#but i was like no. that's her name now. she is perfect
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wife, actually
pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: none, this is pure fluff words: 600
summary: who would have guessed why lando hasn’t been active on social media the entire off season…
It was the first interview Lando gave in 2025. Over the off season he hadn’t been active on social media at all, and the fans already started to be confused.
„So, Lando. What do you wish for this season?“
„Well of course winning the WDC this year. I got really close last year and was really sad and mad at myself when i didn’t make it.“ Lando looked around the room that was full of reporters and fans.
But then his eyes found you. He smiled at you which made his eyes glow.
„But you were still really focused in the last races. Managed finishing P1 in Abu Dhabi which secure you the win of the WCC for McLaren in over two decades. How did you do that?“, the reporter asked.
„I just focused on not letting the team down and it helped to be around people who are important to me and helped me stay focused and not get distracted by being mad at myself for not winning the driver‘s championship.“
The reporter nodded.
„So your girlfriend was with you the whole time? Was she the one who helped you?“
Lando grinned even more when he looked at you and saw you giving a small nod.
„Wife, actually. We got married during off season. That’s why we weren’t active on social media over the last couple months. We just wanted to spend some time together and enjoy being a married couple. But to answer your question, yes. She was the person who was there for me and made sure i didn’t lose focus or freak out.“
You smiled at Lando. You both hadn’t exactly planned on telling everyone yet that you were married but this was the perfect situation for Lando. He just had to tell everyone that you were now officially his wife. That you were now carrying his last name.
“Oh? That’s great! Congratulations! When did you propose to her? I can’t believe the fans didn’t notice”, the reporter asked surprised.
“Well actually it was during off season but we didn’t want to wait any longer so when we were drunk we flew to Vegas and well… we came home married”, Lando laughed nervously. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic story to tell but he didn’t really care. It was his and his wife’s story which made it extremely special.
“Well. Again, congratulations you two.”
Lando was asked a couple more questions before being able to leave and go to his wife.
“I thought you didn’t want to tell everyone yet?”, you teased Lando as he ran towards you.
“Well, he said you were my girlfriend. I just had to correct him, didn’t I?” Your husband leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to your lips.
“You really didn’t have to tell them we got married in Vegas… it is embarrassing.” You buried your face in Lando’s chest.
“No, baby. It is not embarrassing. It is cute! It just means we love each other so much we couldn’t wait to be married. You are now Mrs. Lando Norris. Isn’t that cool.” Lando looked at you with that wide grin that made you fall in love with him when you first saw him.
“It is. I am the luckiest woman in the world thanks to that.” You grinned back at him and got on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“And also we will soon have to tell that story to our little one, right?” Lando placed his hands on your belly.
“Yes. I guess we will”, you said smiling. “I still want that wedding party though. I really wanna wear a white dress and have cake. A big cake.”
A/N: I am sick so you only get a small fic today <3 thanks for liking my stuff
taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r
#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1#f1#formula one#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n
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Clueless: Just friends?
Lee Know x fem!reader
Warnings: language, suggestive content MDNI
Genre: friends with benefits to lovers, fluff
Summary: You and Minho used to be friends with benefits. Until you caught feelings, and you both called it off. But Minho obviously misses you and is miserable even though he doesn't want to admit it. And his brothers have had enough of his moping.
Clueless Masterlist
The arrangement with Minho had been perfect - or at least it had started that way. Opposite apartments on the same floor of your nice apartment building. You’d text each other, and within minutes, someone was at the other’s door. No strings, no drama. Just a lot of heat that left you breathless and a little sore the next day.
Until, of course, you did the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do - you caught feelings.
And naturally, Minho, emotionally stunted and a menace to society, panicked. He started pulling away, making excuses every time you asked if he wanted to come over. The warmth in his teasing dimmed into something guarded.
And it hurt. A lot. His rejection wasn't something you had expected, because no matter what anyone said, he was so soft and sweet to you. But he obviously didn't want a relationship, and you both decided to stop seeing each other.
You missed him. Not just his touch, but everything else too. The way he always brought food over (making excuses about how he had extra), held you tight when you had a hard day and how his cats lived with you more than they did with him. Oh you missed the cats. They were literally your kids - and this dirty divorce had given him full custody of them.
And Minho? He was a mess. Not that he’d admit it.
And Jisung had had about enough of his best friend and his brooding.
---
Jisung: OKAY EVERYONE STOP.
Chan: What's up?
Hyunjin: What did you do?
Jisung: NOTHING. THIS IS ABOUT MINHO.
Seungmin: What did he do?
Jisung: He’s been moping for WEEKS. And I'm sick of it.
Changbin: You sure? That’s just his face.
Jisung: LISTEN. IT’S ABOUT Y/N.
Hyunjin: Ohhhhhh.
Felix: I KNEW IT.
Minho: What the hell is going on?
Jisung: OH LOOK WHO DECIDED TO SHOW UP. Jisung: YOU, SIR, ARE A DRAMA QUEEN.
---
Minho sighed. This was the last thing he needed right now.
---
Minho: I’m not moping.
Felix: Sure. And I’m not Australian.
Hyunjin: Yeah, totally not glaring at your phone at all.
Minho: It’s not about her.
Jeongin: Are you sure you didn't accidentally click her name in your contacts 12 times yesterday?
Chan: What's going on, Min?
Minho: I don't even know what you guys are going on about!
Minho: We were friends. With benefits. Not lovers. She was nice in bed. That’s it.
---
There was complete silence in the chat for a minute before it exploded.
---
Chan: No, Minho. No. No. No.
Seungmin: Okay, first of all, what the actual fuck?
Hyunjin: Bro, you did not just say that.
Jisung: YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING LOSER.
Changbin: 😡
Jeongin: Hyung, she's an angel, how could you?
Felix: We’re literally trying to save you from yourself.
Minho: Well don't.
---
Minho hated himself. He absolutely hated himself. But he couldn't dwell on the self hate because Jisung just sent a video of Minho pacing his living room like a caged animal, while ranting about you being gone.
---
Hyunjin: Wow. Ok.
Minho: 🙄
Minho: Stop. Just stop.
Chan: Look, you’re obviously miserable. Why not just talk to her?
Seungmin: Yeah, genius. It’s not like she doesn’t live 20 feet away.
Minho: What if she doesn’t feel the same?
Jeongin: I'm sorry, but you’re an idiot.
Hyunjin: Dude. She liked you enough to start this whole thing. You just have to get over your dumb commitment issues.
Changbin: Honestly, just confess. Worst-case scenario, you cry into Dori.
Minho: I hate you all.
Jisung: Hate is a strong word for someone who’s about to sob into his cat.
Minho: Fine. I’ll talk to her.
---
Minho sat on his couch, heart pounding as he stared at your number on his phone. He’d been backed into a corner by his idiot friends, and now there was no escape.
And knowing you, he had a feeling that this was going to be the single most difficult task ever.
With a frustrated groan, he stood and grabbed his hoodie. He was going to do this. Because he loved you so much, and he was miserable without you.
Across the hall, in your apartment, you were getting some work done, sipping on coffee. You heard the doorbell, and when you opened the door, you saw Minho - disheveled, nervous, and yet, as handsome as ever. And your traitorous heart did that stupid thing it always did around him.
“Hey,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours. “Can we talk?”
Minho hadn’t been this nervous in a long time. He stood at your doorstep, heart racing, and palms sweaty, his usual confidence nowhere to be seen.
And he confessed. Nothing dramatics. Just a straightforward, “I love you.”
You'd stared at him as if trying to figure out if he was high. Or had hit his head somewhere. Or if he was simply horny.
But no. Then came his little speech. I know I don't deserve you. I was an asshole (of course he was). I was afraid (as if you weren't). And more than anything - I hurt you. And I hate myself for it. Ok now that you could work with.
But as hard as you tried, sometimes you just couldn't contain that bratty side of you (one that he apparently loved).
You crossed your arms, glaring at him like he’d just run over your dog.
“You can’t just waltz over here, say ‘I love you,’ and expect me to fall into your arms,” you snapped, looking infuriatingly hot with your brows furrowed and your lips pursed in defiance. “You rejected me, Minho. Do you know much that hurt me?”
His stomach twisted.
“I… I wasn’t ready -” he stuttered, looking terrified.
“Yeah, well, now I’m not ready,” you said, taking a step back and slamming the door in his face for dramatic effect.
You leaned against the door, fuming and freaking out all together. Your hands shook so hard as you wrapped your head around the fact that Minho just confessed to you and you slammed the door on his face.
And Minho stood in the hallway, a mix of shock, frustration, and - God help him - arousal bubbling under the surface. You were bratty when you were mad, of course. It made him want to kiss you and throttle you all at once.
---
Minho: She hates me.
Hyunjin: No, she doesn't. She slammed the door on your face didn't she?
Minho: How the hell are you so accurately right?
Jeongin: It's his thing.
Felix: What happened?
Jisung: Wait. Did you confess?
Minho: YES.
Minho: AND SHE SLAMMED THE DOOR IN MY FACE.
Hyunjin: Obviously.
Chan: So she didn’t say no?
Jisung: LMFAO.
Jeongin: She’s mad at you? Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.
Minho: SHE SAID A SIMPLE “I LOVE YOU” WOULDN’T WORK ON HER. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!
Seungmin: It means she’s not an idiot.
Changbin: Exactly. You rejected her and took months to realize you’re in love. She deserves a little groveling.
Minho: GROVELING?
Felix: Oh, for sure.
---
He was not groveling. No way. Lee Minho didn't grovel. Hell no.
---
Jisung: Yeah, buddy. You gotta pull out all the stops now. Dinner, flowers, interpretive dance. The works.
Minho: STOP.
Hyunjin: Actually, the dance idea is kinda sexy. Imagine Minho doing a hip roll to apologize.
Felix: STOP IT. I’M WHEEZING.
Minho: CAN YOU ALL BE SERIOUS FOR TWO SECONDS?!
Chan: Look, the point is, you hurt her feelings. You need to show her that you’re serious.
Minho: How?! She's a damn brat. She enjoys torturing me.
Jisung: If she’s a brat, she’s gonna want to see you sweat.
Minho: She frustrates me.
Jisung: So you're sure you're just frustrated and not turned on right now?
---
Damn Jisung.
---
Jeongin: YAHHHH
Felix: You’re INTO IT???
Changbin: My man’s in love AND down bad.
Minho: Please.
Felix: Okay, focus. If groveling isn’t your style, do something you.
Hyunjin: Yeah. Seduce her with your weird cat boy energy or whatever.
Minho: You’re all useless.
Seungmin: Says the man who just admitted to being horny and clueless.
Chan: Minho, she clearly wants you to prove yourself. You’ve got to show her you’re willing to put in effort.
Hyunjin: Write her a song. Serenade her. Cry through it.
Minho: I don’t cry.
Jisung: LIES. I’ve seen you cry at those pet videos.
Minho: JISUNG YOU'RE DEAD.
Minho: What if she never forgives me?
Jeongin: She will. She’s just mad. Just play along.
Hyunjin: He’s right. Drama makes us hotter.
Minho: You're all insane 🙄
Chan: Insane but not wrong. Now, go apologize properly.
---
Minho paced his living room, his mind racing through ideas - romantic dinner? A heartfelt speech? Maybe just tossing himself at your feet and begging?
He needed a plan.
---
Minho: Fine. Give me ideas to make her forgive me.
Jisung: OHOHOHOHOHO.
Felix: Oh, this is gonna be good.
Hyunjin: Okay, everyone, let’s brainstorm.
Changbin: Classic dinner and flowers. Can’t go wrong.
Jisung: No, no. She’s mad. You need to go BIG. Like, dramatic big.
Minho: Like what? Fall to my knees in the rain?
Hyunjin: YES. Bonus points if you sob.
Minho: I’m not doing that.
Seungmin: You’re all useless. Look, Minho, she’s mad because you hurt her. You need to make her feel special. Do something that shows you actually care.
Jisung: STRIPTEASE.
Chan: Jisung.
Felix: WAIT. THAT’S ACTUALLY KIND OF FUNNY.
Hyunjin: Picture this. You show up at her door, music playing, and just start taking things off.
Minho: I want to win her back. Not make her think I'm horny.
Jisung: Coward.
---
Obviously he knew this would happen. He knew it.
---
Chan: Okay, let’s regroup. Minho, what does she like?
Minho: Being mad at me, apparently.
Jeongin: Sounds like she has taste.
Minho: She likes reading. And baking. And…dancing.
Felix: Aha! Bake her something!
Hyunjin: And while it’s baking, do a little dance. Shirtless.
Jisung: OOOH. Combine the ideas. Show up with baked goods and then do the striptease.
Minho: Oh my God.
Seungmin: You could apologize like a normal person, you know.
Felix: Where’s the fun in that?
Jisung: No, no. We need something iconic.
Felix: Okay, serious suggestion: Show her that you actually listened to her. Her favorite food? Or something thoughtful that shows you care about what she likes.
Minho: Like…?
Hyunjin: Cook her favorite meal.
Chan: Or bring her flowers that mean something.
Jisung: Or do the striptease.
Minho: STOP WITH THE STRIPTEASE.
Felix: It’s not a bad idea, you know. Women love confidence.
Minho: I’ll do the cooking idea. But if this backfires, I'm gonna hunt each one of you down and then see what happens.
Jisung: Lies. You’ll be back to cry about it.
---
Minho got to work. He spent hours perfecting your favorite meal, rehearsing his apology in front the mirror, and trying not to think about how much he wanted to kiss you. God, he just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how much his life sucked without you in it.
When he finally knocked on your door, you opened it to find him standing there, holding so many containers of food and looking uncharacteristically nervous.
“Hi,” he said, voice soft. “Can I come in?”
You crossed your arms, and sighed.
"Minho, I really don't have the time-"
"I made your favorite," he said, holding up the containers. "And I will grovel if that's what it takes."
You did love it when he cooked for you.
“This better be good.”
