I just wanted to see if you had a new job…” he says, extending the mail, embarrassed and vulnerable. You have never seen him like this, it is almost scary.

You take the mail, and you see the pink envelope first, among the white ones. It was atop, and you looked at him.

“Maybe you should get inside” you say, moving to let him in. 

He sits on the couch, and you sit by his side. The silence was crushing, and so you speak.

“I should have told you..”

“I understand-”

“Let me speak” you say, and he shuts up. He looks at you, and you keep talking. “I… I didn’t get an abortion, Aemond” you say softly, looking at him, at how his expression changes, trying to get the words in. 

“What?”

“I just… It was an option. I was… I was scared. I am still, a bit. But… I want this baby” you admit softly, not looking directly at him, as you so shyly admit your feelings to him.

He is confused. “You… You didn’t?”

“No…”

He leans back on the couch, breathing hard at the realisation. He might faint, he has gone through many emotions in little time.

“So you are…”

“Still pregnant. Very much” you confirm, and he lets out a sigh. “And… you are the father”

Aemond bites his lips on the inside of his mouth, and he looks at the ceiling, passing a hand over his face. 

“Oh” 

“Yeah…” you say, at how stiff he is. “Three months and a half.” 

As you stand to grab your wallet, he thinks. Three months and a half back, it was probably the time when he had so much work left, that he fucked you in his office. Or was it the time where you two fucked over the cabin? 

“Here” you say showing him the ecography picture. 

In the middle of the black part of the ecography, he could see the curled up little figure. He looks at it, as if it would disappear if he moved his gaze away. It is wonderfully diminutive, yet it fills him with pride, seeing something so little that makes him feel so many things. 

He missed it. It was the most important ultrasound, and he missed it. He wasn’t there to hold your hand either, when you took all the exams to determine any genetic syndrome. He should have been, right at your side, to be part of it as well.

“It is… wonderful” he says, with a small chuckle. “You think, I could… get a copy?”

It is the subtle confirmation that you didn’t expect. He wanted this, as you did. You never talked about having kids, less so when you were never anything serious. 

“Keep it” you say softly. “I already took like hundreds of copies, you can keep it.” 

It is a surprise that he sobs, and he looks at the image. 

“You… Oh, gods..” he says, feeling utterly hopeless as he watches the little paper. He is going to be a dad, it was so… odd. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left..”

“I didn’t either” you say. 

He looks at the image, he doesn’t even cry on purpose, just some tears falling naturally. His thumb moves to caress the paper, as if it was a soothe for him and the baby.

“You quit, how are you… affording all of…?” He makes a gesture. Everything, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to be invasive.

“I have a part time job at a friend’s coffee shop.” You say with a nod “And a fair bit of savings” 

He looks at you, shaking his head as he feels his tears dry. He was thinking so many things. He is going to be a dad. He has not contributed anything. He has to take care of you. And the baby. He has to help you. He was going to be a dad.

“you shouldn’t have quit. It was a stable, good paid job, and the office has great maternity leaves.” 

“And would they give me more months because my boss is my baby daddy?” You ask, not from malice, but he bites his lip.

“They told you to quit, didn’t they?”

“Nobody told me” you assure him.

“They paid you.” 

“They didn’t. I wouldn’t have accepted it”

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” He asks, almost heartbroken.

You look at him, nervous, and you don’t dare to look him in the eye. “I did the maths, Aemond. You didn’t seem the type to… you know. Compromise” 

He looks at you. It was right. He wasn’t one to show his emotions. It was probably the first time someone saw him cry, since he was like twelve, and he always made sure to keep a distance between him and the rest.

“I am not.” He says softly, looking at the image, and he sighs. “But… you and I are a family” he says, licking his lips. “and we will always be a family, with… them” he adds, pointing with a tilt to the ecography.

It is a haunting truth, that you knew. You’ll always be bound to Aemond. A scary thought. 

“We will. But I want to know, what are we?” You finally ask him. Decisively, you need to know. 

“You have my body and soul” He admits softly, and he bites his lip. “Both of you. I am committed to you two…, always. Always, of course. There is no one else I want, that I choose.”

You truly don’t know how or when you end up in his lap, kissing softly as he holds you on it. It is different from his dominant demeanour. 

He is almost rewarding you with caresses and kisses, holding you gently. He would do anything you ask him to, and he is so afraid to lose you two. He almost did, both of you, and he doesn’t want it to happen ever. 

He holds you as if you were fragile, and to this moment you are; he holds both of his most precious things, and you carry his baby.

“I am not going to break” you say against his mouth, pressing a little tighter. “I need you” you add, your hot breath on his mouth as his hands presses in your back.

“I need you too” he admits, as he accommodates on the sofa to hold you. “Here or on the bed?” 

“Wherever…”

The bed it is.

He held you all the way there, which was not a long way either, but it is good to be in your bedroom, where it smells like you, and some strange mint scent that reminds him of the mints he eats.

“Look at you, baby” he says as he takes off your clothes, eagerly, and desperate. “So beautiful as always, dripping wet for me” he says, and you blush slightly from his compliments. “aren’t you?”

“yes. i am”

“how am i even going to go on with my work when you are not there to indulge me a bit?” He asks, as he is the one to desperately take off his clothes, as you lean against the pillows, watching him. “When the idea of leaning you on my desk was enough to make me finish all of it quickly, and call you to my office.” 

He accommodates behind you, both of you laying as he kisses your shoulder, and then your nape, and leaves soft love bites, not meant to last long.

“But now you’ll just wait for me at home, hm? In my own bed, all for me” he says and you search his lips and share a sloppy, messy and wet kiss, needy and primal. 

You missed him. You needed him. 

The pregnancy hormones drove you insane. And missing Aemond was something your little babe was sure to make you feel it at all times. 

“Yes, yes, I need you inside” you feel his hand, moving to wrap your waist, and he moves behind you, holding your leg with his other hand. 

He cannot wait to see you heavily pregnant. You have a little belly, which is adorable. He supposes that, as he was, the baby will be small too. 

But he craves for when you’ll need his help to do anything. And he’ll delight himself in it.

“you missed me?”

“So much” you turn your head, for your arm to be around his neck. It is probably a twisted position, but he is not one to complain. 

His lips capture yours as his cock finally slides into you, you moan against his mouth, and his grip on your body tightens a bit. He is going insane.

He is ruthless at every thrust he gives you, and you surely are more tender at each movement of his cock in your pussy. The time apart, or your hormones, he didn’t care, as he immerses himself in pleasure. 

“So big” you moan against his mouth, and his hot breath hits your mouth as well. “I love it”

“I love you too” he says, his face nuzzling your cheek as he doesn’t think too much about what he just said, and just focuses on the way your cunt clenched around him, warm and soaked, a very warm welcome.

He holds you as precious as you were to him, but firmly, tightly. His hips swing as his cock moved and makes it’s way in your pussy, the little way his cock throbs inside, leaking the precum inside. 

“You already marked me. Everyone will know that i am yours– so fucking yours…”

The thought makes him moan. He always loved that, making you go out of his office full of hickeys and love bites, sending you back to your desk all flustered and shaky.

“Hm, you love that, don’t you? They can’t fuck you like I do” he adds smugly, as he presses open mouthed kisses on your neck.

You moan as his fingers search your clit, and are quick to find it, and he groans at how receptive you have become.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. So, so hard” he promises, for the future. For now, he just needs you. “Such a good girl. Always a good girl” 

The way you squirm, and your whimpers drive him into release as well. Your legs always do that thing that he knows very fondly, they shake and your muscles tense up when you are cumming, in a very certain way. It is almost always the same, and he has grew to find it endearing, everytime he fucks you he waits for that moment. 

He thinks he is much simpler, he holds you closer to him, as if forcing you to remain there, as his balls tighten and he cocks throbs before cumming deep inside. He lets out a loud groan, rolling his eye back as he holds you. 

The way you two remain naked, yet laying together it is something he never does usually. With you, a few times. He always tends to you, and made sure you were relaxed. But you never did pillowtalk after it, you usually were exhausted and he was tired too. 

“You know what? It is almost unfair” he says, moving to search his pants.

“Oh?” You ask curiously, as your eyes follow his frame. You don't get what he means exactly, but you wait for him to elaborate.

“I brought you a present. Well, I brought two things–” he finds it in his pocket and extends it to you, and you smile upon the realisation.

“oh, Aemond…” you say looking at the bracelet, and you smile at him. “It must have been… so expensive”

“It is your favourite colour” He points out “Isn't it?”

You nod, as he moves to leave it in your nightstand, just to pull you closer to him. 

“You have given me more… expensive gift” he adds, moving to your side again, and he wraps his arm around your waist, leaving one of his hand to rest atop of your belly, firm and growing. “Thank you”

You see the gratitude in his eye, and you smile softly. “Well, to be fair it is a product of very extensive teamwork…”  

“It truly is, hm?” He asks, smiling as he moves to your side again. “We truly do make an remarkable team”

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond modern au #house of the dragon #aemond smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemondtargaryen #aemond targaryen #ewan nation #aemond the kinslayer #hotd #prince aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond #aemond one eye #aemond

[heelust]

◟📼 LOVE is in the little things.

WARNiNGs 𝝑𓏲 brief mention of food, kiss PAIRiNGS 𝝑𓏲 enhypen x f!reader‎ GENRE 𝝑𓏲 fluff, comfort, angst 𓄲 DOLLiE's note ; i reposted this from an old accunt i had :> ﹙🗞️﹚

YANG JUNGWON ; lending you his time and ears.

"how was your day, love?" he asked, pulling you closer to him.

he often keeps asking you about your day, job/college and sometimes even listens to your endless rants by covering your body with his arms.

LEE HEESEUNG ; writes songs about you.

songs have always been his best friends as long as you know him. the songs which made him confess his feelings for you, the lyrics which made him cry during the hard times, the music which led him to his desired career. that's what those lyrics' sheets on the table meant to him, his life.

going through the roughly written lyrics, you found yourself immensely immersed into every single word. everything on the page was about you, only you.

his adoration for you was written on the sheet of paper, hundreds of words which had the only one meaning behind them; love.

PARK JONGSEONG ; silence.

seeking out comfort in his arms is better than anything in this world. there's no chit chat, rants, arguments; it's you and him needing each other's presence behind the door.

pulling you closer to his chest, he places a tender kiss on your head and closes his eyes to fall asleep knowing that you'll always be there for him, next to him.

the unspoken form of love.

SIM JAEYUN ; candid moments.

jaeyun has always been fascinated about photography. he carries his camera everywhere he goes with you. even if he isn't too good, he still tries to capture every moment of you.

"beautiful" he said while going through the pictures he clicked of you from the last vacation you both had. the smile plastered on his face was something which makes him look like he's genuinely in love with you and like he was falling harder everyday —something that's actually true —

PARK SUNGHOON ; grief.

sunghoon was in the wind which felt embracing you everywhere.

looking up at the moon, the sorrowful memories were right in front of your eyes. sunghoon, your loved one was no longer with you. a tear rolled down to your cheek making you realise he left but his love, his memories never did because your heart was still his.

KIM SUNOO ; knowing your likes & dislikes.

"caramel macchiato" you both said at the same time.

"i knew you would order that.." sunoo awkwardly scratched the back of his neck when the waiter left.

having known each other for a long time does makes it make sense. he never disappoints you whenever he surprises you with gifts because he knows exactly what would make you happy. maybe he reads your mind or is it just love?

NISHIMURA RIKI ; smiling at each other.

his eyes form hearts whenever he looks at you. the fondness and love overflows through his eyes as he keeps staring at you because he finds you beautiful and just for him.

his lips curl up into a silly smile when you catch him staring at you. he shakes his head down in embarrassment of getting caught for lovingly staring at his own girlfriend and again looks up to watch you smiling at him.

crush moments with your boyfriend >>

#ꪆ୧ dollie's works #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen soft hours #enha #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft thoughts #jungwon imagines #heeseung imagines #jongseong imagines #sim jake imagines #sunghoon imagines #sunoo imagines #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #jay park #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #enhypen jay #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen masterlist #enhypen au #enhypen social media au

[wreckedandpolemic]

58 & 61 for white and gold matty when u get a chance, my beautiful friend !!!

- molly 🤍🤍🤍

(ilysm)

felt like a kiss - matty healy

(mdni) in which matty finds a new punishment for you. part of the white and gold universe. 2291 words.

warnings: daddy kink (duh), heavy degradation, mean mean dom!matty, impact play (belt), overstimulation, mild cumplay

Logically, you know that the situation you’re in right now is entirely your own fault. Nothing good ever comes out of teasing Matty, especially not when he’s already tightly-wound and ready to snap at any second. But he makes it so fun. It’s like a game to you, seeing how much you can make his jaw clench and his nostrils flare, his every movement a threat. That, and you fucking begged him to be meaner to you, stomach twisting in anticipation as anger radiates off him.

Matty doesn’t even kiss you when you get home, just grabs your jaw punishingly and forces your eyes to meet his. “Filthy slut,” he spits. “Should fuckin’ slap you for the way you behaved today.” Excitement tangles with fear under your skin. “Take your fucking clothes off, get on the bed and wait. Got it? Or are you too dumb for a simple fucking instruction?”

You pout. “No, Daddy. M’not dumb,” you say sulkily, folding your arms and scowling.

His dark laugh makes you shiver, catching some misstep you don’t even know you’ve made. “Not dumb, huh? So you chose not to fuckin’ listen to me today?” He clicks his tongue. “Oh, baby. You really wanna let yourself in for it, huh?” Your breath hitches. “Go on, on the bed and wait. Daddy’s gotta decide what to do with his dirty little slut, yeah?”

It’s phrased like a question, but the way he’s breathing hard against your mouth and glowering down at you has your knees melting into jelly. “Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, stumbling slightly when Matty shoves you away from him. A flare of sick arousal sparks to life in your gut.

The waiting is part of the torture, and you know it, wet and restless as you toss and turn on your sheets. But you have no idea how long Matty’s gonna leave you unsupervised, and you can’t help yourself as you slide a hand between your legs, arousal dripping over your fingers. You bite hard on your lower lip to swallow your moans, circling your clit and picturing Matty’s hands in place of yours. Grasping at your tit, you rock your hips up against your hand, illicit pleasure creeping in your veins.

Two fingers dip into your cunt, your legs widening and back arching as a silent gasp escapes your lips. You slide the fingers of your free hand into your mouth, keeping yourself silent as you fuck yourself, cunt pulsing with need. Quickly, you realise your fingers aren’t enough, reaching into one of your drawers for a vibrator. A burst of pleasure scatters under your skin as you press it to your clit, your eyes fluttering closed and your thighs tensing.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Matty’s voice cuts through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind, and your eyes snap open. You must look as panicked as you feel, heart hammering, because he smirks down at you. “Did I give you permission to do that?” You shake your head. “Didn’t think so. My little whore’s just begging to get punished, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, desire pulsing hard in your chest with every thud of your heart. “Been a bad girl, Daddy.” You press the vibrator insistently against your swollen nerves, moaning quietly. “Gotta punish me ‘til I’m good again.”

Matty groans, unbuckling his belt and loosening his tie, but he doesn’t undress further. He covers your hand with his and pulls the vibrator away, letting drop onto the mattress as you whine at the loss. “Don’t be fuckin’ pathetic, princess.” The nickname drips with condescension as he speaks. “Naughty girls don’t get to feel good. Now get up and bend over, okay?”

With your heart racing, you obey, slick coating your thighs as you widen your legs and brace your elbows on the bed. Nerves twist in your gut. “Daddy, I—”

“Shh, darling, it’s okay. Daddy knows what brats like you need, yeah? Can you take it if I hit you with my belt, princess?”

Fuck. You feel a gush of arousal drip from your cunt, moaning into the sheets. “Yes, Daddy. Promise I can.”

Matty pinches the flesh of your ass, the brief stab of pain spiralling sweetly through you. “God, you are such a fucking whore,” he groans like it’s a complaint, but you can hear the appreciation in his tone. “It’s not a punishment if you like it, princess.” He picks up your vibrator and retrieves a length of ribbon you usually use to tie up your hair. “Gonna keep this on you, and if you cum, s’gonna be worse for you. That okay?”

“Mhmm. Yeah. Won’t cum, promise,” you say dizzily, sinking into submission like a stone dropped in honey.

“Good little slut,” Matty coos, your entire body shuddering when he ties the vibrator against your leg, sparks shooting through you as it meets your clit. “You ready?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan, your muscles tight with anticipation as you hear Matty slide his belt into his palm. Without your permission, your hips shift down against the vibrator, chasing the steady pulse of ecstasy curling in your belly. Leather cracks against the flesh of your ass, a sound that’s half scream, half moan ripping from your chest as pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt bunches tight in your muscles.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, breath stolen from your lungs to feed the flames. The vibrator is sickly insistent against your clit, legs trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up. “God, look at you,” Matty says scornfully. “Fuckin’ dripping all over yourself from getting spanked with my belt. Shit, can’t believe I found such a perfect girl to ruin. M’so lucky, baby,” he croons, the praise perfectly soothing over the sting of cruelty.

Whimpering, you arch your back in a silent plea. Matty swipes you with the belt again, the snap of leather against skin obscenely loud in the still quiet of your room. Stinging pain blooms under your skin, an agonising throb that falls straight to your swollen, dripping cunt. You can feel the telltale tugging low in your belly, delirious with pleasure as your orgasm starts to build in every corner of your body. The third strike has tears pooling in your eyes as you fight not to cum, squirming in an attempt to knock the toy loose and away from you.

By the fourth, tears are flowing freely and the flesh of your ass is flaming, and you know you’ll be coated in pretty, purpling bruises by the morning. “You okay, princess? What’s your colour?”

“M’green, Daddy. Soo green. Feel like m’floating,” you say dreamily, hiccuping through your tears as Matty presses a flat palm against your screaming skin.

You scream when he hits you again, openly sobbing into the sheets and writhing desperately. Your nerves are alive with sensation, his hands a match and your pleasure an accelerant, setting a wildfire raging in your chest. “Cry all you want… I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this,” Matty says, cruel as the flames leap higher.

You’re dizzy, vision blurred and limbs shaking, ecstasy so hot in your belly that you’re sure you must be glowing with it. “Fuck, m’gonna cum, Daddy, oh my God!” you gasp, trembling as your arms give out and your wet face presses into the sheets.

“Hold it,” Matty orders. The pit in your stomach only grows as you buck against the confines of his impossible request. “If you cum, you’re not getting my cock, okay? I don’t fuck greedy little whores who can’t do as they’re told.”

Truly, that sounds like a worse punishment than the spanking, a helpless moan of protest escaping you as you writhe against the heat rolling through your blood. “Daddy, I can’t— I’m gonna— oh, fuck,” you cry, your orgasm ripping savagely through your body. Pleasure burns near-painfully through you, a whining scream clawing its way out of your throat. Your body crumbles, burns to ash, reforges in pure ecstasy; your mind is wiped clean as tears and drool pool below you on the mattress.

Disoriented as you come to, you moan incoherently and try to squirm away from the vibrator. “You with me, princess?”

“Daddy, it hurts,” you whine.

“Darling, do you need to safeword? It’s okay if you do, m’not gonna be mad, promise,” Matty says carefully.

You shake your head. “M’okay. Like when it hurts,” you confess, muttered through Egyptian cotton, but Matty hears you just fine, smacking your thigh with an open palm.