Minho stood in your living room, wringing his hands as you sat on the couch, glaring at him. He set the food on the coffee table and looked at you, his sharp tongue failing him for once.
“I was afraid,” he finally said, voice low.
“Afraid of what? Being happy?” You asked, arching an eyebrow.
Minho winced.
“Yes. No. I mean…God, I don’t know. You’re everything to me, okay? And I was scared I’d ruin it. And then I did ruin it, and now I’m standing here like an idiot, begging you to let me fix it.”
“You… you really mean that?” You asked, your voice softer now, your eyes obviously filling up with tears.
“I’ve been a mess without you. I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, but I do. I love you, and I’ll spend as long as it takes proving it to you.” he whispered, and you sighed, standing up and stepping closer to him.
“You’re such a dumbass, you know that?”
“Yeah, I've been told.”
And then he cupped your cheeks with his hands and kissed you. Rough and messy, the tension melting away as your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.
“You better not mess this up.” you muttered against his lips.
“Not a chance.”
---
Minho: We’re trying the relationship thing.
Felix: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!
Hyunjin: FINALLY.
Jisung: Thank you 🙏
Changbin: Congrats, lover boy.
Chan: Proud of you, Minho.
Felix: Did she like the food?
Minho: Um, it kinda went cold. She’s heating it up now.
Hyunjin: LMAO.
Jisung: What about the striptease? Did you do it?
Minho: 🙄🙄🙄
Jisung: ANSWER THE QUESTION, COWARD.
Minho: We did strip. So… hehe.
Felix: SIR.
Hyunjin: NOT THE “HEHE.”
Jisung: I CAN’T BREATHE.
Changbin: YOU DOG.
Chan: Minho, for the love of God.
Minho: You asked.
Jisung: My dude really said, “She forgave me, and then we got NAKED.” ICONIC.
Jeongin: Please. I just came here to see if Minho hyung was still single, and now I want to bleach my brain.
Chan: Can we not, for once, be so feral?
Hyunjin: You’re in the wrong chat for that, Christopher.
Jisung: Anyway, so… did you, like, destroy the house or… ?
Minho: I will never speak to any of you again.
Jisung: YOU CAN’T JUST DROP “WE STRIPPED” AND THEN LEAVE.
Felix: It’s called a cliffhanger, Ji. Let the man be mysterious.
Hyunjin: Yeah, mysterious about how whipped he is.
Felix: Totally
Divider: @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @hanadulsetaad
#skz#stray kids#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#lee know fluff#lee know angst#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#skz fluff
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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388)
pairing: dom!dae-ho x reader
genre: smut (18+)
warnings: pda, voyerism, teasing, p in v, brat taming, sub/dom, handjob, dirty talk, overstimulation, car sex.
summary: a little stunt during family dinner brings out a side of dae-ho you’ve never seen before.
dae-ho was never one to turn down dinner with your parents. he had perfected the art of impressing your dad and flattering your mother, and tonight was no different. dae-ho shook your father’s hand, called him sir, and spent the whole evening attentively listening to his every word over dinner made by your mother. he nodded along, asked informed questions, and kept a perfectly straight face while you jerked him off under the dinner table.
“what were you saying about the — unngh,” he suddenly grunted as you squeezed his shaft. he quickly feigned a string of coughs, reaching for a glass of water while gesturing to his neck with a flustered wave of his hand.
your mother gasped. “oh, dear! let’s get you some more water,” she said, standing up from her seat to reach for the jug of water in the middle of the table.
“no!” dae-ho blurted out, pulling a napkin over his lap in an attempt to conceal your hand in his suit trousers. he quickly adjusted his alarm into a charming smile that convinced your mother to sink back into her seat. “thank you,” he said. “but it’s alright now. must’ve swallowed some of this delicious beef the wrong way!” he joked, chuckling heartily as your mother fawned.
“oh!” she said, flattered. “well, it’s just something i put together quickly…”
your father scoffed. “don’t listen to her, dae-ho. she’s been braising this beef all day, haven’t you honey?”
dae-ho seized another chunk of it in his chopsticks while your mother blushed. “well, that is clear in its flavour,” he said sweetly, then glanced to your father to add, “let’s hope i make it to the end of the meal, shall we?” he joked, and your father’s hearty laugh drown out the sharp breaths you pulled form dae-ho as you massaged his cock in your fist.
he shot you a warning glare while your parents were distracted in conversation.
at the end of the evening, after finishing your meal and enjoying some chatter over glasses of wine, dae-ho bid farewell to your parents by the door.
“thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said as your mother pulled him into a hug.
she kissed his cheek. “we always welcome your company, dae-ho,” she said, pinching his cheek affectionately. “such a pleasure to cook for.”
your father agreed, clasping dae-ho’s hand in a firm shake. “do come again soon.”
dae-ho’s eyes widened, and you knew by the redness flooding his cheeks that he is thinking about the sticky cum in his boxers. the situation you caused. he shot you a quick glance as the little giggle slipped from your lips, and while the dark flash of warning in his eyes went unnoticed by your parents, it’s didn’t to you.
he opened his arms. while you often savoured the security that came with the size of his muscles, it’s rare you’re intimidated by them. by the power they had over you. inching closer and pressing yourself against his chest, you’re squeezed flush against him as his arms wrapped around you.
he said your name. it dripped with tension, but it’s still intense with the affection you were so accustomed to. “it’s always lovely seeing you,” he said and leaned down to bury his face in your hair. his breath burned your skin, and you were suddenly aware of just hot quickly his heart was beating. how tense his muscles felt under yours.
you had really done it tonight. you had pushed him too far and found the side of dae-ho that rarely surfaced. the side that liked to punish you in the one way that’ll teach you never to misbehave again. frighteningly, and just a little bit thrillingly, you knew you would soon learn your lesson.
“did you enjoy your fun this evening?” he asked innocently enough, but it’s laced with so much meaning that a chill ran down your back.
you nodded cautiously. “i did,” you said, your hands hesitantly resting on his back. it suddenly felt so broad under your touch, and even as you slid them higher, all you discovered was more muscle under his shirt.
his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. you flinched into his hold, and his big arms held you steady, trapped you in his embrace. in his trap. exactly where he wanted you to be.
quiet enough for only you to hear, lips shielded from your parents in your hair, he whispered to you. “meet me in my car.”
with that, he pulled away and the warmth returned to his chipper demeanour as he waved you all farewell one last time. as your dad showed him out the door, he sent you one last look, before walking down the driveway. his car keys jingled purposefully with every step.
your reminder.
the front door closed, and your parents poured one final glass of wine before disappearing into the living room. you waited until they became engrossed in what was playing on the television, before quietly slipping out the front door, closing it with a soft click.
the headlights were already on, the passenger door popped open for you, and dae-ho wasted no time in driving out of your street. he parked up in a lonely alleyway nobody would ever use so late at night, and the second the ignition shut off, he pounced.
you had never had such a good view of the backseats as you did now with your face pressed against them, cheek raw as it brushed across the surface with every blow of dae-ho’s hips.
“is this what you wanted?” he grunted, one hand on the arch of your back, the other pushing your head down. “to get fucked like a little bitch in the back of my car?”
you cried as he delivered a thrust that reached so deep into your pussy you could swear it hit your cervix. he held you still as you struggled underneath him, his amusement coming out in a breathy scoff. you could only imagine the smug grin on his face.
“oh, is it too much, baby?” he cooed. “my dick too big for you, huh?”
the blow of his hips, the small but effective increase in his pace forcing the sob to bubble out of your throat. “yes!” you cried, and you didn’t know if you were answering him or asking for more.
“too bad,” he taunted, forcing his cock in even deeper. he slowly shifted more of his weight onto you, and the strangled groan he pulled from you only encouraged the speed of his thrusts. “you asked for this.”
he drove your body forward with each blow of his hips, and even as your body convulsed under his, he didn’t ease his pace. he fucked into you until you saw stars, and even as you clamped down and released on his cock, he didn’t stop. he rode you through your high and took you all the way to the next one, until your tears rolled down your cheeks and your arousal down your legs.
“what’s the matter, baby?” he asked from behind, drops of his sweat landing on the arch of your back. “isn’t this what you wanted?”
backseat loving with dae-ho…dreamy. please like, comment, reblog. love <33
#dae ho x reader#kang dae ho x reader#dae ho x reader smut#player 388 x reader#player 388 x reader smut#Kang dae ho x reader smut#dae ho smut#Kang dae ho smut#player 388 smut#Kang dae ho#dae ho#player 388#squid game x reader#squid games x reader#squid game x reader smut#squid games x reader smut#squid game smut#squid game#squid games
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i added geto's part [an extended version of course] for my lovely @norikuna .... 💐
dress slutty your boyfriend can fight? more like dress slutty, your boyfriend is dressing sluttier.
it started as a joke. a harmless little competition. if you showed up in a dangerously short skirt, geto countered with a top so cropped it was basically a bandeau. if you went for thigh-high boots, he threw on pants so tight they might as well have been painted on. one time, you wore a sheer top with nothing but confidence underneath—he showed up in a backless halter. it was an arms race of fashion, and neither of you were willing to lose. the problem? everyone else.
nights out were a battlefield. you’d walk into a bar, hand in hand, and it was like the bisexual version of the parting of the red sea. heads turned. jaws dropped. someone—usually a poor, unfortunate soul who hadn’t yet learned their lesson—would try to flirt.
“hey,” some guy said once, eyes locked on you. “can I buy you a drink?”
before you could answer, geto, wearing a dangerously low-cut silk shirt and smirking like the menace he was, looped an arm around your waist and leaned in. “they’re taken, sweetheart.”
the guy blinked. then he looked at geto. really looked at him.
“oh,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “oh.”
bisexual panic. total system failure. he short-circuited like a robot on its last legs. you weren’t sure if he wanted to fight, flirt, or spontaneously combust.
it got even worse when people tried to hit on geto.
“sooo, what’s your name?” some girl once purred, running a manicured finger down his sleeve. you, in a fit of completely unnecessary possessiveness, grabbed his wrist and yanked him into you. “mine.”
now it was her turn to panic. she looked between you, eyes darting from geto’s sharp jawline to your smug grin, to the way his hand settled so perfectly on your hip. “hottest couple award goes to you two, i guess,” she muttered, backing away in defeat.
as if that wasn’t bad enough, sometimes people tried to shoot their shot with both of you at the same time. one particularly bold (and clearly delusional) person had approached, eyes flickering between you and geto like they were trying to calculate their odds.
“so, uh… you guys ever thought about adding a third?”
the silence that followed was deafening. you exchanged a glance with geto.
then, in perfect unison, both of you scoffed.
“you think you can handle us?” you teased, raising a brow.
“babe, they’d be in a coma by morning,” geto added, adjusting one of his rings. the poor fool swallowed thickly.
“...fair enough.”
at the end of the day, you and geto were in a league of your own. hot, hotter, hottest. and everyone else? just struggling to breathe in your presence.
dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like everyone runs the second they see sukuna—because what would you do if a 6’4” pink-haired, red-eyed menace started powerwalking toward you like a GTA NPC with maxed-out aggression settings? you tried to flirt? bold of you to assume you’ll live to tell the tale. that’s not even a fight, that’s a one-sided curb stomp at 1000 km/h.
dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like gojo picked the outfit, hyped you up in the mirror, and dramatically twirled you around like he was styling a runway model. people whispering, “your boyfriend must be so proud of you dressing like this” have no idea. he’s not just proud. he’s smug. he’s grinning like the cheshire cat. he’s reminding everyone that this outfit? it was purchased with his black card. he might as well get a tattoo on his forehead that says “i love my partner.”
dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like nanami doesn’t even take you to places where people might get ideas. he’s preemptively removing himself from all potential nonsense. but in the rare event that some old-money finance bro decides he’s all that, nanami doesn’t waste words. no yelling, no drama—just a discreet nod to the staff, and suddenly, mr. stocks-and-bonds is being escorted out so efficiently you’d think nanami owns the whole damn place. (he does not. but he does know the owner. personally. and that’s enough.)
dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? yeah. toji is currently fighting them. no hesitation. someone made eye contact for 0.2 seconds with you across the bar? boom, it’s a street fight. you barely brushed against someone in the crowd? suddenly, they’ve got a black eye. no one even knows what started it—just that toji is laughing, you’re holding his drink, and there’s a very real possibility someone’s going home in an ambulance. your boyfriend can fight? yeah. but at this point, he should probably be arrested.
#@geto#@gojo#@nanami#@toji#@sukuna#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x you#gojo x reader#nanami x you#nanami x reader#toji x you#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#geto x you#geto x reader#suguru x you#suguru x reader#suguru x y/n
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ho is u shakespeare? that shinsou fic was the SHIT
i BEG BEG BEG FOR shinsou nsfw, you write him so good PLEASE
like headcanons, oneshots, full fics ANYTHING PLEASE I LOVE YOU MWUAH MWUAH MWAUH
NONSENSE PT 3
You can’t stop thinking of Shinsou after your first date.
NSFW, Phone sex, guys this is pure FILFFFTH tw..
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You end up calling Shinsou only an hour later. It’s actually him who calls you first, but you won’t deny the fact that you pick up almost instantly.
“Hey.”
His voice sounds a little breathless, and considering the fact he just got home, you assume he’s only just walked through the door, but it immediately makes you smile. You hear some rustling on the other end, a door open and close, and you assume he’s in his bedroom. You’ve set yourself up on your own bed, a Kraft Mac and cheese in your favourite mug and a movie on your laptop.
“So. It’s been a while. How have you been?” You ask and his laugh crackles in the mic.
His laugh that reminds you of his smile, which reminds you of his lips and the way they’d kissed you only minutes before. Your hands drift to where he had grabbed your face and you sit up, trying to calm yourself down.
If you’re being entirely honest with yourself, you feel horny.
You have a rule for yourself. Despite your joke earlier, you have a deal with yourself to never fuck on the first date. You never really know someone properly after one, and especially with university guys, you’d rather get to know them better first. It’s also another little test, to see if they have that perfect mix of disappointment and respect at your denial.