“Christ, but you’re a filthy fucking whore. Good girls don’t cum without permission, yeah?” You hear his zipper lowering and squirm, crying out when he slaps your thigh again. “Don’t be greedy. Told you I wasn’t gonna fuck you already.” His calloused fingers swipe through your soaked cunt, coating them in your slick, and you hear the familiar groan as he wraps his hand around his cock.

You’re practically numb, barely feeling the vibrator still on your clit as the last dregs of your awareness drift towards Matty. “Wanna watch,” you pout, frankly unsure how your legs are still supporting your weight at this point.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” Matty says, almost conversational. “You didn’t care what I wanted when I asked you to stop being a fuckin’ slut in public, did you? I wanna see your pretty ass all bruised and covered in my cum, so be a good girl and hold still, okay?”

Shuddering, you murmur an affirmative. “Can I— Can I just get on the bed properly, Daddy? Promise I’ll stay on my knees for you, s’just that my legs are hurting.”

“Yeah, go on, baby. M’not gonna hit you anymore, get comfy, okay?”

Relief floods your body and you struggle into the bed, soft cotton glorious under your knees as your aching muscles sag and relax. The movement shifts the vibrator away from your clit, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying out gratefully. “Thank you, Daddy,” you mumble, syrup in your veins as Matty moans above you. You close your eyes, soaking in the lewd sound of him pleasuring himself.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby. My pretty girl. Look so gorgeous like this, all bruised up for me. God, I love your sweet little ass,” Matty praises, still pumping his cock as you imagine him vividly. It doesn’t take long before he’s cumming with a groan, painting white over your red, tender skin. “Shit, looks so gorgeous, my darling. Made you all mine.”

“Was already all yours,” you say instinctively, twisting your neck to look up at him. “Can I see?”

Matty smirks. “Yeah, darling, hold on.” You hear the shutter sound of his camera as you slowly slump until you’re lying prone, bone-deep exhausted.

The picture is obscene, ropes of cum dripping over angry, crimson skin, your cunt sopping. “I look pretty,” you murmur. “Are you gonna get off looking at that, Daddy?”

“God, every fuckin’ chance I get, princess.” Even though you know he gets himself off thinking about you, the reminder that you’re the star of his fantasies always turns you on beyond belief. “My perfect girl. Did so well, darling, took it so fucking well. Couldn’t ask for a better, sweeter, more gorgeous girl to ruin like this.” You glow at the praise, finding yourself unable to move even an inch without your muscles screaming in protest.

Somehow, Matty senses that without having to be told, carefully lifting you onto the pillows, avoiding your sore skin. “Love you,” you mumble.

“I fucking adore you, my girl. I love you so fucking much. Are you feeling alright? That was a rough one.”

You giggle. “That’s one word for it,” you say, making grabby hands at Matty until he lays next to you, the comforting heat of him soaking into your skin. “M’okay. Hurts, though. Want the princess treatment ‘til I’m healed.”

Huffing a laugh, Matty combs his fingers gently through your tangled hair. “Of course, princess. Nothing less. Do you need anything?”

“Some water would be nice. Then cuddles. M’sleepy.” You whine when Matty gets up, the loss of him like a physical sting. Your lower lip trembles in the brief minutes you’re alone, slowly sinking into the familiar guilt that comes after nights like these.

“Oh, darling,” Matty murmurs, finding you sniffling quietly into your pillow. “It’s okay, m’here. Not goin’ anywhere, promise.” He sets a glass of water thankfully within reach on your nightstand, crooning soothingly down at you. “Just gotta get you cleaned up, okay?” Nodding warily, you close your eyes as he runs a cool cloth over your ass. “I know, princess, I know it hurts,” he coos when you whimper softly, stinging pain shooting up your spine. “I’m sorry, darling. Just a little more, being such a good girl. My sweet girl. There, all done.” He runs his hand over the loose, liquidy muscles of your back. “You comfy, princess?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, voice thick with sleep.

Matty slides a pillow under your hips, and the shift in angle lets you rest more comfortably against the pillows, eyelids drooping as you gaze adoringly at him. “Can’t fall asleep on me yet, angel. Gotta make sure you’re feeling good first.”

He doesn’t let you go to sleep until you’ve talked through the whole night, kissing you reverently and murmuring reassurances exactly when you need them. You sleep through the whole morning, awoken by the smell of coffee and a soft kiss to your forehead. “Hi,” you grin, staring up into the face of the love of your life, and despite the ache in your muscles and the bruising on your ass screaming out in protest, you can’t think of a time you’ve been happier.

#molly!!! i love u!!!! #i hope u enjoy mwah #jesus this is filthy like this may be the most depraved thing i’ve written #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #smut prompt fills #writing #smut #requests

[bravo4iscool]

(not proof-read!)

My father never talked a lot

He just took a walk around the block

'Til all his anger took a hold of him

And then he'd hit

simon flexed his fingers, his knee bouncing up and down. he needed to calm down, he wanted to calm down. he thought about leaving the house for a few moments to not run into your or the kids but he quickly crossed this off his list.

no, he would stay here and work through his anger instead of fleeting it. he would actually try to solve it before finding his escape at the shooting range.

he wasn’t like his old man. he would never be.

My mother never cried a lot

She took the punches, but she never fought

'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids"

So she did

simon didn’t like to see you cry. no matter if he was the reason or not. he despised it. seeing tears streaming down your face made him feel like his world was falling apart; because it was. you were his world. you and your kids.

and never in a million years simon would lay his hands on you or your kids. he would rather shoot himself.

sometimes—when it seemed like he couldn’t calm himself down—he thought about what would happen if you would walk away from him. it made him realize what he would lose if he wouldn’t be able to keep himself in check.

seeing you walk away from him—with the kids—in front of his inner eye gave him a certain calmness. it made him still and think about why he was angry and if it really was necessary that he was angry.

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry I can run, but

I can't hide

From my family line

simon didn’t know how many mirrors have suffered the force of his fist already. sometimes it was at night when his tried self was looking back at him through the mirror, sometimes it was during the day when the anger took a hold on him and he thought his father was staring at him, mocking him.

when ever he looked at the mirror too long he saw his reflection shifting into a picture of the bastard who had the audacity to call himself his dad. and simon would grip the sink, of even afraid of breaking it with the force of his grip.

and in moments—when you weren’t able to get him in time—his fist would collide with the mirror. but when he looked at the scattered pieces on the floor, he didn’t see his father anymore. no. he saw him. he saw tommy.

afterwards he would sit in silence as you whisper soothing words while patching up his hands with careful, loving and gentle hands.

“you’re not him,” you would tell him, before you kiss his forehead and keep him close.

It's hard to put it into words

How the holidays will always hurt

I watch the fathers with their little girls

And wonder what I did to deserve this

How could you hurt a little kid?

I can't forget, I can't forgive you

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me

when simon held his first child in his arms he was afraid. he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to live up to the role as a father. he was afraid he would fail. not only his child but also you.

he could still remember the days he spend crying in the backyard as a kid because it seemed like everyone had a loving father but him. everyone’s life was good and fun except his.

he would watch his friends play with their parents from afar and he would pray and beg that his father would change, even tho he knew he never would.

simon never understood why he needed to take blow after blow, punch after punch, burn after burn but he did. he never understood why his father didn’t love him. he never understood how anyone could love him.

because his mother loved him and she left. tommy loved him and he left. tommy’s wife loved him and she left.

everyone who ever loved him left.

except you. you had stayed. you didn’t go anywhere. and he was keen on keeping it that way.

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it

All of my pain and all your excuses

I was a kid but I wasn't clueless

(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)

All of my past, I tried to erase it

But now I see, would I even change it?

Might share a face and share a last name, but

(We are not the same)

simon went to therapy. he tried at least. he never lasted more than two sessions, maybe three. he felt like it didn’t help him. he felt like he was shutting himself down even more after ach session.

every therapist had tried to work through what his father did and why he did it but nobody understood that simon knew why his father did what he did. no one understood that simon was aware of what his father did.

he tried to erase it, tried to forget about it but he couldn’t. it was chasing him down, finding every single hideout he so carefully constructed for himself. he couldn’t escape who he was and what he’s been through.

but you, you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about who he was and what had happened to him. you loved him for who he was now and what he was doing now. and you made sure to tell him that.

“you might be a riley but a name doesn’t carry what you might think it does.” that’s what you told him when he finally opened up about his fears about ending up like his father. “you carry your fathers dna, yes but you also carry your mothers and your mother was a lovely woman from what you told me.”

you would pull him into your arms while sitting on the couch, your hand gently playing with his hair. “you decide who you are and who you want to be. not your name and not your dna. you won’t be like your father if you don’t want to be like him. and i know you don’t.”

simon cried whenever you told him that. he would cry into your chest, seeking all the comfort he could. “you share the same name but you’re not the same,” you whisperd into his ear as you pulled him closer to you, your arms tightening around him.

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

tag list - @bumblebeesfromvenus @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader

[spotsandsocks]

The Last of the Tea is Gone

This started life as a title prompt from ask game sent to me by @madambeetrootn who I can not tag sadly. They liked it, I liked it so I’ve spruced it up and here it is for a bit of light fluff before 7x10 breaks our heart.

If there’s one thing that Eddie does not like it’s doing the grocery shop, regardless of his feelings though he’ll do a good job, a thorough job and that means making a list. So it’s time to look through the cupboards and check what they need.

The second cupboard door he opens generates a frustrated growl. Reaching up with clenched teeth, he shakes his head, how many times does he have to tell him? Again! This is sadly not the first time he’s found an empty box of teabags sitting on the shelf.

It’s Buck’s tea, the one that he drinks whenever he’s round. Disgusting stuff but for some reason he loves it.

Sighing the sigh of the long suffering Eddie grabs hold of the offending cardboard, why can’t that man ever put an empty box or bottle in the recycling. It’s not that hard. Eddie manages it every day. Even Chris half the time but Buck not so much.

The moment freezes as Eddie looks at his hand holding the vanished tea and a thought blazes through his mind bright and intense and overwhelming.

Buck keeps his tea here, the thought shifts and changes, no …he keeps Buck’s tea here, for him. He remembers buying the last box clearly. Buck wasn’t even with him that day, he was grocery shopping on his own, and why is Buck even with him sometimes when he does the grocery shopping anyway?

After that question others flood his mind.

Why does he buy Buck’s tea? Why does it run out so often?

What does it mean?

He knows, oh god he knows… finally he sees it.

Eddie stays frozen to the spot, staring at the small cardboard cartoon that’s caused him to have an existential crisis in his own kitchen.

Footsteps and a voice finally shake him.

“What’s wrong?” Buck sounds worried. Eddie supposes he probably does make an unusual picture right now. Staring at an empty box. He looks up and finds blue eyes and a frown close by.

“The last of the tea is gone.”

Perfectly clear from his point of view but not so much from Buck’s

“The last of the tea is gone?,” The sentence is repeated with concern and a deepening frown. “And that’s …. a bad thing? You don’t even drink my tea, why are you so upset about it?”

“It doesn’t last very long.”

Another random comment from Eddie at least as far as Buck is concerned but the words mean everything to Eddie.

Buck steps closer, a hand tentatively reaching out to support his best friend through his unexpectedly complicated feelings about tea. He speaks slowly.

“No… that’s ‘cos I drink it. That’s what you do with tea…Eddie are you ok.?”

He’s a man of action always had been so now he knows, well there’s really no option but to do something with the information. He answers his best friend, the man who’s ended up so much more important to him than he could ever have imagined on the day they met. The man he buys tea for and the man who drinks it in his home so often it barely lasts.

“Not really.” Eddie looks at Buck and wonders if he can see what’s coming. “Well maybe …I guess it depends on if you’re in love with me because I just worked out I’m in love with you.”

Buck laughs, a brief surprised bark of humor and then his grin lights up the kitchen.

“Really? That’s what finally did it? An empty box of tea?

Eddie smiles back, how could he not when he has this.

“Apparently. So… are you?”

Eddie doesn’t get an answer but he does get a kiss and that kiss tastes like Buck’s stupid tea, which is isn’t so bad after all.

Maybe he’ll get two boxes next time.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie ficlet #911 fic #911fic #fluff #no time to tag #be back to do that later #title prompt game #buddie fic

[ehh-balance]

Riz heard Fabian laughing in the living room from his place at the kitchen counter filling tortilla’s with shredded cheese. Adaine and Gorgug started yelling about something else, and Fig and Ayda had been off together somewhere else the rest of the night so far. This was his chance to talk to Kristen. To apologize to Kristen.

She was currently crouched in front of the oven, rapidly pressing the down arrow to get the temperature as low as possible. Riz wiped the sweat and cheese off of his hands onto his pants and tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. He knew he was in the wrong, and he felt guilty about it. So why was acknowledging it out loud so hard?

“Um… Kristen?” Riz cringed as he said her name, hearing how it came out like a question. He nervously hopped off the counter, landing on the floor lightly.

“Don’t worry, I know how to make quesadillas. I’m gonna put them in the oven to keep them warm until they’re all done cooking,” Kristen said, standing up from hovering down by the oven. She flapped a hand over her shoulder at him as she spoke as if to dismiss him.

“No, that’s not- I just- I’m sorry,” Riz blurted out, fumbling the words. Oh boy, he should have prepared what to say. Why was he just winging this?

“Don’t be sorry dude. You can’t read my mind, how’re you supposed to know I wasn’t just gonna put these bad babies in here to cook.” Riz could hear the confusion in her voice and pictured the pinch in her brow that was surely there. He wished she would turn around so he could see her face to get a better read of the whole conversation.

“No, Kristen, I meant-“

“Oh! Yeah, you can go hang with the others while I bang this out-“

“No!” Riz immediately heard the annoyance in his tone and swallowed. Not a great start here, Gugak. He mumbled an apology for snapping. “I meant. For everything this year. I’m sorry.”

When Kristen turned to look at him, Riz suddenly wished she would turn back around. The furrow was there between her eyebrows, but her gaze was piercing, as if trying to read Riz’s mind. Riz wiped his sweaty hands on his pants again.

“What do you mean?”

“Just. I put a lot of pressure on you and Fig this year with school stuff. If you guys didn’t want to go to classes, I shouldn’t have made you. It wasn’t fair of me to make that choice for you.” Riz couldn’t meet her eyes and looked instead at her freckled shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to being self conscious about his friends all going off after high school and doing other things without him. What if the only thing keeping their friend group together was adventuring? What if the only thing that kept them all in Riz’s life was that he was a good adventurer?

Why do you think your friends keep you around, Riz Gugak? Are you just a funny little thing that finds the clues?

Baron’s words rang out in Riz’s head. He squeezed his eyes shut tight for a second, face screwed up. Focus. Kristen hadn’t said anything yet, so Riz continued.

“I didn’t mean to make you do anything you didn’t want to do. I’m sorry for pressuring you.” He finally looked back up at her face. She had a soft smile, looking slightly confused. Riz tilted his head, also confused. Shouldn’t she be angry?

“Riz, man. I’ve got ADHD. The hardest part about school is doing the work outside of classes. You helped me, by always being there to make sure I was doing my essays.” She crouched back down, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I really appreciate your help this year man. I know it was super stressful for you too.”

Riz felt his ears droop down. The reassurance was nice, but Riz felt undeserving of it. “You wouldn’t have had to do the work if I wasn’t pressuring you to do it. School isn’t everything, at least not for everyone. It was important to me, so I made it important to you, without giving you a choice. I’m sorry.”

“Riz, I like school. It’s just hard to stay focused on work by myself. I would have told you if I didn’t want to do it, or if you were pressuring me. And hey man. If something is important to you, it’s important to me. We’re friends.” Kristen shook his shoulder a little, still smiling at him.

She must have seen something on his face, his guilt still written plainly there, because she frowned at him. “What’s wrong man?”

Riz just shook his head, suddenly feeling choked up. He should just tell her, explain that he was nervous about staying friends after school. How he was scared about the not knowing the future. Feeling doubtful that they would all stay close friends.

Doubt was kinda Kristen’s thing, after all.

“I guess I just got caught up in figuring out something for us to do after high school. Together. And I managed to decide everyone’s future for them because I was too scared that we would all separate otherwise.” Saying it out loud made Riz sound so selfish. He had been selfish. But he was apologizing and learning and he would try not to do it again.

Riz startled slightly when Kristen pulled him in for a hug, but quickly wrapped his arms around her.

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself.“ She pulled back from the hug and punched him in the shoulder. Ow, Riz assumed she still forgot how buff she got over the summer.

“And hey. Who knows what the future is gonna look like for all of us. But I’ll tell you one thing. I’ll be there, by your side. I promise. Our friendship isn’t defined just by school,” Kristen said. As she spoke, Riz felt a cool, night breeze blow by, though no windows were open in the kitchen. He smiled back at her, starting to feel better.

“Kristen! The Ball! How long do quesadillas take?” Fabian yelled from the other room, breaking the peace that had settled over Riz and Kristen.

Kristen shot up, turning to the stove as she moved. “Oh shit, how many do you think we can fit in one pan?” She had already stuffed four onto the pan, the tortillas crumpled and overlapping. “Maybe we should just put them in the oven?”

Riz snorted, jumping back up on the counter. “We’ll be fine. Just get another pan out, I’ll help you.”

Kristen paused for a second, turning to smile knowingly at him. “We are gonna be fine, Riz. Promise.” She nudged him gently with her elbow and got another pan for him. And together, they made quesadillas for their friends.

#listen #i wanted to expand on riz feeling like he needed to apologize to kristen and fig #writing #riz gukgak #kristen applebees #tbk #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 fhjy #dimension 20 #fantasy high fic

[weaveandwood]

Writing Prompt - Gale hosts a camp cookout! Everyone has to bring something to the party. Ora gets very flustered watching him cooking, and one thing leads to another...

Anything for you my love! I wanted to have this done closer to the holiday on Monday but here we are.

NSFW Words: 1982 CN: Oral Sex Watching Gale cook was one of Ora’s favorite pastimes. The sharp focus he got when he was doing something he loved was so attractive. From the very beginning of their journey together she had found her eye drawn to him, but especially so when he was cooking - something about the way his forearm muscles flexed, the furrow of his brows, the precision in his cuts. Someone that exacting with food would surely be as exacting in other areas of their lives, a fact Ora found out first hand almost a tenday ago, when he confessed he loved her and proved his diligence to her pleasure almost every day since. His attention to detail, whether it was spell casting, cooking, or remembering the exact amount of freckles that were sprinkled across her hipbone was one of the traits about Gale she loved the most. 

Now, with Ketheric Thorm out of the picture and Gale very obviously not blown up, he had suggested a celebration dinner where everyone would bring their own dish to the courtyard at the Last Light Inn and contribute to the meal before the party left on the road to Baldur’s Gate with the sunrise the next morning. Not one to relinquish complete control of the meal, he offered to cook the main dish, and claimed his usual prep spot in their campsite, leaving the others to find somewhere else to work on their contributions. Auroria walked up to Gale holding a loaf of bread that she managed to talk Jaheira out of.

“The best hunter in our party shows up with a loaf of bread?” He teased. “No matter, it will go perfectly with what I have planned,” he smiled and kissed her cheek as she pulled over a stool to keep him company while he cooked.

“I’ll have you know it took plenty of effort to get Jaheira to give up this loaf of bread. I’m positive the only reason she did was because we took out Ketheric. She also gave me this,” she smiled as she held up a bottle of wine, one of the better bottles housed in the basement of the Last Light Inn.