Shinsou hadn’t even suggested at anything crazy, but that kiss had left your stomach coiling with need, and you found that you haven’t stopped thinking about him since. About getting him in your room and your bed. Your roommate wasn’t even home. It would’ve been perfect.
But you have principles, and even cute guys like Shinsou can’t change them.
“I’m good. I’m home, now. Dropped Eri home. She said she misses you.”
You smile, tucking yourself further under your blankets. “I miss her. And so does Elizabeth.”
You can almost hear Shinsou shaking his head. “Where did she even get a name like that?”
“God knows. Thanks for winning her for me though.”
Shinsou sighs, and you hear noise on the other line. “Well. It was nothing difficult, you know.”
You hum. “It was a great date, though. Plus one and all.”
“Really?”
“Really. I have a rule for myself, and you almost made me break it.”
Fuck. You were not supposed to say that.
“Rule?”
“Anyway! I’m watching a movie. What are you doing?”
“No, no.” Shinsou interrupts. “What rule?”
“No rules. What rules? It’s nothing.” You stammer.
Shinsou laughs. “Come on, don’t get all shy on me now. What rule?”
You huff. It’ll be fine. It’s not like he’s going to be weirded out or anything. You’re sure that kiss meant just as much as it did to him with how far his tongue was in your mouth.
“I. Well. I sorta have this rule, that I won’t ever sleep with guy on the first date, but I almost broke it. For you.” You laugh nervously.
You hands cover your face. He’s on speaker now, and the phone is out of sight to your side like it’ll make you feel any less ashamed of the words that just came out of your mouth.
“Come over then. Fuck your rules.”
His voice has dropped, gravelly and mixed with someone else you can’t quite place, and you think you could die listening to it.
Your face flushes at his words. “Shinsou! I-I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
You feel another pang of need. But you won’t. You tell him so and he groans, and you imagine him making that noise in a different setting and you screw your eyes shut.
“I’m always one for a loophole, sweetheart. I have an idea. If you’re interested.”
You wonder if he can feel your arousal from the other line, the way you almost throw your laptop and snacks off your bed. You have some idea what he could want, and you’re already preparing yourself to say yes, untangling your legs from beneath your covers to sit up in your bed.
“I’m interested.”
He hums. There’s a beat of silence, like he’s considering his next words.
“Touch yourself.” His voice is softer now, but it’s laced with something dangerous. “For me.”
“For you?” You still try and find a way to tease him back, but you’re laying back as you speak, already preparing yourself to obey.
“Well, it can be for you too, sweetheart.” He laughs. “Well?”
“Okay.”
You delve into the very back of your bedside table, the dildo you’d bought on an especially lonely night in your hand. Your hoodie, no, Shinsou’s hoodie, is off in a second, and you’re just wearing an old T-shirt and underwear. Shinsou hears the commotion, and he suddenly speaks up.
“No rushing, okay? You’re gonna do what I tell you. All the stuff I would’ve done if I’d have come over tonight.”
Your head falls back against the pillow, and heat pools between your legs. You think you whimper slightly, and you drop the toy on the sheets next to you.
“Okay. Fine.”
“Good girl.”
Oh fuck. You make a noise at the praise, and you can hear the smirk on his voice when he speaks once more. “I’ll remember that for later.”
You sigh. “So? What would you have done if you were coming over tonight?”
Shinsou thinks for a moment. “Would’ve walked you to mine. Let you in and very respectfully shown you to my couch.”
His words are tame enough, but the anticipation and the thought behind them has you wondering how long it would take for you to get to his place. One of your hands trail mindlessly up and down your stomach as you turn up the volume of your phone to the max.
“I’d have gotten you a drink. Sat you down on the couch just far enough that you’d want to move closer. Would you have moved closer?”
“Yes. I would’ve.”
He hums and you hear a zipper, a rustle of fabric. “That’s good. I’d have moved closer, too. Brushed a hair out of your face. Any excuse to touch you, that gorgeous face.”
He’s not even here, and you’re this worked up. He’s barely even said anything, nothing that suggestive, but you think you’re the wettest you’ve ever been in your entire life.
“I think- I’d have leaned in. Tried to kiss you.” You whisper.
“Yeah? Well, I would've kissed you back.” He sounds equal parts cocky and flattered, and it makes you want him that much more. You don’t love the noise that you make at that, but you do love the chuckle he makes in response.
“I wanted to kiss you all night. I think if we were anywhere else I’d have you bent over the closest surface. I don’t think I’d have been able to stop if I had gotten just one taste.”
Your hands itch towards your toy, and he tuts, ever perceptive. “Not yet.”
“Fuck, Shinsou.”
“Come on. Don’t you want to be good for me?”
You can hear the stupid smirk on his face, and the strangled noise you make is so out of character of you it makes you mad, along with the satisfied sound that he makes, but you’re frankly too turned on to really care right now.
“That’s what I thought. You’d have been good for me at mine too, right? Let me take that shirt off?”
“Yes. Yes.” And in turn you fumble behind you and unclip your bra, and your chest is heaving, aching, begging to be touched.
“Would you let me play with those gorgeous tits?”
“You didn’t even see them.” You try go for teasing but you sound so breathless it’s more degrading to you than anything else.
“Oh, I can imagine. Touch them. Pretend it’s me.”
Finally. Your hands immediately come up, rough and impatient-
“Slowly. Softly, at first. I’d take my time with you.” You groan but you comply, hands almost feather light as you ghost over your nipples.
“How’s that feel?”
“Good. S’good.” You whine. “It’s not enough.”
“Would you get frustrated? Show me how rough you want it?”
You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yes.”
And you don’t wait for the command before you’re pinching roughly, a groan leaving your lips as your hips lift off the bed and the stimulation goes straight to the heat building between your legs.
“That’s it. So good for me.” He coaxes you and another moan leaves your throat. “And what if I slipped those jeans off? Let my hands slide up those beautiful legs?”
“I-I’d let you. Please.”
“Would you be wet?”
“Yes, fuck I’m so wet. Need you, Shinsou.”
“Hitoshi. Call me Hitoshi.”
You do and he curses, and there’s more movement on his end. You wonder what he looks like right now, and you have half a mind to send him your address right now.
“That’s good. I’d give you what you need. You’d need it so badly, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” And you love that his words sound that bit strained, that he’s not as unaffected as you think he’s trying to seem.
“Please, please, Hitoshi.” You whine, and you’re not exactly sure what it is you’re begging for but you know he can give it to you.
“Tell me how wet you are. Just- One finger only.”
You could put all five in and he’d have no way of knowing. But there’s something so domineering about his voice, and you find yourself obeying instantly. You push past your underwear, shoving them to the side to slip your pointer finger between your folds. And you’re soaked, considering how little has actually happened.
“God, I’m so wet.” You sigh, finger trailing from your slit all the way up to your clit. “So messy.”
And Shinsou groans, a curse slipping past his lips, and the way he sounds just as worked up as you are makes you keen.
“Please. I need to touch myself, Hitoshi.”
“One finger. Put it in and tell me how it feels.” His voice drips with authority and something so commanding you don’t hesitate to listen.
And it barely feels like anything, slipping inside you with no issue, no hesitation and you whine. “Not enough.”
And you remember his hands, remember staring at them while he was manoeuvring the claw machine and you shake your head. “Can I use two? Want it to feel like you, like yours.” You mumble.
“Jesus fuck.” He grunts, and you hear the sound of skin of flesh and you feel a small sense of triumph.
“You were looking at my hands, baby? Go on, fuck yourself with those fingers just like I would. Fuck, would’ve made you cum on my lap before you even thought about getting to touch me. Bet you look so good when you cum. Wish I was there to see it.”
His words are a rambled mess and it only spurs you on. Your fingers thrust in as much of a steady rhythm as you can manage, and you use your thumb to rub messily at your clit, hips bucking off the bed. You don’t think you’ve cum from just your hands in forever, but the voice groaning in your ears sounds so needy, full of so much want and it’s all for you. Your peak gets closer and you moan, and he just keeps talking you through it.
“I want to hear it, okay? You’re gonna come all over those fingers for me and I want to hear it. Tell me when you’re close.” He says.
“So close, Hitoshi, fuck.” You cry.
“Come for me.”
And you do, clenching hard around your fingers, thighs twitching as you rub yourself through it, your moans hot and heavy as they slip out your mouth. You are very glad your roommate is not home, because you can be as loud as you want, as loud as Shinsou wants.
“Shit. You sound so good when you come, fuck-“ He lets out something that sounds feral, and in the haze of your orgasm you’re not afraid to ask.
“Did you-“
“No. I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He lets out a deep breath, steeling himself, and as if you didn’t just orgasm, there’s already arousal crawling against your skin once more.
“I bet you’d be so good after you’d just come. So soft and pliant, let me take you to my room. Is that right?”
“Yes. Yes, I’d let you. Want you to fuck me, Hitoshi.” Your first orgasm only makes your want grow, anticipating what’s next.
“Aw, you should’ve come back to mine.” He teases, voice soft with something dangerous hidden beneath it. “Hope you have something you can use. I can promise it won’t be as good as the real thing, though.”
He sounds almost jealous under all the self-assuredness, and your hands immediately fumble for your toy.
“Yeah. I have it.”
“Good.” You’re already spreading your legs. “But not yet.”
You whine. “But-“
“You really think I’m doing anything before I taste that sweet cunt of yours?”
You stutter, pushing yourself up the sheets. “You- You’d do that?”
Shinsou pauses for a moment. “Nobody ever eaten you out before, baby?”
You shudder at his words. “No- Well yes, but they never really wanted to.”
And when he groans, it’s frustrated this time. “Nobody’s ever made you come on their tongue? Felt those soft thighs clench around their head because of how good they’re making you feel?”
He sounds so matter of fact, like it’s the worst thing in the world, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so wanted in your life.
“Hitoshi- I- I don’t-“
“I’ll give it to you, baby. You deserve it, you deserve to come on my tongue. Go on, touch yourself again.” His encouragement has you immediately complying, and he doesn’t stop.
“Think about it. About me. I’d spread you out on my sheets, make you see stars by the time I’m done with you. Gotta make sure you can take me.”
And the promise of that, of him pushes you closer to the edge. You moan his name over and over like a prayer as he talks you through it, the praise making you melt against your sheets. You’re hot and sweaty and he hums.
“Last one. You’re doing so well. Grab your toy.”
You do, the soft silicone cold in your hand. “It’s not very big.” You laugh slightly, and you can hear his smile.
“I guess we’ll just have to use our imaginations then.”
And you can’t help but grin, because even in a moment like this he’s joking to ease your nerves.
“Go on. Fuck yourself.”
His words are so bold, so vulgar but you don’t care, because you slide the toy inside you and you feel full instantly, the stretch just there but beautifully painful. You groan, relief and arousal all mixed in one. You twitch, still sensitive after your orgasm.
“Feels so good.” You whimper. Your thrusts are slow and long, just like you imagine he’d do it.
“It’ll feel even better when I’m inside you.” And it’s now you can hear the slick sound of flesh on flesh moving in tandem with you, and you wonder how soaked you must sound for him to be able to keep in time with you.
You know it’s nothing like what he’d actuallly feel like, but you’re so pent up. You’ve been aching for this for god knows how long now that it feels almost perfect, and you buck you hips up for a better angle, to reach deeper. The sound of his shaky breaths in your ear only spur you on. You sound filthy. Whimpers and whines and broken moans falling from you lips as you get faster.
“I can hear you, you know. How wet you are.” He sounds as close as he has all night, voice strained as he practically growls down your ears.
“M’close, Hitoshi. Wanna come with you, please.”
“Fuck, yes, yes. Come for me then, baby, fuck-“
And it’s a messy mix of moans and unintelligible noises as you both climax, and you twitch and squirm and you wonder what he looks like in the throes of his pleasure. If he looks as desperate and finished as you do. Your chest heaves as you come down from your high, and he curses once more, guttural and spent. You both pant, catching your breath once more.
“Fucking hell. That- Did you-“
“I did.” You say.
And the shyness comes in as your high starts to fade. You feel dirty but in a good way. You think that’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done, but you’re glad it was with Shinsou of all people.
“So,” and you’re smiling before he can even finish his sentence. “Can I take you out on Friday?”
You hum. “Sounds like you’re just trying to get into my pants, Hitoshi.”
And he laughs, loud and boyish and you grin.
“Well. I am. The rule doesn’t count after two dates right?”
“Correct.”
“Perfect. But.” And he sounds almost shy when he speaks again, like he wasn’t just speaking the most raunchy words you’d ever heard in your life moments ago.
“I like you. A lot. Really like you.”
“Good. I really like you a lot, too.”
And you’re body aches and your face hurts from smiling too much, but you don’t care. You would amend your first date rule after tonight, but you don’t think you’ll be going on anymore first dates after this.
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guys this is pure SMUTTTTT LIKE omg don’t tell me Shinsou isn’t a freaky boy we all know he is… I acc couldn’t stop thinking of him after I wrote pt2 and when I got thsi ask I knew what had to be done..
I love u all and I hope u love this as much as I did! I literlaly wrote this during my lecture at uni in public so.. do with that information what u will
LOVE U GUYS
#oneshot#fluff#b3ach bunn7#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x you#shinsou x y/n#mha shinsou#shinsou x reader#hitoshi shinsou#bnha shinsou#shinsou hitoshi x reader#ao3 shinsou#bnha smut#bnha shinsou Hitoshi#mha smut
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"Wicked Game" - Aemond Targaryen
Sister's Boyfriend!Aemond x Reader (Modern!au)
Summary: Ever since your sister got a new boyfriend, you have been captivated by him. His long, silky silver hair and the mysterious eye patch. It's sad, truly. You know you could never have him, as they only have eyes for each other. If only he could see you in a different light than just his girlfriend's baby sister...
Warnings: SMUT 18+; rough sex; voyeurism; use of sex toys (dildos, nipple clamps, vibes etc.); infidelity; Aemond being lowkey a sadist; name calling during sex (slut); orgasm denial; oral (m! receiving); angst (in the end)
Words: 13.1k
Notes: Everything is consensual. If you do not agree with the warnings, DO NOT read. I am not responsible for the media YOU consume.
𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
You’d been harbouring a crush on Aemond Targaryen for over a year, and honestly, it was infuriating. The universe had a cruel sense of humour, putting a man like him so close, yet so utterly out of reach. He wasn’t just your sister’s boyfriend—he was her serious boyfriend, the type you just knew she envisioned a future with. And the worst part? He was perfect for her.
Aemond wasn’t the type of guy you stumbled upon in your usual circle. Sharp-witted, devastatingly handsome, and impossibly composed, he carried himself with a confidence that drew attention the moment he entered a room. That long silver hair, always tied neatly back, and that piercing blue eye—one covered by an eyepatch that only added to his allure—made him look like he’d stepped out of some mythic tale. And you hated that you noticed it as much as you did.
The first time you met him, you were already doomed. You’d been awkward, stumbling over your words as he shook your hand at some family gathering. He was polite, of course, though his demeanour remained cool and unreadable. It only made you blush harder. Over time, your reactions to him only grew worse. Aemond, being Aemond, always seemed so unbothered—offering a kind smile here, a polite laugh there—but it didn’t seem like he ever really saw you. Not the way you wanted him to.
You tried not to let it get to you, but it did. Every time he walked through the door, greeting your sister with that subtle, affectionate smile of his, your stomach tightened. Every time his deep voice carried across the room, making some wry comment or insightful observation, you found yourself hanging onto his every word. And every time you caught a glimpse of him without your sister beside him, you let your imagination wander to places it absolutely shouldn’t.
It was humiliating. Worse than that—it was maddening.
You wanted to stop thinking about him, to shove the feelings down and pretend they didn’t exist. He was totally off-limits, the kind of forbidden crush that should’ve died as quickly as it started. But no matter how hard you tried, your stupid heart refused to let go.
And it didn’t help that your sister seemed so happy with him. She was your sister, after all, and you loved her. You’d never do anything to jeopardize what they had. That knowledge should’ve been enough to kill the fantasy altogether, but instead, it made it worse. You were stuck on the outside looking in, knowing that no matter how much you wanted him, he’d never be yours.
So, you did what you could. You tried to keep your distance, to swallow your feelings whenever they crept up, but it wasn’t easy. Whenever he was over for dinner, you saw him at family events, or your sister started gushing about how perfect he was—it grated on you. Not because you resented her happiness, but because you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you wanted him for yourself.
And you hated yourself for it.
By now, you’d started masking your crush as an annoyance—making sharp remarks here and there to cover up how flustered you got around him. You’d convince yourself that his distant politeness was a sign he thought of you as nothing more than his girlfriend’s little sister. That thought hurt more than it should, but at least it kept you grounded in reality.
You’d tried to bury the feelings. You really had.
The bass thrummed through the club like a heartbeat, the flashing lights painting the crowded dancefloor in vibrant reds and blues. You were out with your friends—Baela, Rhaena, Jacaerys, Addam, and Cregan—and for once, you weren’t holding back. This wasn’t your usual night of sipping drinks quietly at the bar. Tonight, you let yourself go, swaying to the music, laughing with your friends, and celebrating passing your exams.
Your tight black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and your bold makeup gave you the confidence to let loose. Your hair was styled to perfection and every now and then, you caught people looking. You didn’t mind. In fact, you welcomed it. Tonight was about forgetting the stress eating at you for a month.
The energy among your friends was electric. Baela and Rhaena were dancing with you, their laughter infectious. At the same time, Jace, Addam, and Cregan stayed close, joking and moving in rhythm with the music. Cregan, always the playful one, had spun you into a twirl at one point, his hands lingering on your waist as he leaned in to say something over the pounding music. Whatever he said made you laugh, throwing your head back with a carefree grin.
What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t have known—was that Aemond was there too.
He’d come with a few colleagues for a drink after a long week, not expecting to see anyone familiar. But when he caught a glimpse of you across the room, his breath hitched in his throat.
At first, he wasn’t sure it was you. The way the dim, coloured lights illuminated your skin and the confidence in the way you moved—it was like you were a different person. But then you turned, laughing at something Jace had said, and he saw your face fully. It was you.
Aemond froze.
His drink hovered in his hand, forgotten as he watched you from across the room. He’d never seen you like this before. Always so sweet and composed at family dinners, with your shy smiles and nervous laughs. But here, under the pulsing lights, you were... different. Bold. Glowing.
The tight dress, the way it clung to your body, showed off every curve in a way that was impossible to ignore. Your makeup highlighted your features, giving you an edge he’d never associated with you before. He tried to look away—he really did—but his eye kept drifting back to you.
And then, there were the men.
Jace stood too close, his arm brushing yours as he leaned in to speak. Addam rested his hand on your back while you danced, his touch lingering just a little too long for Aemond’s liking. And Cregan—Cregan’s hands had been on your waist, and the way you’d laughed with him made Aemond’s jaw tighten.
It was irrational, he knew that. He had no claim to you. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you like this. You were his girlfriend’s younger sister, for God’s sake. He’d always thought of you as a beautiful girl, sure, but nothing more. He respected you. Admired you, even, for your wit and kindness. But now...
Now, he felt something stirring in his chest that he didn’t want to admit.
Jealousy.
He took a slow sip of his drink, forcing himself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around him. But the loud chatter of his colleagues faded into the background as his gaze betrayed him yet again. There you were, laughing and swaying to the music, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.
It was infuriating.
The way your hips moved, the way your friends surrounded you, protective but also playful—it all drove him to distraction. He clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on his glass. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way.
But as he watched Jace pull you closer, his hand brushing your arm, something inside Aemond snapped.
He tore his gaze away, breathing deeply to steady himself. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this. You were off-limits, untouchable. He had to get his head straight before anyone noticed the turmoil inside him.
But no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else, his eye kept returning to you.
The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant chirping of birds outside. Your parents had gone on one of their weekend camping trips, leaving the house to you, your sister, and Aemond. It wasn’t the first time he’d stayed over for a few days, but this time felt... different.
Aemond sat on the living room couch with a book in hand, though he hadn’t turned the page in what felt like hours. He wasn’t even reading—his mind was elsewhere. Or rather, his eye was.
You were in the kitchen, moving around with a casual grace that had him transfixed. You’d come downstairs earlier in shorts that hugged your legs and a fitted tank top that clung to your figure. It wasn’t an unusual outfit for a hot summer day, but to him, it might as well have been something far more provocative.
He tried to ignore it, to remind himself of who you were and why he had no right to be looking at you like this. But no matter how many times he told himself to focus on the book in his lap or the conversation your sister was trying to have with him, his eye kept straying back to you.
You leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling on your phone, your legs crossed at the ankle. The way the sunlight streaming through the window highlighted your bare skin made his chest tighten. Was this what he’d been blind to all this time?
It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed you before. He wasn’t a fool—he’d always known you were beautiful. But there had been a line he never allowed himself to cross. You were her sister, and that fact had always been enough to keep his thoughts in check.
Until now.
The image of you at the club last night was still burned into his mind. The way you’d looked, moved, laughed. It had unlocked something in him, something he didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t deny any longer. Seeing you like this—so casual, so natural—only made it worse. You didn’t have to try to captivate him; you just did.
His eye drifted down your legs again, lingering before he forced himself to look away. He shifted in his seat, adjusting the book in his lap to hide the tension building in his body. This was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. He needed to snap out of it.
Your sister was sitting next to him, chatting about something mundane—dinner plans, or maybe a movie she wanted to watch later—but he wasn’t listening. He nodded occasionally, muttering an “Mm” or “Yeah” to feign interest, but his focus was elsewhere on you.
You moved from the counter to the fridge, opening it and bending slightly to grab something from the lower shelf. Aemond’s jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the edges of his book. He closed his eye, inhaling deeply.
This wasn’t serious, he told himself. It wasn’t anything more than a fleeting, physical reaction—an inconvenient trick of his own mind. That was all it was. He just needed to forget about it, to push these thoughts aside and focus on the woman sitting right next to him.
He glanced at your sister, forcing himself to look at her properly. She smiled at him, unaware of the storm raging inside his head. She deserved better than this. Better than a boyfriend whose thoughts were straying somewhere they had no business going.
But even as he tried to ground himself, his resolve crumbled the moment he heard your laugh from the kitchen. It was soft and melodic, and it pulled his attention like a magnet.
Aemond clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting—not at you, but at himself. He couldn’t let this continue. He wouldn’t. He had to stop looking at you, stop thinking about you like this, stop letting these dangerous thoughts worm their way into his head.
Because if he didn’t... he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.
You hummed softly to yourself as you moved about the kitchen, entirely unaware of the way Aemond’s eye followed you from the couch. To you, it was just another lazy summer day. The sunlight was warm against your skin, and the cool tile beneath your bare feet felt grounding as you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
Your thoughts were far from the man sitting in the living room. You were still replaying moments from last night—how much fun you’d had with your friends, the way the music pulsed through you, and how free you’d felt dancing without a care. A soft smile played on your lips as you leaned back against the counter, scrolling through your phone to check messages from Baela and Rhaena.
In the living room, Aemond was trying his best to act normal, but his focus kept slipping. His gaze kept drifting toward you as you opened the bottle of water, tilted your head back, and took a sip, the motion somehow more graceful than it had any right to be. His grip on the book tightened when a single bead of water escaped from the corner of your mouth, trailing down your neck before you wiped it away with the back of your hand.
And you had no idea.
You were completely oblivious to the effect you were having on him, continuing your day as though nothing had changed. You even smiled once or twice when a funny text came through from Cregan. He could hear your soft chuckles from where he sat, and it only made his chest feel tighter.
Your sister, on the other hand, wasn’t oblivious.
She’d been talking to him for a while now—something about a new show she wanted him to watch with her. But Aemond’s noncommittal responses and wandering eye hadn’t escaped her notice.
With an audible sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“Aemond,” she said sharply, drawing his attention back to her.
He blinked, startled out of his daze. “Hm?”
“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, her tone tinged with irritation.
“Of course,” he replied smoothly, though the faintest flicker of guilt flashed across his face.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “I’ve been talking for five minutes, and you haven’t said anything other than ‘yeah’ or ‘hmm.’ What’s going on with you today?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, his tone calm but firm. “I’m just... distracted, that’s all.”
From the corner of your eye, you noticed the tension brewing between them, though you didn’t pay it much mind. Your sister could be dramatic sometimes, and you figured Aemond was probably just tired or preoccupied with work.
You turned your attention back to your phone, scrolling aimlessly, as they continued their conversation. Aemond gave your sister a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eye.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice low and measured. “I’ll pay better attention.”
You glanced up briefly, watching as your sister sighed again, this time more softly. She gave him a small, forgiving smile and leaned against his shoulder, though her frustration was still evident in the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.
Aemond placed a hand on her knee, offering her a gesture of reassurance, but even then, his gaze flickered back to the kitchen for a fleeting second.
You didn’t catch it.
If you had, you might’ve noticed the way his eye lingered on you longer than it should have. You might’ve seen the subtle tension in his jaw or the way his grip on the book tightened whenever you moved. But you didn’t.
A few hours had passed. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears and made every creak of the floorboards seem louder than it should have been. Your sister had stormed out hours ago, muttering something about going to her friend’s house because Aemond was “being impossible.” She hadn’t said goodbye, slamming the door behind her as she left, leaving him alone in the house.
You weren’t there, either. You’d gone out not long after your sister, leaving Aemond to his own devices. At first, he’d relished the solitude, thinking it would give him a chance to clear his head, to wrestle his unruly thoughts back into submission. But as the hours ticked by, the stillness of the house only amplified his unease.
He tried to distract himself—reading, pacing, scrolling through his phone—but nothing worked. His thoughts kept drifting, circling back to you. The way you’d looked this morning, so effortlessly beautiful in your shorts and tank top, the sun catching on your hair as you leaned against the kitchen counter. The sound of your laugh. The way you hadn’t even seemed to notice him watching you.
Eventually, his restless wandering brought him to the hallway outside your bedroom. He hadn’t meant to stop there and hadn’t even realized where his feet had carried him until he was standing in front of your closed door.
For a moment, he just stared at it.
It would be wrong. He knew that. This was your space, your private sanctuary, and he had no business intruding. But curiosity gnawed at him, whispering in the back of his mind. What would your room be like? Would it reflect the parts of you he already knew—bright, sweet, and warm? Or would it reveal something more, something deeper that he hadn’t yet seen?
Before he could stop himself, his hand was on the doorknob.
He hesitated, his fingers brushing the cool metal as a flicker of guilt sparked in his chest. But the pull was too strong, and before he could second-guess himself, he turned the knob and stepped inside.
The scent of you hit him first—soft and delicate, with hints of vanilla and something floral. It was subtle but unmistakable, wrapping around him like a tether. He closed the door behind him, his movements slow and deliberate as he took in the space.
Your room was... you. A mix of carefully chosen decor and personal touches that spoke volumes about who you were. The bed was neatly made, a throw blanket draped over the edge. A few framed photos sat on the nightstand—one of you with Baela and Rhaena, another of you and your family on some beach vacation.
His eye caught on your desk, cluttered with notebooks, pens, and a half-empty coffee cup. There were sticky notes scattered across the surface, some with neat handwriting and others with quick, messy scrawls. He moved closer, his gaze skimming over the notes—random reminders, lists, a doodle of a little flower in the corner of one page.
Aemond’s fingers hovered over one of the notebooks, itching to pick it up, but he held back. Even in this moment of weakness, he knew he couldn’t cross that line.
Instead, his gaze drifted to your bed again. He didn’t mean to linger, but his mind betrayed him, conjuring an image of you lying there, your hair splayed across the pillow, your soft breathing filling the quiet. He clenched his fists at his sides, shaking his head as if to physically rid himself of the thought.