“Another thank you gift?” Gale asked, taking the bottle and looking at the label. “I’ve had this before, this is an excellent wine. Almost too good to be enjoyed at a party, better to be shared in more intimate surrounds,” he lowered his voice and winked - winked! -  as he put the bottle under the table, obvious in his intention to take it back to his tent to drink alone with Ora later that night. After they finished whatever battle, scouting mission, or strategy session they had for the day, she loved spending wine-drunk evenings with him while he read to her, his warm voice making even the most academic of passages sound downright sinful, often leading to other sinful acts before the night was over.

As he resumed his culinary work, the rhythmic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board took Auroria back to the thumping of the bed against the wall the previous night, when the two of them managed to secure one of the rare private quarters at the inn - the first thank you gift from Jaheira after defeating Ketheric and restoring Reithwin, breaking the Shadow Curse. After so many nights spent together in bedrolls on the hard ground, sharing a bed, a real bed, was revelatory. They had chased their first releases that night quickly, desperately, a confirmation of their survival, of defying the gods. A fire burned within her as she watched his elegant hands curve around the knife handle much in the same way they curved around the back of her neck whenever he kissed her deeply. 

Why did he have to push his sleeves up like that? It was maddening how she couldn’t draw her gaze away from them or the tendons working in his hands as he grabbed a tomato. The way his hair fell forward into his face as he leaned over, slicing it - each slice precisely the same thickness. The way he bit his lip as he looked for the next ingredient needed. Was she standing too close to the fire? It was suddenly very hot in this area of the camp. 

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He asked, catching her staring at him. 

“Nothing appropriate,” she smiled. “Have you ever been told just how attractive you are when you cook?” 

He chuckled, slicing an onion now. “Well, considering how my last relationship before you was with a goddess who didn’t require food, and then I was a hermit for over a year…no, no one has ever told me that.” 

She stood up, brushing a strand of hair out of his face before leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Well, let me be the one to tell you that every time I watch you cook, I want to peel all your clothes off right then and there and give you as much attention as you give these vegetables.” She planted a kiss on his neck, knowing it drove him wild, confirmation coming in the form of a low groan. “And since we are the only two people in the camp right now, we should take advantage of it,” she said as she nipped his earlobe. 

He set the knife down, kissing her. “As much as I want to take you to my tent and give you every attention, there’s still some prep to do before we are supposed to reconvene at the Last Light Inn, my love. I promise to leave you doubly satisfied before you sleep tonight.” 

“You always do, and I will hold you to that,” she laughed. “But I said I wanted to give you all the attention, remember?” She kissed him again and pressed her body against his, feeling his growing desire for her. She reached between them, her hand rubbing his growing erection through his pants. 

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers. She felt him gasp against her as she reached inside his waistband, under his undergarments and felt him, growing harder as her fingertips brushed over him. 

He broke the kiss and looked at her, a hint of nervousness on his face. “Out here, Ora? What if someone comes back to camp?” 

She kissed his neck again, smiling against it. “You are Gale of Waterdeep, I have utter faith that you would figure something out,” she smiled as she unbuttoned the front of his pants and loosened the laces on his briefs, enough to keep him covered but grant his hardness enough freedom for her to wrap her hand around it. His sharp intake of breath encouraged her and she started slowly stroking him, feeling him grow even harder in her hand. “I would have you right here, but I know you value privacy, and your tent is just over there,” she whispered. “Maybe you can take just a short break?”

“Gods, Ora, you will be the death of me. But I will die a happy man.” He kissed her and took her hand, putting aside his current duty and leading her to his tent, lowering the flap behind them. 

He put his hands on her hips and kissed her deeply. Her hands wrapped around his back, pulling them closer together. He reached between them for the bottom of her shirt, his hands running under the hem, against the soft skin of her stomach.

“Take it off,” he whispered. 

Auroria nodded, pulling off her shirt, leaving her in only her bralette, much to Gale’s dismay. When they stole time together at the end of the day she never wore anything under her shirts. He ran his fingers along the edge of the embroidered fabric, dipping just barely inside it to feel the even softer skin of her breast. His other hand drifted down, rubbing her over the fabric of her leggings. A soft moan escaped her lips. 

“Gale, I’m supposed to be giving you the attention, remember?” She laughed, her knees almost buckling from the friction between her legs and the way he was looking at her, a man starving. Like he hadn’t feasted from her the night previous, like they hadn’t spent the morning in each others arms, bringing each other into relaxed bliss as the sun rose. She reached between them, unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. Gods, she thought, admiring his chest, running her hands over it. 

“You’re so perfect,” she whispered, kissing down his neck, over the orb marking, down his chest. “Now, take off your pants, my love.” She smiled as he gladly acquiesced, standing naked before her as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him. She looked up at him as she wrapped her hand around him again, hearing him gasp as she stroked, his fingertips resting on her shoulders for balance. 

“Let me touch you,” he whispered. It was still difficult for him to accept receiving pleasure with no expectation of anything in return, no matter how many times she told him she enjoyed it as much as he did. She looked up at him, making eye contact as she flattened her tongue, licking the length of his hardness before taking just the tip in her mouth. 

She thought he might fall over. His eyes darkened with lust and he moaned loudly. His hands went to her hair, tangling in it as she took him farther into his mouth, sucking softly. One of her hands traced up his thigh, feeling the muscles underneath his gorgeous skin before settling on his hip. 

“That feels so good,” he said, watching her intently, his hips starting to rock in tandem with her hand and mouth, making her take him deeper. She hummed against him, loving the feeling of him against her tongue. She stroked him from base to tip, her mouth following, drawing new and louder sounds out of him. She was suddenly glad they were the only ones at camp - she loved when he let himself get lost in pleasure. His hips rocked faster, urging her to suck harder, faster, deeper. His hands were on her head, guiding her as he set the pace. 

She could feel his body stiffen, his breathing become more labored as he neared the edge of his release. She moaned against him, looking up and catching his eyes as the vibrations went through him. He looked down at her. He looked so undone, she had such power over him in this moment. 

“I’m going to…I’m almost…” he whispered. He maintained eye contact with her as he gave two more quick thrusts with his hips, crying out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over him, sending him over the edge. Auroria felt him pulse and throb in her mouth as his release coated her tongue before she swallowed it. 

“Gods, I love you,” he said, smiling as he reached down and stroked her face before helping her stand up.

She kissed him deeply. “I love you too. Thanks for letting me distract you for a moment,” she smiled as he pressed his forehead against hers. “We should probably get back out there and finish up. I’ll even help.”

“Ora, I’m not sure that’s the boon you think it is,” he laughed, remembering the last time she helped him unsuccessfully. 

She smiled and narrowed her eyes at him. “Get your clothes on wizard, and I’ll see you at the inn, then. And don’t think I won’t hold you to your promise of making sure I’m doubly satisfied tonight!” She laughed as she walked out of the tent. 

He smiled and shook his head as he reached for his discarded clothes. Gods, he was glad he didn’t blow himself up.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #my writing #woodweave #gale x auroria

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hey there! I know I know, I just asked you for a request*, but this idea hits so hart today >.< My request number two: Reaction of Students and Professors if - how in Merlins name could this happen?! - some photographs from MC as a baby/toddler/child circulate around Hogwarts....some really cute and really embarrassing pictures from their first years. Awww! I would love it, I'm giggling alone in my dark room at the moment... Your blog is beautiful and I hope so is your evening! *I still request it, but just if you like^^

A/N: this is hilarious! Lmao

HLC REACT TO MC'S BABY PICTURES

A spell mishap and Peeves interference had MC frantically running all over Hogwarts trying to collect the photos but they just kept multiplying and flying away.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He entirely entertained watching MC run around like a chicken with its head cut off to collect all the photos. He doesn't really understand what they're freaking out about anyway, they're cute pictures. Especially the one where MC wears a pair of trousers on their head.

OMINIS GAUNT: To him the whole thing sounds like someone left a door open and a bunch of leaves were blowing around inside. It's only through the surrounding students that he determines that they were photographs of an embarrassing nature. Heh, He's glad it's not him.

ANNE SALLOW: She stows one away. One of MC proudly holding a bored looking cat like a teddy bear. It was too cute to let it fly away. She'll give it back eventually.

IMELDA REYES: She laughs at MC expense and walks away. This is their problem to solve, she has flying to do.

NATSAI ONAI: She's running around with MC trying to collect the photos. She can't help but stop every once in awhile to admire a good one, though. MC was a really cute baby.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He was eating lunch when one smacks him in the face. He looks at it, chuckles and then goes back to eating. He holds it up for MC to snatch when they come barreling through the Great Hall.

LEANDER PREWETT: He casually goes through the photos that fly to him and he admires them. Not just how cute and funny some of them were but seeing where and how MC grew up. Photos tell a story and he was very interested in it.

AMIT THAKKAR: He tries to help with summoning spells. He collects a few at a time but the photos are multiplying faster than they can catch. They're jinxed!

EVERETT CLOPTON: He's sneaking away from the situation. He was practicing the duplication jinx and accidentally hit MC's photo album. He doesn't even remember why they had it with them. Just that Peeves showed up after the photos burst from the book.

POPPY SWEETING: She just watches the chaos. She's sure jobberknolls hopped up on accelerant potion would be easy to collect. She does see a few photos that settle near her. MC eating cereal out of an expensive looking vase is her favorite.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: "Peeves! Stop this at once!" Peeves drops the pile of duplicating photos and flies off with a cackle. He nullified the jinx and helped MC clean up. He sees a few photos and smiles to himself. He'd have to ask if he could see them proper some day.

MATILDA WEASLEY: "Aresto Momentum!" With a powerful wave a magic, all the photos stopped dead in their tracks. She looks at MC with slight disappointment. One spell could have fixed all this instead of panicking. "Clean up this mess, I'll handle Peeves." She storms after the poltergeist.