This was dangerous.
He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t even be thinking about you like this. You were his girlfriend’s sister, and that fact should have been enough to keep him out of this room, out of this situation altogether. But it wasn’t. Not anymore.
Next thing he knows, he's opening your drawers. Gods, is he really this depraved? His girlfriend's younger sister. Yet here he is, looking through her stuff, closet and cupboards like a sick pervert.
But what he found in your bedside table's bottom drawer made his heart stop. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as he stares down at the contents of the drawer, his eye widening in shock and a sudden surge of desire. He can't believe what he's seeing—nearly a dozen sex toys are neatly arranged inside, from sleek vibrators to thick, veiny dildos in various shapes and sizes. Some are made of smooth silicone in soft, inviting colours, while others are harder plastic or glass, glinting under the light spilling from the hallway. Little pots of lube are tucked between the toys, the labels promising special effects and intense sensations.
Aemond swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry as the desert. He can't look away, transfixed by the erotic display before him. It's like opening Pandora's box and finding a trove of forbidden delights, each promising pleasures. The heat that had been simmering low in his belly since he first laid an eye on you in the kitchen now roars to life, his cock stiffening rapidly and straining against the confines of his jeans.
He reaches out with a slightly shaking hand, tracing the smooth curve of the largest dildo with his fingertips. It's bigger than any cock he's ever seen, the thick shaft tapering to a bulbous, textured head. The thought of you using this beast, stretching yourself around it, sends a bolt of lust straight to his groin. He'd never felt such a primal, animalistic urge before.
What he wouldn't give to bury himself inside your tight heat, to feel your walls gripping him like a vice as he fucked you into oblivion. He wants to hear you scream, to beg, to chant his name until you're hoarse. The image of you, naked and spread open for him, pleading for his cock, is seared into his mind.
But it's the vibrators that really make his mouth go dry and his cock throb insistently against his zipper. Sleek and streamlined, they're made for one purpose only—to stimulate and Tease your most sensitive spots until you're writhing and screaming in ecstasy. He pictures you using them, touching yourself in your most intimate places, and it makes him want to drop to his knees and bury his face between your thighs, to lap at your dripping cunt til you're on the verge of passing out.
Aemond's breath grows heavier as he reaches for a small, discreet vibrator, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. It's matte black and barely the size of his thumb, with a narrow tip that tapers down to a point. The thought of this little device buzzing against your sensitive clit, reducing you to a desperate, writhing mess, makes Aemond groan under his breath. He can picture it so clearly—you splayed out on your bed, legs spread wide as you tease yourself closer and closer to the edge, your body slick with sweat and arousal.
Unable to resist, Aemond presses the button and holds it against his thumb, gasping as the intense vibrations shoot up his arm. Fuck, he can only imagine how incredible that would feel against your intimate flesh, how it would make you moan and plead for more. He turns the toy off and tosses it back into the drawer, his balls aching and his cock throbbing almost painfully.
He needed you. As soon as possible. He couldn't wait any longer, and he knew that.
You pushed open the front door, the loud click echoing through the silent house. You quickly kicked off your sneakers, not bothering to aim for the shoe rack, and hurried upstairs to wash the grime off your hands. As you scrubbed your skin clean, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, a prickling sensation running down your spine.
Stepping out of the bathroom, you made your way down the hallway to your room. You pushed open the door, expecting to find the usual mess of sheets not done on the bed and books piled haphazardly on the desk. Instead, you froze in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat.
There, sitting on the edge of your bed with a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face, was Aemond. His eye, usually so cold and distant, was now burning into mine with an intensity that made your heart race. You swallowed hard, your shaky breath echoing in the sudden silence of the room.
"W-what are you doing here, Aemond?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, a deep blush spreading across your skin as you took in his imposing figure. He looked devastatingly handsome, his tall frame dwarfing your modest bed.
You crossed your arms over your chest instead as you waited for his response. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your body, trailing over your curves, and you suddenly wished you had worn something more than just a simple t-shirt and shorts. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed.
Nearly trembling, you waited for his answer, your heart pounding frantically. You knew you should be wary of his intentions, but you couldn't help the flutter of anticipation that filled your belly. Being alone with Aemond like this was terrifying and exhilarating, and you found yourself wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to feel his strong hands on your body, to have him pull you close and capture your lips with his own.
Aemond's gaze drags over your body, lingering on the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. He drinks in every inch of you, his eye glinting with a hunger that makes your skin prickle and your pussy drip. When his eye meets yours, it's darkened with desire, a fierce intensity that steals your breath.
"Tell me, little doe. What fun things do you have in your drawer?" He asked, his voice a low rumble. He stands slowly, his tall frame unfolding until he's towering over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the
Aemond takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. His tall, muscular frame looms over you, making you feel small and delicate in comparison. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race wildly in your chest.
"I couldn't help but notice what you have tucked away in there," he continues, his voice a low, lust-roughened murmur. "Such... interesting toys. And I found myself curious about what a sweet little thing like you could possibly do with them."
He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shiver at his touch, your body responding to him in a way that thrills and terrifies you.
Aemond leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Tell me, little doe, have you used them? Have you touched this sexy little body, teasing yourself in all the naughty ways you imagine I would?"
His hand slides lower, skimming over the curve of your waist and resting on the flare of your hip. He grips you possessively, pulling you a step closer to him. You can feel the hard, thick length of him pressing against your belly, and it makes your core flood with heat and desire.
"Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Do you imagine it's my hands on your body, my fingers buried deep inside your tight little cunt?" Aemond's voice is a dark, sinful purr. "Is that why you have all those toys? To imagine it's me fucking you?"
You stare at Aemond in disbelief, your eyes flashing with anger and outrage. "How dare you!" You hiss, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You can't just go snooping through my private things like that, you... you pervert!"
"You're my sister's boyfriend, for God's sake!" You continue to yell, ignoring the traitorous part of you that exhilarates at his proximity and the evidence of his desire. "You had no right to go through my stuff like that. That's a total violation of my privacy and trust!"
Despite the anger coursing through you, you can't ignore the electricity crackling between you, the way his proximity makes your heart race. You know you should step back and put distance between you, but you find yourself rooted to the spot, your body swaying closer to his as if drawn by a magnet.
"Answer me, Aemond," you demand, your voice shaking slightly as you glare up at him. "What gave you the right to invade my space like that? Are you really that big of a fucking creep?"
Aemond's smirk only grows wider at your outburst, clearly amused by your anger rather than cowed by it. He doesn't move away from you, instead leaning in even closer until you can feel his breath hot on your face.
"You're right, little doe, I shouldn't have gone through your things without permission," he admits with a shrug, not sounding particularly apologetic. "But I must say, the temptation was just too great. When I saw what you had hidden away, all those toys designed to bring pleasure to a pretty little thing like you... I couldn't resist imagining all the ways I could put them to better use."
He reaches up, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to brush along your jawline. His touch is maddeningly gentle, a sharp contrast to the aggressive way he invaded your space.
"I've seen the way you look at me," Aemond murmurs, his voice a low, sinful purr. "The hunger in your eyes, the longing. You think I don't notice, but I do. I see how you watch me, how your gaze lingers on me... and I know you want me."
His hand slides down from your jaw to your throat, his thumb brushing your racing pulse. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest, your skin flushing hotter at his touch and the dark promise in his words.
"So yes, I'm a creep for snooping. But you're not exactly innocent, are you, little one?" Aemond's grin turns wicked, his eye glinting with cruel amusement. "Do you think about me when you use those toys? Have you imagined it was my big, hard cock stretching out your tight little cunt, filling you up in a way no vibrator ever could?"
He leans in even closer, his lips a hairsbreadth away from yours. You can feel the heat of him, smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne and the faint musk of arousal beneath. Your mouth goes dry as you stare at him, your body trembling with anger and desire.
You opened your mouth to deny his accusation, to rage at him for invading not just your room, but your most private thoughts... but the words stuck in your throat.
Because he was right. God help you, but every single time you brought yourself to the edge with your vibrator buzzing between my thighs, every moment you lost yourself in the throes of your own touch... You thought of him. He and the way he would take you, dominate you, make you scream and beg for more until you were hoarse.
You wanted to rage at him, to slap that smug smirk off his handsome face. You wanted to tell him he was nothing but a creep, a pervert to snoop through your things like that. But you couldn't. Because the truth was, you had wanted him from the moment he first walked into your life.
Aemond only had eyes for her, and it had driven you mad with jealousy and desire.
Now here he was, looming over you, his tall powerful frame making you feel small. You couldn't deny it, not when your body was betraying you, trembling and aching for his touch.
"No... I haven't," you muttered, hating how weak and breathless you sounded. Is this really all the restraint you had? All the strength you could muster? A single breathless denial uttered in a voice barely above a whisper?
Aemond's grin widens, his eye glinting with triumph as he sees the truth in yours. He knows he's getting to you, breaking through your defences with his assertive words and the sheer force of his presence.
"Liar," he chuckles darkly, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I've seen the way you look at me, the hunger in your eyes. I know you want me, little doe. Just as much as I want you."
His hand slides down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric to brush against the soft skin of your waist. You gasp, your stomach muscles fluttering at his touch, and he grins wickedly.
"I'm going to use all these toys on you, little doe. I'm going to make you scream and beg and cry for my cock until you can no longer form a single thought."
His other hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "Get on the bed, now."
Aemond's fingers tighten on your chin, his nails digging into your soft skin. "Or... you can leave, and we'll forget any of this ever happened. Which will it be?"
He steps back, his arms crossed over his broad chest, waiting for you to choose.
You feel your cheeks burning with humiliation as you reluctantly make your way to the bed, each step heavy with the weight of your shameful desire. You perch on the edge of the mattress, your hands trembling as you lay back against the plush pillows.
You gaze up at Aemond, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. It's mortifying, allowing your sister's boyfriend to have this kind of power over you, to reduce you to a quivering mess with just a few words and a heated glance.
Your legs quiver as you slowly spread them, a subconscious invitation that you are powerless to resist. You can feel the cool air of the room against your heated skin, and you thank the gods that he can't see the damp patch darkening the crotch of your panties through your jeans, betraying the shameful arousal he's evoking in you.
Aemond's eye darkens as he watches you reluctantly lay back on the bed, your body trembling with fear and anticipation. He can see the humiliation etched on your beautiful face, the way your cheeks are flushed a deep, rosy red. It only makes him want you more, knowing that he's the one who's reduced you to this desperate, needy state.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low, approving rumble. He reaches out and trails his fingers up your inner thigh, the light touch making you jump and gasp.
The sight makes his cock throb almost painfully in his jeans, a damp patch of pre-cum beginning to soak through the fabric. He wants nothing more than to bury himself between your thighs, to feel your wet heat gripping him like a vice as he fucks you hard and fast, claiming you as his own.
But he restrains himself, wanting to take his time with you, to make you beg for his cock before he gives it to you. A wicked grin spreads across his handsome face as he leans over you, his elbows resting on either side of your head. He's so close that you can feel his breath hot on your face, smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne and the faint musk of his arousal.
Aemond smirks as he backs off and reaches into the drawer, pulling out a large, thick dildo and a bottle of lube. He turns back to you, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body as he stalks closer to the bed.
"Let's start with this one, shall we?" he murmurs, holding up the hefty toy. It's long, girthy, tapered at the end, made of a firm but flexible silicone. He sets it down on the bed beside you before grabbing the lube bottle.
"I want you to take off your clothes," Aemond orders, his voice a low, commanding growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Slowly. Let me enjoy the show."
Your heart races as you slowly peel off your top, revealing inch after inch of soft skin. You take your time, letting the fabric drag teasingly over your sensitive flesh until your tank top falls to the floor. Next, you shimmy out of your shorts with your legs raised in the air. You can feel Aemond's intense gaze burning into you the entire time, drinking in every bit of skin you expose.
You know you should feel ashamed for being so exposed in front of your sister's boyfriend, but you can't. Not when the hunger in his eye makes you feel desired, craving his touch and his approval.
Biting your lip, you reluctantly slide your panties down your legs, leaving you bare before him. You can feel the cool air of the room against your heated flesh, making you shiver and your nipples tighten into stiff, aching peaks.
Your face flushes hotly, as you lay back on the bed, trying to cover yourself instinctively with your hands. But you force yourself to relax, to let him look his fill as he stands over you, his tall form dwarfing yours.
"Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."
He reaches out, dragging a single finger down the centre of your body, from the hollow of your throat, down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping just above your bare mound. Your skin prickles and flushes under his touch, your body reacting viscerally to his presence.
Aemond's hand drifts between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your slick folds. A low groan escapes him at the feel of you, so wet and ready. He can feel the heat radiating off your core, the evidence of your shameful arousal.
"That's it, little one," he murmurs, his fingers teasing your slit, not yet delving inside. "This is what I do to you. This is how much you want me."
He pushes a single finger inside your tight channel, pumping it slowly as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles hard, his tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bud until it's stiff and aching. All the while, his finger continues to thrust into you, curling and stroking your inner walls until you're squirming beneath him.
He withdraws his finger, and you whimper at the loss, your hips rolling up in a desperate attempt to follow the warmth of his touch. But Aemond just smirks, bringing his slick finger to his lips and licking your arousal from the digit.
He nips at your earlobe before straightening up and grabbing the bottle of lube. He uncaps it and squeezes out a generous amount onto his fingers, the clear gel dripping down onto your stomach.
"Spread your legs wider for me, little doe," Aemond orders, his eye gleaming with dark promise. "I want to see all of you. I want to see that pretty cunt that's going to be stretched wide around that thick dildo of yours."
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the huge, girthy pink dildo in Aemond's strong hands, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
"Aemond," you whimper, your voice small and breathless. You can feel your cheeks burning with humiliation, he must think you're some kind of depraved nymphomaniac with the sheer volume of sex toys and adult items you own. But you can't deny the shameful thrill that shoots through you at the thought of him using one of them on you, claiming you in the most intimate of ways.