CHIYO KOGAWA: "Well, that's unfortunate." She finds one photo of MC drinking water from a puddle next to the family dog. "Kids..." She chuckles and hands the photo to MC when they run past.

AESOP SHARP: He's mid sip of morning tea when he walks in on the situation. Peeves has done worse. He turns around and walks away from the pandemonium.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He laughs as he joins MC in the chase. "This is fun!" He exclaims like it's just one big game. He will adore MC's pictures, they'll have a hard time getting them away from him without explaining them.

MIRABEL GARLICK: "Peeves! You absolute scoundrel! Stop tormenting the students!" She shoos away the poltergeist and helps MC collect the photos and cancel the jinx. She checks if MC is actually alright. These photos may be embarrassing but they are more than that. They're precious memories.

MUDIWA ONAI: With a wave of her hand, all the photos come to her. She gives Peeves a stern look, which he returns with a loud raspberry, and she hands the photos back to MC. "You should be more careful with these. They may be embarrassing moments now but they are wonderful memories to hold on to. Would you like to see Natty's?" She chuckles.

DINAH HECAT: She sighs and wordlessly waves her wand at Peeves. He stops, drops the photos, and dives through the floor in hast. No one knows what she did but she is one of the few people at Hogwarts Peeves is actually afraid of.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He watches Peeves fly by. He sinks through the floor to the dungeons and finds the Bloody Baron. "He's at it again." The Baron zooms off to do unspeakable things to Peeves.

SATYAVATI SHAH: She quietly collects a few photos after Peeves had his fun and gives them back to MC without a word.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: He's just annoyed by the interruption of his day. The poltergeist, the students, they're all so annoying.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Reckoner: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical." - Blaise Pascal

"How is your knee feeling?" you ask Spencer when you walk out of the elevator.

"Still hurts, but the brace you have around it is helping. I'm not moving it too much."

"I might not be a doctor in medicine but I know a thing or two."

You two walk into the bullpen where the rest of the team is. Derek, Emily, and Penelope are huddled around JJ who is showing them pictures on her phone.

"What are you guys looking at?" you ask and set your things on your desk.

"Pictures of Henry."

"My Godson? Let me see!" You and Spencer head over to her and admire the pictures of her son. "Look at his chubby cheeks. He's so cute. You guys are still bringing him over this weekend, right?"

"Yes. Will and I are very excited to go out of town."

"Well, don't worry. Spencer might be crippled but we can take care of him," you joke.

"Hey!"

You look up and see Hotch and Rossi in Hotch's office with an agent sent from the Witness Protection Program. Everyone knows it's Jack's birthday so it's especially hard on Hotch right now. The agent leaves promptly, leaving both older men to talk alone.

"How he is doing?" you ask and nod to your boss.

"How do you think?" Derek sighs. "That agent came by earlier to show him a video of Jack. It sucks but that's about as much as Hotch is gonna get for it."

"We're gonna catch Foyet before something bad happens," you promise.

"We should get to the briefing room," JJ announces and puts her phone away.

You're about to follow everyone when you see several Virginia police officers walk into the bullpen.

"Excuse me, where can I find SSA Y/N?"

"Right here. What can I do for you?" you ask and step forward.

"You're under arrest for the murders of Juan Lopez, John Dimateo, Chase Williams, Eric Price, Jeffrey--"

As the officer is speaking, he turns you around and handcuffs your wrists behind your back. Your gun and badge are still on your person which he also removes. He says two more names which makes a total of seven people he thinks you're responsible for. The entire bullpen is in chaos as Spencer and JJ protest against your involvement, Penelope is just confused and asking why, and Derek immediately gets Hotch and Rossi involved.

"Hotch! Rossi!" Derek yells.

Hotch looks through the window and sees you in handcuffs. He and Rossi are out of their seats and out of the office in record time.

"Excuse me, what is going on?"

"Who are you?" the officer who handcuffed you asks.

"I'm her superior. What is going on here?"

"She's being arrested for the murders of seven men."

"Hotch! I didn't do it!" you say but they're already pulling you away.

"Wait, where are you taking her?"

"Virginia Police Department for questioning."

"Hotch! Spencer!" you say as they practically drag you away.

For five seconds, no one can say anything. No one can believe what they just witnessed. You? Murder? You dedicate your life to helping others, not to end their lives. You've had so many bad things happen to you and by doing good, you think you're making up for the bad. Why would you go out and murder seven people? When would you have the time to? If you're not at work, you're at home with Spencer.

After those shocking five seconds, all hell breaks loose. Everyone starts talking over each other. What is going on? Who are these victims? There has to be some kind of mistake. Y/N would never murder anyone. They've got the wrong woman. Even people who are not on the team start whispering to each other.

"Everyone calm down," Hotch says loudly. He turns to Rossi who is trying to keep a confident face on. "Take the team with you to Long Island." He addresses the team. "Listen, I'm going to go down there and figure out what's going on. In the meantime, there is still a case going on that needs our attention. JJ and Rossi will brief you on the case. When I'm done, I'll fly up there on my own."

"Let me go with you," Spencer says.

"Spencer, I know how hard it is for you right now, but I need you with the team. I'm going to take care of it."

Everyone hates that they can't be there for you right now but they understand where Hotch is coming from. When Hotch was released from the hospital, they all wanted to take care of him but stayed with the team and worked on other cases. However, Hotch was bedridden. You're in fucking jail.

After Hotch leaves and the rest of the team is getting ready to fly to New York, Spencer is still stuck in his spot. He can't seem to move from it because all he is thinking about is you. He wants to cry. He wants to break down at the thought of you being all alone in that interrogation room. Derek does a double take and walks over to Spencer.

"She's going to be okay, man. They have the wrong person. We both know this."

Spencer has to believe this otherwise he doesn't know what he is going to do. Everyone piles into the briefing room but it's like they are zombies. No one knows how to act because your chair is empty. Spencer won't be able to concentrate on a word JJ says much less anyone else, but she begins the briefing.

"Last night, Ben Vanderwaal was killed in Commack, Long Island. He was shot at close range once in the heart, once in the head with a .22 caliber. They found hair and blood trances from Ben's wife, Heather."

"Not Heather?" Rossi asks.

"No, she's still missing and presumed dead. The caliber and placement of the bullets match that of two previous victims. The first is Rita Haslat. Eight months ago, she went missing from her home in New Jersey. Four weeks later, she was found in a trash bin."

JJ puts pictures of what Rita looked like before and after being found.

"She went from that to this in under three weeks? She's totally emaciated," Emily says.

"Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles indicate she was constrained." Derek looks over at Spencer to see him staring at the desk. "One in the heart, one in the head like Ben."

"It sounds more like an execution," Rossi says. "What about the third victim?"

"His name is Bill Levington. His appearance was certainly altered."

JJ allows the others to read about what happened to Bill. There's no way she's going to put those pictures on the screen. Spencer grabs the file and flips through it but he's not really reading it. He's only doing this so he doesn't get in trouble for not paying attention.

"His genitals are missing. Though the method of mutilation is different in each crime, there is clearly a signature. The question is, what?"

"In Ben's case, his hands were taken. Bill's genitals were taken. Rita was completely different. She was starved, tortured, and executed. There's no sign of postmortem mutilation," JJ says.

"Why would he take Heather and not simply kill her?"

"Maybe he hasn't and she's still alive," Derek says.

"The only thing concrete is the MO which depicts an efficient no-nonsense murder. We need to figure out what each act of mutilation means to the unsub or to the victim. Wheels up in twenty," Rossi announces.

He gets up, takes out a file from his inner jacket pocket, and places it in front of Spencer. The noise of the paper slapping the desk is enough to break Spencer out of his trance. He looks at the file and then up at Rossi.

"What's this?"

"You told us you were cleared to fly. You lied."

"Naughty boy," Emily chuckles.

"No, I didn't. I am a doctor, so technically, it wasn't a lie," Spencer stutters.

"What was it, then?" Penelope asks.

"Second opinion."

"You're my bitch now," she smiles and walks out of the briefing room. Everyone else walks out leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. He allows his tears to fall now that he's alone. Penelope pauses when she hears him sniffle so she backtracks into the room. "Spence..."

"I'm fine," he sniffles and wipes his eyes.

"No, you're not. We're all not fine. She's going to be okay. Hotch is going to get her out of this."

"Yeah, I know," he whispers.

Hotch arrives at the Virginia Police Department sooner than he thought. He won't let you go down for something you never did. He's known you for around five years. He knows the kind of person you are, especially when you tackled him away from a car bomb and stayed by his side when he was stabbed by Foyet. He's not going to let anything happen to you.

The police department must know he was coming because they are on his ass as soon as he walks through the front door.

"You can't be here. You have no authority. This case isn't Federal," the arresting officer says.

"Like hell, I can't. I am her boss. She has rights."

"Which have been read to her. She hasn't lawyered up."

"There is a big misunderstanding here--"

"There is no misunderstanding. Y/N committed these crimes and didn't try to hide it very well."

"With what evidence?"

"Oh, we got a buttload of evidence and it all points to her. Sorry, but you're not on the case. I can't release that kind of information."

"I need to see her. I have a right to talk to her as her superior and as a lawyer."

The officer knows he's not going to win this argument so he decides to let it become his supervisor's problem.

"Be my guest."

The officer leads Hotch to where you are. They took you to one of the interrogation rooms as soon as you arrived, and you've been sitting here with an incompetent officer asking you questions. You're handcuffed to the desk even though you've shown no signs of being violent. You've complied with all of their rules but you haven't said a word to them. You know how interrogations work. You know how someone can incriminate themselves just by talking. You're going to let them get all their questions out before lawyering up.

"Care to explain to us why we found your DNA on all seven men?" No answer. "All seven men were murdered with different weapons that we traced back to your apartment. Your possession. Care to explain?" No answer. "My question is how did you manage to murder seven very fit and strong men that brutally? You're an FBI agent. You must know how to cover your tracks, no?"

"I want my lawyer."

The officer sighs and closes the file they have on you. He can't ask any more questions until your lawyer arrives. He chooses to leave the file there and exits the interrogation room. You immediately grab the file and look through it to see what they have. All seven men were brutally murdered like he said, but you didn't think it would be this bad. You're a strong woman but not strong enough to do this kind of damage.

Each man was killed with a different murder weapon--all that you recognize. They're items from your and Spencer's apartment. A kitchen knife that JJ gave you as a set for you moving into Spencer's apartment, a worn-down hammer you got from your parent's house to put up more shelves, one of your heels that Spencer got you as a present just because he loves you, the fire extinguisher you keep underneath the sink, the iron you keep in the bathroom, one of your phone chargers, and a box of Spencer's matches.

All of these items can come back to you since you're the one who bought them all besides the heels. Who are these men? Who actually killed them? They were all killed in close proximity to your home and work, so whoever killed them must be local to the area. Why frame you for the murders? What does this person or people get for framing you? There are a whole lot of questions that the police aren't asking.

It seems like all they see is murders, some DNA that belongs to you, so you must be the killer without asking the important questions. The door opens and you quickly close the file and return it to the spot in which you found it. You go back to the stoic look on your face but that drops when you see Hotch at the door.

"Hotch!" He closes the door to give you two some privacy even though you know someone is watching you. "I didn't do it. You have to believe me."

"I know. I believe you," he nods and sits across from you, "but someone did and they really want you to suffer for it."

"I've never even met these men in my life. I don't know who they are. How could I have murdered them? I practically live at the BAU."

"They say they have strong evidence against you but they're not saying what it is. I'm not your lawyer."

"How's Spencer?"

"As much as you'd expect him to be. He wanted to come here but the team is on a case on Long Island."

"Hotch, what do I do?" you sigh with tears in your eyes.

"I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here. It's just a matter of time. You might be spending a few days with PD."

"Yeah. You should go to Long Island and help the team. Like you said, they're not gonna let me leave anytime soon. I'll probably still be here when you get back."

"I can stay here."

"Hotch, go help the team. People are dying. I'll be fine."

"Okay."

Hotch gets up to leave but you stop him before he can.

"Tell Spencer I am okay. My family has a lawyer I am going to use. Tell him I will be home soon."

"Alright."

As soon as Hotch leaves, your confident shell fades away. You're not sure if you're going to be okay. PD has their suspect in custody. They're not going to let you go easily. 

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

For future reference: this fandom absolutely DOES prompts!! Some people more than others, but we even have whole blogs dedicated to giving out prompts! ;) (shout-out to @jilymicrofics and @jilychallenge) Prompt lists are great too, of course!

Anyways, a lot of good prompts here but of course it jumped out at me:

"I love you."

"You couldn't have picked a worse time for a confession."

(Tied-up back-to-back Order!Jily go! Or whatever you want to do with it, really, but that's how I pictured it. 😁)

❤

ah this is brilliant information!! thank you!

from this prompt list

It was supposed to be a calm, quick, easy mission.

“Give it to the kids,” Moody had said, waving his hand dismissively as if it wasn’t worth his time to care or follow-up with which ‘kids’ ended up taking on the mission.

That was the only reason James and Lily had ended up doing it together anyway, because Mad-Eye’s universal distaste for romance and relationships and, well, happiness usually keeps the couple separate.

Now, though—Lily’s starting to wonder if maybe the old man had a point, because nothing as elementary as Incarcerous has ever managed to ensnare her when she was on a mission with Mary or Remus or Sirius or anyone other than the idiot currently tied behind her.

“So,” he drawls, “do you think they’ll come back soon or…”

“Shut up, Potter.”

She can feel him shrug casually against her. “I’m just wondering.”

“Do something more useful,” she hisses, struggling against the ropes again.

“I dunno why you’re so upset,” James quips. “This is quality time, Evans. Sure, I usually prefer to be able to actually look at you on our dates, and yeah, I guess the blood stain in that corner over there is a bit of a mood-killer, but, oh, I don’t know. It all has a certain charm to it. Don’t you think it’s all a little sexy?”

“If we ever get out of here,” she says through gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill you.”

The Death Eaters had confiscated both of their wands, but—given James and Lily’s concealed identities—had hesitated to do any more than that. It’s a disturbing advantage, revealing the level of bureaucracy even within their enemy's ranks, that they have to check with their esteemed Dark Lord, or whoever, before proceeding with torture.

So, here Lily and James sit, bound together, their backs pressed against each other in an unidentified room within an unspecified house. The opulence of the marble floors and the imposing darkness of the towering ceilings hinted at its owner's aristocratic (Pureblood) pedigree.

“Should we play a game to pass the time?” James chirps.

“I need to concentrate.”

“Good idea. I love that game!”

“Wh—”

“This is the game of concentration, no repeats or hesitation, I go first, you go second, category is—”

“Jesus Christ, James!” she shouts, shrilly. “How can you sing at a time like this?”

He shifts, his back pressing more firmly into hers, and immediately she knows he's heard what she's been trying so hard to keep concealed. His physical presence succeeds in grounding her, as it always does. “Evans.”

Lily feels awful for snapping at him. None of this is his fault, obviously. He’s been nothing short of wonderful from the beginning. She takes a shaky breath and shuts her eyes. “Yeah?”

“You all right?”

She leans back into him. “No,” she whispers hoarsely, “I don’t think so.”

The ropes shift against her skin as James moves again. She feels his arm bumping along hers and then, out of the corner of her eyes, she sees his hand, moving toward hers. How he’s contorting himself to manage it, she doesn’t know, but she moves her own hand to clasp his without thinking.

He squeezes her hand. “We’re gonna be okay,” he says. “Moody’ll have gotten our Patronus by now. Any minute now—”

“But what if they—”

“It’s not gonna happen,” he says, his voice firm, instilling a sense of confidence in her. “We’ll be out of here before they even find out who we are.”

“I—” Her voice breaks.

“Not gonna happen, Evans. I’ve got your back.” He chuckles a bit pathetically. “Incidentally, right now, I actually do.”

Her head drops, a pitiful snort escaping her at the miserable irony of all this. “Tell me something good,” she murmurs.

“Well, obviously—”

“Something other than your new cat, James.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, a little grumpily. She smiles, clearly imagining the pout on his lips. “How about…oh! My mum is baking a cake for Padfoot’s birthday this weekend. And I don’t know if you’ve had a Euphemia Potter cake before, but—” He pauses for dramatic effect. “You’ll never have something more disgusting in your life.”

“James!”

“No, I’m being so serious, Evans. It’s like…Merlin, it’s like she sweeps the back-streets of London and dumps the contents of her dustbin into a pan with some eggs and just bakes it. We stick a candle in it and sing and fuck, it’s literally so bad.”

“You’re terrible.”

“No, Lily,” he says, seriously. “The cake is terrible. You’ll see.” He hums to himself. “But I see the humorous tragedy of my mum’s cake isn’t going to do it for you, so I’ll move on to another topic. Let’s see, let’s see.”

“I didn’t know it would be so much trouble to think of something good for your girlfriend to—”

“Oh, you’re playing dirty now, Evans. Pulling the girlfriend card, like you don’t know what that does to me, every single time.”

She grins, even though he can’t see her. “What if—”

“Hang on, I’ve got something,” he interrupts her. “Something good.”

“Alright, let’s hear it,” she says, waiting. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Actually, your arse is firmly planted against mine, a fact I have not stopped thinking about since we were thrown in here, but seeing as it’s not an appropriate time to do something about that—”

She bumps the back of her head lightly against his. “Oh my God, Potter, get on with it!”

“I love you.”

Lily freezes, her back going rigid against James’s. “You—” She feels him squeeze her hand again. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time for a confession,” she murmurs numbly.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but before Lily can give a proper response, she feels him shaking against her.

“James?” She shifts to try and get any sort of vantage point to see him. “James, what are—” He’s laughing. Absolutely, hysterically laughing! “Was that a joke?” she demands sharply, trying to withdraw her hand from his. “You’re a terrible person, James Potter! I don’t—”

“No,” he manages, through peals of laughter, trapping her hand back between his. She can feel his head shake back and forth. “No, I was being…completely…serious.”

Jesus, she wishes she could see his face right now. Not that it’s ever aided her in being able to understand this mad man before, but…

“I don’t know why I said it,” he continues, still snorting in laughter. “I mean, I do. Obviously, I…I love you beyond reason, Lily. But—Merlin’s beard, I can’t believe I just—”

“You…love me?” she asks, quietly.

His hand turns over, palm meeting palm, so he can properly intertwine their fingers. “Of course I do,” he says.

“But—”

“I love you.”

She feels a surge of emotion. “I love you, too,” she manages. “So much. A pathetic amount, really. And—”

“I swear to Merlin the second we’re out of here, Evans, I’m going to kiss you so good.”

“So good?” she repeats, giggling at the absurdity of it. He���s ridiculous. She loves him so much.

“Yeah, I’d—” He dissolves into laughter again.

“What now?” she cries.

“It’s just—” He snorts loudly, his head bumping against hers. “Well, see, I’d kiss you now, but I’m…” A loud peal of laughter echoes through the dark room. “I’m a bit…tied up…at the moment.”