You bite your lip hard, trying to stifle the needy moan that threatens to spill from your throat as you watch him slick up the thick shaft, the clear lube glistening obscenely in the light. You know Aemond is a dominant, intense lover who leaves your sister thoroughly satisfied every single time, as were her words. But now it was finally your turn. It was you who he was lusting over now.
"Shh, I will make you feel good," Aemond murmurs, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm on the bed. "I'm going to please your body until you beg me to stop..."
He takes the slick dildo and traces the flared head teasingly along your slit, coating it in your dripping arousal. The sensation makes you gasp and shudder, your hips rolling up to chase the contact. Aemond just chuckles darkly, amused by your desperate reactions.
"Look at this greedy cunt, so hungry for something to fill it," he taunts, pushing the bulbous tip just inside your entrance. He holds it there, letting you feel the stretch, the pressure as he slowly sinks the thick toy deeper and deeper into your core.
Your walls flutter and clench, adjusting to the size. You can feel every ridge, every vein and contour of the toy as it sinks deeper, until finally, with a lewd squelch, the thick base settles against your mound.
Aemond stares down at where you're now stuffed full, the dildo stretching your belly slightly and your lips puffy and slick with lube and your own arousal. His eyes blaze with a hunger that makes your core spasm around the toy.
"That's my good girl," he praises, his voice a low, sinful purr.
Your eyes flutter shut, a breathy moan escaping your lips as the thick dildo starts to move inside you. "Ohhh!" I gasp, your back arching off the bed as it stretches your walls deliciously. You can feel every ridge and vein dragging against your sensitive flesh, the sensation overwhelming in the best way possible.
He starts pumping it faster, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream, drool leaking from the corner of your lips. Your tongue lolls out as you lose yourself in the intense pleasure, and your mind starts to go blissfully blank.
"Ahhh, fuck..." you whimper, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as the toy plunges deeper, visible through your stomach. You haven't used this particular one in ages, but it feels incredible, the stretch bordering on too much but somehow just right.
Your nails dig into the sheets beneath you, gripping them for dear life as Aemond fucks you hard and fast with the thick dildo. You can feel your pussy gripping greedily around the toy, trying to hold onto it, to keep it deep inside your aching core.
"Mmm, listen to these slutty little noises spilling from your mouth," Aemond taunts, his voice a low, amused rumble. "You're loving this, aren't you? Loving the feel of that big, hard toy stretching out this greedy cunt."
He keeps fucking you hard with the toy, the obscene sound of it pounding into your soaked cunt filling the room. His other hand comes down to your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly as he pinches and tugs at your nipple.
"So fucking sexy," he murmurs, licking his lips as he stares down at you writhing on the bed. He reaches over to the drawer, grabbing a small vibrator. He pulls the dildo out of your dripping pussy with a wet plop, leaving you empty and aching.
Aemond turns the vibrator on, the buzz filling the room as he brings it down to your sensitive, swollen clit. He circles the sensitive nub with the toy, the intense stimulation making your back arch clean off the bed.
You cry out as the vibrator assaults your over-sensitive clit. Pleasure shoots through you like lightning, teasing you to the brink of ecstasy. "You're... ahhhh! You're torturing me!" you gasp. Tears of overwhelmed sensation prick at the corners of your eyes as they squeeze shut.
Aemond smirks wickedly, amused by your desperate cries and the way your body writhes beneath his ministrations. He increases the intensity of the vibrations against your clit, watching with sadistic glee as your pussy clenches and flutters around nothing, aching for something to grip onto.
"Torture is such a strong word," he purrs, his voice a low, sinful rumble. "I prefer to think of it as... worship."
Aemond grins wickedly, enjoying the power he holds over you. "Don't you dare come until I allow it," he commands, his voice a dark, dominant growl. He leans close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Not until I say so. Understand?"
"Please, I can't-!" you sob, your back arching almost painfully as you try in vain to buck the vibrator away. But Aemond is too strong, pinning your hips down as he holds the toy mercilessly against your throbbing clit. The pleasure is exquisite agony, pushing you to the brink of what you can withstand.
Aemond smirks cruelly, enjoying the way you thrash and sob beneath him, your cries like music to his ears. He can see the desperation in your eyes, the way your body trembles and shakes as you teeter on the edge of climax. But he doesn't relent, determined to push you further, to make you beg for the release he's denying you.
"Not yet," he growls, his voice rough with dominance. He grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "You don't get to come until I say so, little one. You're going to hold it together for me, no matter how much it hurts."
To punctuate his words, he increases the vibration of the toy, the buzzing noise growing louder as he grinds it harder against your sensitive clit. Your vision blurs, tears streaming down your face, but Aemond doesn't stop. He keeps the vibrator pressed against you, watching as your body writhes and bucks beneath him.
Aemond leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. The heat of his breath mingles with the cold sting of your tears, making you shiver. "Beg," he whispers, his voice low and dark.
"P-Pl-," you manage to choke out between gasps and sobs, your nails digging into Aemond's muscular forearms as you cling to him for dear life. "Please, I can't... I'm going to..." You can feel your clit pulsing almost violently, your juices leaking out of you to stain the sheets beneath your quivering body.
You're teetering on the edge, but you know you can't come without his permission. "Aemond," you whimper, staring at him with pleading, hazy eyes. "Please, I need... I need..." you can't even finish your sentence, too consumed by the overwhelming sensations to form coherent words. You can only pray that he'll grant you the release you so desperately crave.
Aemond's eye glints with cruel amusement as he watches you struggle to hold back your impending climax, your body trembling and shaking with the effort. He can see the desperation etched on your beautiful face, hear it in your choked pleas, and it fills him with a dark sense of satisfaction.
He grinds the vibrator harder against your throbbing, swollen clit, the intense stimulation bordering on pain. Your pussy clenches and flutters wildly around nothing, aching to be filled, to be fucked hard and deep until you scream.
"No." He says with a wicked smirk.
He pulls the vibrator away from your aching cunt, leaving you empty and wanting. Your wail of protest turns into a high-pitched keen as the cool air hits your soaked, swollen folds. Aemond chuckles wickedly, enjoying the sight of you suffering.
He sets the vibrator aside and reaches into the drawer, rummaging through the various toys and implements. His eye gleams with cruel delight as he selects a few choice items, eager to put them to use on your helpless, over-stimulated body.
Turning back to you, Aemond holds up a textured G-spot stimulator and a set of black nipple clamps connected by a metal chain. A vicious smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he stares down at your trembling form.
"Looks like we have quite the collection here," he muses, tapping the toys against his palm. "I'm going to greatly enjoy... using every one of these." His voice drips with dark promise, sending shivers of mingled fear and anticipation down your spine.
You blink up at Aemond with wide, startled eyes, your heart pounding wildly in your heaving chest, looking like a wounded puppy, trembling and mewling for the mercy of your tormentor.
A fresh wave of panic and trepidation washes over you. You've only dared to use those wicked clamps on yourself once before, a secret sin you've kept hidden away, ashamed of your own desires. Now, here you are, laid bare before your sister's boyfriend, helpless and aching for his touch and dominance.
You know you should protest, should demand that he stop this depraved torment... but you can't. You can only feel perverted excitement.
Aemond smirks cruelly, enjoying the look of fearful anticipation on your face. Leaning down, Aemond takes one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down hard enough to make you yelp. He soothes the sting with his tongue, circling the abused bud before pulling back with a wicked grin.
He opens one of the clamps and fastens it around your nipple. He does the same to the other until your nipples are both trapped in the cruel vice, the cold chain between them dangling invitingly on your stomach.
Aemond tugs sharply on the chain, watching as you push out your breasts and cry out at the sudden burst of pleasure-pain.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm going to give you the pleasure you crave, little one. But you're going to have to earn it." His voice is low and dark, dripping with cruel promise.
Aemond reaches for the pink dildo from earlier. He rubs the head teasingly along your slit, coating it in your dripping arousal. "I want you to fuck yourself with this toy, nice and slow. Nice and deep," he orders, his voice a low growl. "And if you do a good job, maybe I'll let you come."
You take the thick pink dildo from Aemond's strong hands, your fingers trembling as they wrap around the girthy shaft. You can't help but let out a shaky sigh as you tease the bulbous head along your dripping slit, your eyes fluttering shut at the first touch of something solid against your aching, empty core.
Slowly, you start to sink the toy into your greedy cunt, biting your lip to stifle a moan as it stretches you open. You roll your hips, pushing it deeper, inch by inch disappearing inside you. Your head falls back as you lose yourself in the sensation.
"Fuuuuck," you breathe out, your voice a needy whimper. You start to move the dildo in and out, taking it slow and deep, just like Aemond ordered. Each thrust makes you gasp, your walls clenching greedily around the invading toy.
You look up at Aemond through your lashes, your eyes glossy.
"I do this every time you visit," you confess, your cheeks flushing pink. "I go to my room and fuck myself stupid with my toys, thinking it's you who's splitting me open, making me scream. I cream all over my sheets, wishing it was your cock buried deep inside me."
You keep fucking yourself with the dildo, angling it just right to hit that perfect spot inside you. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the clamps on your nipples moving with them enticingly. "Please, Aemond," you whine needily, "I want your cock so badly. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight until all I can do is drool and moan your name. Please, let me be your fucktoy..."
Aemond's eye darkens with lust at your confession, his cock throbbing almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. He can't believe the dirty, depraved things spilling from your lips, the way you openly admit to fucking yourself stupid, wishing it was him splitting you open, claiming your needy cunt.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls, "Fuck, you're such a dirty little girl, aren't you? I bet you'd let me do anything I wanted to this greedy body. Wouldn't you, hm?"
Aemond reaches down, grabbing the dildo as it plunges into your sopping wet cunt, spearing you open and making you cry out. He takes over, fucking you hard and fast with the thick toy, the obscene sound of it pounding into your dripping pussy filling the room.
"Louder," Aemond demands, slamming the toy even deeper. "I want to hear you scream for my cock, you shameless little whore. Let the whole neighbourhood know what a desperate slut you are for me."
He leans down, taking the metal chain between his teeth. He bites down, making you scream as he tugs sharply on it.
Broken moans and gasps are all you can manage as Aemond relentlessly pounds the pink plastic into your dripping, aching pussy. Your mind has gone completely blank, focused solely on the desperate, all-consuming need to feel his hard, throbbing cock filling you.
You can't form a coherent thought beyond my animalistic craving. The world has narrowed down to the exquisite agony of the clamps biting into your tender nipples, the obscene slap of plastic against your soaked folds, and the dark, dominant presence of the man wielding them.
Aemond's eye gleams with sadistic lust as he watches your pleasure climb, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of climax. He can see the desperation in your glassy, unfocused gaze, hear it in your broken, slutty moans. He knows he has you exactly where he wants you, teetering on the knife's edge of ecstasy, begging to be fucked stupid by his cock.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Beg me for it, slut. Beg me to fuck this needy cunt like the desperate little girl you are." Aemond punctuates his words with a sharp thrust of the dildo, grinding it against your throbbing G-spot.
"Please, please fuck me!" You sob, your hips bucking wildly against the toy, chasing your rapidly approaching climax. "I need your cock so badly, Aemond. I'm so fucking close. Please, please let me come on your cock. I want you to ruin me, fucking destroy me until I'm a drooling, cock-drunk mess. Please, I'm begging you! I can't fucking take this anymore."
You can feel your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around the thick shaft, splitting you open. But you know you can't come without Aemond's permission.
Aemond smirks cruelly, amused by your desperate, sobbing pleas. He can feel your greedy cunt clenching and fluttering around the dildo, your body trembling on the precipice of climax. But he's not ready to let you come just yet. Not until he's fully satisfied his own dark desires.
He pulls the toy out of your dripping pussy with a wet squelch, leaving you empty and aching. You wail and cry in protest, your cunt feeling abused and unsatisfied. Aemond chuckles wickedly, enjoying the sight of you suffering.
"You want to come, little slut?" Aemond purrs, his voice a dark, dominant rumble. "Then beg me properly. On your knees, hands behind your back, and put that filthy mouth to good use." He gestures to his straining erection, the thick outline of his cock clearly visible through his jeans.
You scramble off the bed, your heart pounding in anticipation as you kneel submissively before Aemond. You sit back on your heels, hands clasped behind your back just as he ordered, the picture of obedient eagerness.
Aemond lounges on the bed, the smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth, making your core clench with desire. You watch, hardly daring to breathe, as his hand unzips his jeans. Your eyes widen as his thick, hard cock springs free, the sight of it making your mouth water and your pussy throb.
"Please, Aemond," you breathe, your voice trembling with desperation. "Please let me worship your cock. I need to taste you. I promise I'll be a good girl, a perfect little cocksleeve for you to use however you want. Please let me show you how badly I want to please you." Even you were surprised by the filthy words spilling from your mouth, guys your own age could never get you to act like this, though they desperately tried to.
He reaches out, fisting his hand in your hair and forcing you to look up at him. "That's it, my dirty little slut," he purrs, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "Now put that filthy tongue to work and show me what a good little cocksucker you can be."
Aemond's fingers tighten in your hair as he slowly, teasingly drags his cock over your parted lips, leaving a trail of precum that makes your mouth water with desire. He can see the way your chest heaves with each ragged breath, your nipples straining against the cruel clamps, your pussy dripping with need.
You gaze up at Aemond with wide, pleading eyes, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. Opening your mouth wide, you extend your tongue, offering yourself for his use. You desperately need to prove to him that you can be an even better girl than your sister, that you can please and satisfy him in ways she never could.
"Fuck, look at you. Practically gagging for it, aren't you?" Aemond growls, fisting your hair tighter as he slowly, teasingly drags the swollen head of his cock over your extended tongue. He smears the leaking precum over your taste buds, letting you savour the salty, musky flavour of his arousal.
Aemond tugs your head forward, forcing your mouth open wider as he pushes the thick length of his dick past your lips. He holds you there, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion as your jaw stretches wide around his girth.
"That's it, slut. Take it all," Aemond snarls, slowly thrusting deeper until your nose presses against his pelvis and your lips stretch obscenely around his thick shaft. He holds you there, forcing you to breathe through your nose as he grinds his hips against your face, painting your throat with his musky scent.
"That's my good little girl," he praises, his voice a dark, dominant rumble. "Now start sucking, and don't you dare use your teeth. I want to feel that filthy tongue working for every inch of my dick."
You hollow your cheeks, sucking him with desperate enthusiasm as you swirl your tongue along the underside of his shaft. Each time your head bobs down, you make sure to brush your tongue teasingly across his heavy, cum-filled sack. The filthy slurping noises and occasional gags fill the room.
Your eyes water as you struggle to take his immense size, but you don't let up. Drool trickles down your chin messily as you cherish every thick, throbbing inch of Aemond's dick with single-minded focus.
"That's my perfect little cocksleeve," he praises. "Such a good girl, choking on my dick."
He can feel every swirl and flick of your tongue, the desperate way you worship his shaft like your life depends on it. He starts to thrust into your mouth, fucking your face with deep, powerful strokes. His heavy balls slap obscenely against your chin with each pump of his hips, leaving your skin flushed and sticky with your own drool.
"That's it, take my cock like the greedy slut you are," Aemond snarls, his fingers tightening in your hair as he sets a brutal pace. "Fuck, your sister could never take it this deep. You're a natural-born cocksucker, aren't you?"
Aemond yanks your head back by the hair, pulling you off his spit-soaked dick with a wet pop. Strings of drool connect your swollen, well-used lips to his throbbing shaft. He smirks down at you, taking in the debauched sight of your glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and the way your tits heave with each panting breath.
"Good girl," he praises darkly, rubbing the leaking head of his cock over your messy face, smearing his precum across your cheekbones like some sick war paint.
You choke and sputter as Aemond wrenches you off his throbbing shaft, gasping desperately for air. Tears and mascara streak your flushed cheeks while your chin and chest glisten with drool. You look up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes, your voice hoarse from the thorough face-fucking he just gave you.
"T-thank you," you rasp out, your lower lip trembling slightly as you try to catch your breath. "Thank you for using my mouth as it was meant to be used... and for seeing the difference between me and my sister. I promise I'll always be a better girl for you, Aemond. Your perfect little cocksucker."
Aemond smirks down at you, taking in the debauched sight of your tear-stained, spit-smeared face. He can see the desperation and hunger in your glazed eyes, the way you gaze up at him like he's your entire world. And he knows he has you exactly where he wants you - addicted to his cock, craving his approval, and willing to do anything to be his perfect little fucktoy.
"Such a good girl," he purrs, petting your hair almost affectionately. "You've got quite the talented little mouth on you. I think I'll have to put it to good use more often."
Aemond reaches down, grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "And don't worry about your sister. She could never compare to you, baby. You're one of a kind, a natural-born slut for cock."
You gaze up at Aemond with adoring eyes, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as he praises you. His perverted words make you feel cherished, and desired, in a twisted way. You can't help but blush prettily at the compliment.
"Does that mean you're going to fuck me now?" You breathe out, the desperate words slipping past your swollen lips before you can stop them. "Please... I need it. Please."
Aemond smirks wickedly as he hears your desperate plea, amused by your shameless begging. He can see the way your tits heave with each panting breath, your nipples straining against the cruel clamps. The evidence of your arousal is clear - your pussy is dripping and aching, your hips squirming with need.
"You want to get fucked?" Aemond murmurs, his voice a dark rumble. "Get on the bed. Upper body off the bed," he commands, leaving no room for argument.
Aemond watches with sadistic amusement as you scramble to obey, your trembling body quickly taking its place on the bed, upper body dangling helplessly. Your hair falls in a tousled mess across the floor. The position leaves your cunt open and exposed on a lewd display. Your heart pounds wildly against your ribs as anticipation coils tightly in your stomach.
He can see your little slit glistening, just begging to be fucked hard and deep. The anticipation is killing him, but he wants to draw this out, to make you suffer with desire before he finally gives you what you want.
Leaning down, Aemond drags his cockhead up your slit, collecting your dripping arousal. He teases your entrance, pushing just the tip inside before pulling back out. Over and over, he repeats this maddening process, letting you feel the shape and size of his cock, but denying you the deep, hard thrusts you crave.
You sob out in desperation, your body shaking uncontrollably, as he teases you mercilessly. "N-no, please, Aemond! Stop, I can't take it anymore!" Tears sting your eyes and stream down your cheeks.
Every brush of his thick cock against your aching, swollen slit sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You've never been this sensitive, this wound up, before. The constant denial has left your nerve endings raw and exposed, craving release.
You can feel your orgasm building at an alarming rate just from his maddening teasing, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around nothing. If he doesn't stop, you swear you'll cum just from this alone, the shame of it only adding to your desperate arousal.
Aemond smirks cruelly, amused by your tearful pleas and the way your body writhes beneath his teasing touch. He can feel your cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for his cock, and it fills him with a sadistic sense of power.
"Stop? Oh no, baby," he purrs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "We're just getting started."
He reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing the thick g-spot vibrator he showed you earlier. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he runs the textured tip along your dripping slit, coating it in your essence.
"This feels good, doesn't it? The way it rubs against your desperate little clit, making you shake and moan?" Aemond murmurs, circling the sensitive bud with the toy. "I'm going to use this on you next time, forcing you to cum over and over again while I watch. But for now..."
Aemond trails the vibrator up your body, brushing it over your sensitive nipples, making you gasp and writhe. He smirks as he smears it across your face, painting your cheeks and chin with your juices.
"I think it's time I fucked this needy cunt properly."
You gasped as he pushed you even further off the edge of the bed now, your heart pounding wildly in my chest as you felt like you might tumble to the floor at any moment. You hold your breath, trembling like crazy as Aemond looms over you, kneeling between my splayed thighs, gripping them tight against his body.
He's taking his sweet time, enjoying the sight of you, all vulnerable and aching for his touch.
You whimper softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to be brave. You want to be a good girl for him. How much you need him to ruin your fuckhole, to claim you so thoroughly that you'll be forever changed.
Aemond takes his time, drinking in the debauched sight of you trembling and aching for his touch. He grips your thighs tighter, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pushes them further apart, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze.
He can see your little hole clenching around nothing, drooling with desperation, and it makes his cock jump with the need to be buried inside you.
Leaning down, Aemond drags the head of his cock along your slit, teasing your entrance with the promise of finally filling you. He smirks as he feels you shudder against him, knowing you're seconds away from coming undone.
Without warning, he slams forward, burying his thick cock to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Your scream of pleasure and pain mixes with the obscene squelch of your pussy being split open, your hungry pussy clenching down on his invading shaft.
He doesn't give you time to adjust and starts pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes that rock your entire body.
Your screams fill the air as Aemond ruts into you like a wild beast possessed, each powerful thrust shaking your body to its core. You feel like a helpless ragdoll being tossed about by his relentless pace. Waves of intense pleasure radiate through your nerves, pushing you shockingly close to that edge you've been teetering on.
"Oh god, Aemond!" you cry out, your voice raw and breathless from the brutal fucking. "I'm... I'm going to cum!" Tears prick the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock finally pounding mercilessly into your tight, dripping cunt. You can feel yourself starting to gush around his pistoning shaft, your pussy clenching down on him as your orgasm builds.
Aemond lets out a dark chuckle, amused by your desperate, tearful confession. "Cumming already, baby? I haven't even really started yet," he taunts, punctuating his words with a sharp, brutal thrust. The head of his cock slams into your cervix, making you scream, your pussy clenching down hard in response.
He smirks wickedly at the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him like a silken vice. "Such a needy little cocksleeve, so hungry for my dick. I bet you'll cum a dozen times before I'm done with you."
You're sobbing now, tears streaming back into your hair as you lay upside down, utterly impaled on Aemond's massive, pulsing cock. "I-I'm so s-sorry," you choke out between haggard breaths, voice raw and wrecked. "Your cock...it f-feels...oh god...s-so good inside me!"
You can feel your climax building, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around his pistoning shaft. "I-I've wanted...haahh...your cock...for s-so long, Aemond," you confess shamelessly, too lost in ecstasy to care how desperate you sound. "Please...please let me cum...I need it...I need you...so badly!" You're voice rises in pitch, the words dissolving into a wail of pure, unadulterated bliss as you teeter on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm.
Aemond grins wickedly as he feels your pussy spasming uncontrollably around his plunging cock, your tearful pleas music to his ears. He loves the way you beg and sob, completely unravelled and at the mercy of his merciless fucking.
"Do it then, you dirty girl," he growls, slamming into you with brutal force. "Cum all over my dick like the desperate slut you are. Show me what a cock-drunk whore you really are."
You screamed in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clamping down on Aemond's pistoning cock like a vice. Cream gushed out of you, flooding his shaft and dripping down onto the sheets as you trembled and convulsed.
"Ahh!" you wailed, tears of pure pleasure streaming down your face as he fucked you ruthlessly through your high. Your body shook and quaked as you surrendered completely to the mind-blowing sensations consuming you.
"Aemond!" You cried out, your voice raw and wrecked. "Oh god, yes! Don't stop, please don't stop!" Now you knew that only Aemond could make you feel this way, could fuck you with such brutal intensity that you forgot your own name.
Aemond grins wickedly, as he feels your pussy spasm and clench around him, your juices gushing out and coating his pistoning shaft. He doesn't let up, fucking you ruthlessly through your intense orgasm, determined to draw out your pleasure and make you shake apart on his cock.
His hand comes down to roughly grope and squeeze your tits, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He tugs and pulls at the cruel clamps, twisting them slightly and making you whimper and cry out at the bolts of pain and pleasure that shoot through you.
"That's it, baby. Scream for me," Aemond growls, his hips never faltering in their brutal pace. "Let everyone know who this cunt belongs to now. Who fucks you better than anyone else."
Your body trembles uncontrollably as the intense pleasure turns into overstimulation. You whimper and squirm beneath Aemond, instinctively trying to push his muscular thighs away with your hands, but it's futile. Your fingers scrabble against the floor, seeking purchase, but there's nowhere to go. You're trapped, a prisoner to his relentless thrusts.
"Ahhh, Aemond, please! It's...it's too much! I can't...ahhh!"
You can feel every ridge and vein of his throbbing shaft as he pistons in and out of your fluttering, over-sensitive pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling fill your ears, making you blush hotly, even as you tremble on the edge of another climax.
"Please, Aemond, I...I can't take anymore. You're going to...ahhh...make me cum again!" The words spill from your lips in breathless, broken gasps as your body betrays your impending orgasm.
He reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing the small, powerful vibrator. Your eyes widen in shock as he presses the buzzing toy against your sensitive, swollen clit. The intense vibrations send electricity coursing through your overstimulated body, pushing you right to the razor's edge of another mind-blowing orgasm.
"Oh god, Aemond!" you wail, thrashing your head from side to side as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. Tears stream down your face, your skin flushed and glistening with a sheen of sweat as you tremble and quake beneath him.
Aemond grits his teeth, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels his balls tighten, his own release fast approaching. He grinds the vibrator hard against your clit, the intense stimulation pushing you both to the brink.
Aemond's hips start to stutter, his powerful thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own pleasure. The sight of you coming undone beneath him, tears streaming down your face, and your pussy clenching desperately around his cock, is almost enough to push him over the edge.
"Fuck, I'm going to...cum..." Aemond grits out through clenched teeth, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wants to prolong this moment.
You let out a guttural scream, your back arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through you. "Ffffuck!" You cry out, your hips bucking wildly against Aemond's. Your clit throbs almost unbearably, the vibrator's relentless buzz pushing you past the point of no return.
"Cum on me!" You moan without thinking. "I wanna be covered in your seed!"
Aemond tosses the vibrator aside, both of you panting and shaking with pleasure. He grips your hips tightly, slamming into you one last time before pulling out abruptly. You feel empty, aching for his touch, as he stands up and towers over your trembling form.
With a low, guttural groan, Aemond starts stroking his throbbing shaft. His eyes rove hungrily over your cum-splattered body as he brings himself to a shuddering climax. Thick, hot ropes of his seed erupt from the swollen head of his cock, painting your stomach, tits and pussy in a lewd display of his pleasure.
"Fuck," Aemond growls, squeezing the last drops of cum from his shaft and smearing them across your lower lips. "Look at you, covered in my spunk, so fucking gorgeous. You were made for this, made to be my personal fucktoy."
You shudder, and your body convulses as Aemond lifts you onto the bed and carefully takes off the clamps, his strong arms enveloping you. He cradles you close, one hand gently caressing your hair, still damp with sweat and tears of ecstasy. You nuzzle into his touch, savouring the intimacy of the moment.
Your heart races as you gaze up at Aemond's handsome face, taking in the satisfied smirk on his lips. You can feel his seed, hot and sticky, painting your skin in a lewd display of your passion. The sensation makes you shiver with lingering pleasure.
"Aemond," you whisper breathlessly, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. Your eyes, still glistening with tears, meet his intense gaze. "Thank you," you mutter absentmindedly.
You press yourself closer to his muscular chest, relishing the feel of his strong arms around you. Fearing that soon this would be all over and he would eventually return to your sister.
Aemond's smirk softens into a gentle smile as he gazes down at your blissed-out, fucked stupid expression. He brushes a few damp strands of hair from your face, tucking them tenderly behind your ear. His calloused fingers linger, tracing the delicate line of your jaw.
He holds you close, his touch surprisingly tender, given the brutal passion of moments before. He gazes down at your face, taking in the way his seed clings to your flushed skin, marking you as his.
Aemond's eyes darken as he thinks about returning to his girlfriend, to a life that feels hollow compared to the intensity of this moment.
"You did so well, baby," he murmurs, his fingers playing idly with your hair. "Such a good girl, taking my cock like you were made for it." He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss.