#bc james is absolutely the person to laugh at his own jokes #AND have the worst timing of anyone on the planet #my fic #jily

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

⋆୨♡୧⋆l-l-love🤢⋆୨♡୧⋆

as y/n walked to the hype cafe, she immediately spotted riki, a head above the rest. so tall she could point him out in a crowd anywhere. she took a deep breath and took a moment to compose herself before eventually walking over to him. she tapped him on his shoulder as he was facing away from her. "oh! hey!" there it is that smile. to say she loved his smile would be an understatement. she thought it was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen and she nearly felt as if she was going to die at the sight of it. she couldn't help but smile back at him. "hey! how are you?" what he wanted to say was "so much better now that i'm with you", but what came out instead was "good. yeah, i'm good, what about you?" his eyebrow raised, it was single handedly the cutest thing y/n had ever seen. "i'm pretty good. doing a lot of schedules for debut, you know, usual stuff" could she be anymore awkward? clearly yes. first "thanks you too" and now "usual stuff" she felt like she wanted to disappear right then and there, but riki absolutely loved it. this whole time he thought she was so cool and calm, but really she's cute and awkward, which he secretly liked more than if she would have been chill. he finds himself staring at her for a moment before quickly catching himself "oh um- did you want food? I didn't get any cause i wasn't sure if you'd want anything." she smiled at his thoughtfulness and said "no thanks, i'm not super hungry right now. thank you though." he thought back to their conversation yesterday, the whole reason why they're here now. "so, you wanted some tips about mcing?" he asked. "oh! yeah. im kind of nervous, i have no idea what i'm doing and you've ben an mc before, so i was hoping you could give me some advice?" she was hoping this didn't come off as pathetic or anything. i mean, who needs advice on how to talk into a mic? y/n apparently. "well," he starts "for me, i find its best to interact with the fans while waiting for our speaking parts. it calms my nerves before speaking because i'm talking to people that support me. often times it's mostly your own fans watching you in person. that’s at least what sunghoon told me. and if you're worried about messing up lines or something, I'll be there to cover for you, reading from a prompter is hard, so if you mess up its okay. don't worry too much about it." she nodded along to his words, taking mental notes on his advice. "thank you, i really appreciate it. i don't know why im so nervous. its just talking into a mic to a camera." she sighs. "I mean, I understand. it's nerve wracking when it's your first time. I felt like that too when I mc'ed for MAMA one year. it can be scary talking in front of a bunch of people and trying not to mess up. that's why you have a co-host, me! if you do mess up, I can cover you so it doesn't look too much like an accident." her heart fluttered at that. over something so small? she knew it was corny, but she couldn't help it. she felt so strongly for him. she always thought that if she actually talked to him, this whole little crush would go away. but to her surprise, it only got stronger. "you know, since we're going to be working together, we should get each others numbers." her heart stopped, and so did his. hers in shock, and his in fear. what if she said no? what if she thought he was weird? did he really just ask her for her number? there's no way. she froze for a moment, but realized she really should probably respond to him "yeah! yeah of course!" riki was never more relieved in his life. he handed her his phone "here, put your number in." she took it from him and put in her number, texting herself. "there. i can send you a picture for my contact photo later" his heart raced, he had just gotten his crushes number, and she's going to send him a picture of herself later. could his life get any better then this? "okay, sure, yeah, that sounds good" he stammers. is he really flustered right now? oh my god she thought. as the two talked and laughed together, they figured out they're more similar then they thought they were.

the pair quickly growing closer in just mere hours, both feeing significantly strong for each other than when they first said hello earlier. as the time drew later, the two decided to end their night, quickly realizing the ghost town that the hype cafe had become. "oh- well, its late, and my members are blowing up my phone asking where I am" she laughed as she scrolled through the countless messages left by yunjin and hanni. 'yeah, I should probably go too. I told jay I'd help make dinner tonight" he sighed, wishing he didn't promise jay anything and he could hang out with y/n for longer. she laughed lightly "ill let you go then. text me though, okay?" what had come over her? did she really just say that? (y/ns version of flirting was a bit different then others, that being because she didn't know how to flirt) riki nodded and smiled "yeah, I'll text you. see you later!" he waved to her and started to walk away. she waved back and watched him go. she sat back down and sighed once he was out of her sight. she was so fucked. she was completely and utterly melted by him, and they had only just official met yesterday. maybe there was something wrong with her. but frankly, she didn't care. maybe she was being delusional like usual, but she was pretty sure she could see something there with riki.

masterlist | next | previous

luckys note!: guys i’m so good at writing😎😎

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

(🩷) MIDNIGHT FICTION TAGLIST! @nctislifue @akuspic @pkjay @siya-bean @eun-chaez @wavetosunoo @gweoriz @luminouskalopsia @soobiary @ivyannemarie @rikikiynikilcykiki @emma2black @enh4ht @wooziswife @jjunie-0 @yumilovesloona @wth121 @riksaes @isaxshin @allforhee @rikisgeef @sunghoonsarmpit @autumn583 @tzuyusluv @lukesboo @anormieee @rockyhedgehog @thomawifey @lovrqis @akashisthighs

(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

#lvcky g1rl syndr0me #midnight fiction #enha fluff #enha x reader #enhypen texts #enhypen crack #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #ni ki #ni ki enhypen #ni ki fluff #ni ki x reader #nishimura riki imagines #riki texts #riki smau #enha riki #riki fluff #riki enhypen #nishimura riki #riki x reader #riki enha #ni ki smau #niki texts #niki enha #niki smau #niki enhypen #niki x reader #enha #enhypen #enhypen smau

[fuckingstupidbracket]

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS AS WEAPONS

Flute:

- hit someone with it

- play high notes for psychic dmg

- it has sharp edges???

- take it apart and throw it

- stab

- do you guys know who Wei Wuxian is? yeah

Drumsticks:

- hit someone like a drum

- stab

- down someone's throat:))

- use it like an arrow, but you need some kind of bow for that

- sharpen it and STAB again

#round 1 #yes i had to use a wwx picture #you know how hard it was to find a good picture of him from the anime #i dint wanna use fanart cause like obviously #wait #i have my own fanart #eh its not very good tho i should make new one #AND YES THERE ArE A BUNCH OF PICTURES FROM CQL WHERE HE HAS THE FLUTE BUT I DONT LIKE CQL #i had to look at my stash of downloaded mdzs episodes and find a picture myself #this isnt even his flute its the shitty one that gave evryone psychic damage #but the real one is in this real super dark scene where you can barely see anything and that makes for a shit picture

[redsray]

Batfam AU where Jason never dies, so Tim doesn't join the family the standard way. Instead, he continues pouring most of his time and energy into his photography, eventually becoming known as a popular photographer for events and all that. So now, picture this: Tim gets hired to be a photographer for a Wayne gala. Obviously, he's ecstatic, because he can take pictures of Batman, Robin and Nightwing and be in their presence for a whole night. Since Tim is so naturally talented in stealth and taking pictures unnoticed, the second one of the fam realises this they're like: this kid is good. Tim manages to go unnoticed by all 3 of them (all bat-trained, one literally batman) multiple times during the night, and even when he is noticed, he disappears before they can manage to get a good look at him; to the sheer amazement of Dick and Jason.

Jason, (very discreetly putting snacks in his suit pocket): i know you're under the table, kid.

Tim: don't mind me, Mr. Todd-Wayne, sir, just taking a few pictures

Jason: right... Jason's fine, and what pictures were you taking from under the table?!

Tim, showing him perfectly good shots of him: these.

Jason: how did you get that. it looks like you took it from the rafters

Tim, nodding: I did.

Jason, glancing at the ceiling: ...what?

Tim, gone:

Jason: no fucking way.

Dick, hearing a very, very faint camera shutter from behind him:

Dick, turning around and finding no one there: what the actual...

Dick, getting the feeling of being watched and whirling around to find Tim staring at him from across the room: ... huh.

Jason, pulling Dick aside: you see that kid too, right?!

Dick, nodding: the camera kid, yeah?

Jason: who is that.

Dick: he's one of the hired photographers, apparently. one of the best in his field, despite his age.

Jason: he's good. like, really good. snuck up on me 4 times already, the little bastard.

Dick: you too? i swear he's constantly watching. it's creepy how well he can sneak past both of us.

Jason:

Dick:

Jason: you don't think...

Dick: no. B would've told us.

Jason:

Dick:

Dick: did he get another kid and not tell us somehow

Bruce: what do you mean another kid?

Jason: you heard us. did you adopt another kid and not tell us?!

Bruce: no?? how would I even?? ... what's this about?

Dick: one of the photographers has managed to sneak up on both me and Jay multiple times already

Bruce: what.

Jason: he also can't be more than like. 15 or 16. so forgive us for assuming you took another one in.

Bruce: do you know his name?

Dick:

Jason:

Bruce: really?

Dick: in our defence, he's very hard to catch. i wouldn't be surprised if he's snuck up on you, too.

[camera shutter noise]

All of them, whipping their heads toward the sound only to find nothing but air:

Tim, smiling from the other side of the room:

Jason: do you see what we mean?!

Cue an entire night of shenanigans where it's just Dick, Jason and Bruce trying to catch Tim and learn about him. Upon finding out who he is and where he lives, Dick immediately asks to keep him as an honorary member of the family. Jason is hesitant at first but at some point Tim calls Bruce Batman instead of Mr. Wayne on accident and Jason laughs so hard he's basically won over. Bruce can do nothing but watch as Tim proceeds to come over almost every night for sleepovers and is coddled by both of his sons. And he can't deny, the kid's investigation and stealth skills are top tier. By the time Dick and Jason both start referring to Tim as 'their younger brother' Bruce has just accepted his fate.

#batfam #batman #dc comics #tim drake #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam au #dick: look he's even got the dark hair and blue eyes #jason: he fits the pattern. you gotta #dick to tim: you are ours now #tim who just wanted to spend time with his heroes: oh #they declare him as theirs so he is theirs #bruce does not get a choice #he is THEIR little stalker #when jason finds out that tim follows them as vigilantes too he falls over laughing #dick wiping a tear away: he's perfect

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 

Mrs. Peña. 

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 

 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 

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