Breaking the kiss, Aemond rests his forehead against yours, his intense blue eye boring into yours. "Don't think this changes anything," he warns, his voice a low rumble. "You're still just the younger sister. A dirty little secret I can't resist fucking."
Your stomach drops as Aemond's harsh words sink in, his cruel reminder of your place in his life. You feel like you've been dunked in ice water, the euphoria of moments ago evaporating instantly. You bite your lip harshly to stop it from trembling, blinking rapidly against the sudden sting of tears.
Stupid, stupid girl, you scold yourself silently. Did you really think a few mind-blowing orgasms would change anything? That he would choose you, want you, over her?
You can feel the tears threatening to spill over, so you quickly look away, not wanting him to see the heartbreak across your face. You curl in on yourself slightly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to hold the shattered pieces of your hopes together.
"Y-yes, I know exactly what I am," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. There's a bitter edge to your words, a mix of pain and resentment. "I'm just the sister. A convenient hole for you to use when you need a quick fuck."
You feel dirty, used, and utterly miserable. But most of all, you feel foolish for letting yourself believe, even for a moment, that you could ever be anything more to him than a dirty little secret.
Aemond's gaze turns cold as he takes in your shattered expression, a flicker of guilt flashing across his handsome features before being quickly suppressed. He sees the tears you're holding back, the way your shoulders curl inwards as if trying to protect yourself from further hurt.
He knows his words were harsh, cruel even, but he can't bring himself to take them back. He won't give you false hope, won't lead you on only to abandon you when he grows tired of this twisted game.
Aemond reaches out, tilting your chin to force you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, catching the tear that slips free.
"You're a smart girl," he murmurs, his voice low and serious. "You know this can't be anything more than what it is. I have a life, responsibilities, and a future that doesn't include you."
Your heart clenches painfully in your chest as Aemond's cruel words sink in, each one feeling like a dagger twisting in your heart. You're stunned into silence for a moment, staring up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes that shimmer with unshed tears.
How could he be so callous, so heartless? You think bitterly.
You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to stem the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. As you exhale slowly, you feel something shift inside you - a flicker of anger sparking to life amidst the pain and heartache.
"Get out," you say coldly, your voice steady and clear despite the turmoil inside you.
He hesitates for a moment, studying your face intently, trying to discern if this is just another manipulation tactic. When he sees the unyielding determination in your eyes, the set of your jaw, he realizes you're serious.
A flicker of anger sparks in Aemond's eyes, annoyed that you would dare to tell him what to do. He's not used to being ordered around, especially not by his girlfriend's sister. Part of him wants to grab you, to shake you, to remind you of your place.
But another part of him, a part he rarely acknowledges, feels a pang of...regret? No, surely not guilt. He won't allow himself to feel guilty. He hasn't done anything wrong.
Aemond rises from the bed, his muscular body unfolding with a fluid grace. He doesn't bother to dress, standing before you bare and unashamed, like Adam before Eve.
"Fine," he says coolly, his voice tight with barely restrained anger and something else he can't quite identify. "If that's what you want."
tags 🏷️
@bey0nd-1he-stars @summerposie
#aera#house of the dragon#hotd smut#hotd#hotd imagine#aeralux#hotd fanfiction#hotd season 2#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader smut#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon au#aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#prince aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond smut#aemond x you#aemond targaryen smut
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lunabae 28 times the moon has whispered my name 🌙✨
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forever_jiyeon Happy Birthday, Luna!! 28 looks SO good on you! Wishing you all the happiness in the universe 💖
moonstruckbymoon Happy birthday, our pretty moon! Thank you for inspiring us every day!!
lunatics_united 28 moon phases and counting, and you’re still the brightest star in the galaxy! Love you, Luna! 🥺🌙
silvermoonluna Happy birthday to the one and only Bae Jiyeon! Cheers to another amazing year 🎂✨
han_luna_world HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUNA!! You’re magical, ethereal, and everything in between 🌙🤍
jeongnadaily Jeonghan’s post and the song??? I’m SCREAMING. You two are perfect 😭💕
↳ starrylovehan THE SONG ‘BETTER HALF’??!! And his caption?! his fucking caption?? I’m not okay 🥹
lunaxhanforever Jeonghan just broke the internet with that post and song! THE WAY HE LOVES YOU 😭🤍
Liked by lunabae, ho5hi_kwon, pledis_boos, and 9,777,111 others
jeonghaniyoo_n from 16 to 28, i’ve loved celebrating every birthday with you.
from the first birthday we celebrated together when you turned sixteen to now at twenty-eight, you’ve grown even more beautiful— inside and out. who would’ve thought we’d go from being strangers to friends, to best friends, to secretly crushing on each other like clueless fools, to finally dating, getting engaged, and planning forever together?
thank you for being the better half of me, the one who makes everything brighter and more meaningful. you’ve taught me what love really is, and i’m so grateful for you every single day. it felt only right to release a song for you today, on your day— a small piece of my heart written for the person who completes it. ‘Better Half’ is yours, just like i am.
thank you for letting me share in your light, for being my partner in our midnight birthday cake-eating rituals and for filling my life with endless love and laughter. let’s celebrate today and every day until we’re old and gray (and i’m still more handsome, obviously 😝).
another year older but still my prettiest moon. i love you endlessly.
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jxjforever WHATAFUCKHWYWGYEGS GOODBYE–
jeonghan_lover14 SIR. THE CAPTION. THE SONG. THE LOVE. I AM NOT OKAY. 😭😭😭
lunahanforever HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BREATHE AFTER THIS?!? This is the most romantic thing ever 😫
prettyboyjeonghan The fact he called her his ‘better half’ AND wrote a whole SONG for her??? LOVE IS REAL. 😭💕
moonlightedbyhan “Better Half is yours, just like I am.” JEONGHAN STOP I AM IN SHAMBLES 🥹🤍
↳ caratstarlight SAME!!!! WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS LEVEL OF ROMANCE? JEONGHAN, YOU WIN THE FIANCÉ OF THE YEAR AWARD 🏆
hanseverything Not me crying in the club over this caption. ALSO THE SONG?? I HONESTLY CAN’T 🫠
lunahan_together Midnight birthday cake rituals? Loving her since she was 16?? GET OUT OF HERE, YOON JEONGHAN 😭😭.
jiyeonieeeee_17 ‘Better Half’ is the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard, and the fact he dropped it for HER on HER day?? I’M DONE 😩
ot14carats HOW DARE YOU, JEONGHAN. This is TOO MUCH PERFECTION. The caption, the pictures, the song, the EVERYTHING 😭💕
lunabae i love you endlessly 🥹🤍
↳ jeonghaniyoo_n endlessly 🤍
caratmoonchild I’m sobbing uncontrollably. He loves her so much, and it’s SO OBVIOUS. THIS IS THE STANDARD 🥹💖
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#seventeen 14th member#⋆ ˚。⋆🌙˚LUNA-VERSE#yoon jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#seventeen#svt jeonghan#seventeen yoon jeonghan#svt#svt yoon jeonghan#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x oc#yoon jeonghan x you#idol!addition#idol!oc#idol!reader#idol!au#kpop added member#kpop female addition#kpop female oc#kpop female member#kpop addition#kpop female idol#kpop female reader#seventeen added member#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x oc
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My grandparents were all “grandpa and grandma” + their legal last name. Sometimes it would be + their first name, but never when talking to them. It would be purely for clarification in conversation about them.
This scandalized my very proper great grandmother who thought it should be “grandmother” and “grandfather” because “we spoke perfect German in Germany, you will speak perfect English now that we’re in America.
This old woman used to correct my spelling and grammar in the letters I sent her (with red pen like they were homework and she was my teacher) and would return them to me with her reply.
She wouldn’t even let her children call her “mom”. She was “mother”, “grandmother”, “great grandmother” or “Mrs. (Last name)” to everyone except her husband. And even he had to call her Lillian instead of “Lilly”.
So, sorry. No idea why these weird names for grandparents are a thing in other families, but my family didn’t tolerate me even pronouncing “aunt” like “ant” despite that being how everyone else around me pronounces it. Literally, I would pronounce “aunt” like “ant” and every family member would respond with “there are no insects in our family” until I corrected myself.
THIS IS KILLING ME
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"You had a bad day, and your boyfriend did his best to cheer you up."
Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader
Genre: Established relationship
Warnings: Cigarettes, she burns him with the cig once, vaginal fingering, hair pulling(m!receiving), nipple sucking(f!receiving), riding, choking and face slapping(m!receiving), unprotected sex but they are clean and in birth control!!! He cums inside her. Cuddlesss :(
Wordcount: 2,7k
a/n: That's one of my favorite lives of him, and he cheered me up that day when i was feeling terrible, so why not?
You close the door of your apartment, take off your shoes and coat and leave them lying around, then go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your boyfriend is sitting on the sofa with his cell phone in his hand, following you with his eyes.
"Hey my love, you arrived late, I was already going to call you. How was your day?"
You sip your water and set the glass down on the counter, letting out a tired sigh. He turns off his cell phone, puts it on the coffee table, and then walks over to you.
"Want to talk about it?" he asks, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
"Nothing much happened... just a couple of coworkers who made the atmosphere in the company bad and delayed everyone's work, that's why I arrived much later than normal, also I didn't wake up in the best of moods this morning."
He gives you a worried look, and you give him a small smile.
"I'm fine, my dear, really. I'm just really tired, and my whole body aches. But I'm going to take a long cold shower and come back to you brand new."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, my love, I am"
"Then go take your bath, relax, I'll wait for you"
He's incredibly beautiful in your eyes right now. He's wearing a basic black shirt with sweatpants and wearing his prescription glasses, smelling like a freshly-taken bath. You gave him another smile and a kiss, then headed to the bathroom. You spend a significant amount of time in there, as you said you were going to take a long shower, you really needed it.
You do your skincare, put on a pair of boxer panties and a shirt, which happens to be Jungkook's, and when you get to the living room, you're confronted with a scene that warmed your heart. He turned off all the main lights, leaving only the lamp next to the sofa on, prepared some snacks and beer, and there's music playing on the TV. All this as a plan to take your mind off anything that wasn't him. And that worked perfectly.
"Oh hey darling, feeling better?" He looks at you opening a beer.
"Yes, thank you... what's all this?"
"You were tired, so I thought i could cheer you up. Here are the snacks you like, I've turned on the TV and... Is the lighting okay for you?" He stares at you in a child standing position, and you let out a hearty laugh.
"It's perfect, my love."
"Come over here," now sitting on the sofa, he taps the empty spot on the sofa next to him, "sit here with me."
You go over and pick up the other open beer on the coffee table and sit down next to him. "You didn't need to prepare all that stuff for me Ggukie"
"Of course I did, you've had a bad day, I can't stand seeing you like this. If I could I'd have all your bad days for you."
"You're so sweet"
He smiles and looks down, sniffing the mouth of the bottle. "Is the playlist good? Or do you want me to change it?"
The playlist that's playing on the TV was created by the two of you, with the name Nights together ♡ and it was made especially for moments like this, or for when the two of you couldn't sleep and ended up staying up all night chatting and making out until you got tired.
"No you don't have to, it's good"
"Hmmm... but what about your coworkers?"
"Oh, they're husband and wife, at least they used to be. The wife caught her husband with someone else, someone else who works with them, the other woman almost had her hair pulled out"
"A couple who work together in the same job? And the guy still does this, basically to his wife's face?"
You nod, taking a sip of your beer.
"The atmosphere there got awful, the wife started crying and everyone took her in, I just hid in my computer and carried on working, I am less late than the rest of the people, but still, I was supposed to finish everything today."
“You were smart” he puts his mouth on the bottle.
“I still came off as the heartless one, and I'm not even close to her, even I've been a cuckold and I didn't suffer like that” Jungkook laughs and holds back from spitting out the sip of beer he was about to swallow. “You can laugh. She was yelling... Why did he do that to me? I got him this job! How ungrateful!” You imitate the wife. “And everyone was smooching her, comforting her, I can't stand it. She treated him so badly every day, he couldn't do anything wrong and she'd yell at him, that he was worthless, that she didn't know what she was thinking when she married him.” You eat some of the snacks.
“Maybe that's why he cheated on her”
“That's what I thought, but as I said, I'm not close to her, he could be a scumbag at home.”
“I'd never cheat on you, you know?” You giggle shyly and look down at the bottle in your hand, ”I mean it.”
You look up again and find him staring at you with his eyes shining.
“I missed you today”
“Just today?”
“Every day” his smile appears.
“Do you want to watch a movie while we cuddle?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing”
“Do I choose or do you choose?”
And there you are, late at night, watching your second movie. You're lying on his bare chest, and he's stroking your hair, you're paying more attention to the sound of his heart beating than to the movie, which is pretty boring by the way, but you don't care as long as Jungkook is with you. The door to the balcony is half open, and the chill air from outside comes in softly and spreads through the room with the smoke coming from the ashtray on the coffee table. Jungkook takes the cigarette from his fingers to his mouth, and you look closely at his arm, the veins popping out, pale skin, waiting to be marked. He blows out the smoke.
“This movie is so predictable”
“Huh?”
“Everyone knows that when he walks in there the door will close behind him” he offers you the cigarette, and you accept it looking at the screen, ”I told you, they don't make good horror movies anymore, they're all copies of each other”
You blow the smoke out of your mouth and sniff it back in through your nose, looking at him while he still insists on watching the movie. His glasses disappeared along with his shirt when the first movie ended, his hair is slicked back, he's lightly biting the piercing in the corner of his mouth and you have a perfect view of his neck. You snap out of your trance when you feel the cigarette starting to burn your fingers, and you reach out to put it out in the ashtray, but now all you can think about is the hand he has placed on your waist to prevent you from falling off the sofa.
“The idiot still tries to talk to the entity. These characters are so easy to kill”
You kiss his sternum trying to get his attention, “what a bad movie, I don't think I know how to choose movies anymore”.
“You say it's bad, but you can't take your eyes off the screen”
He looks at you, “I'm sorry, baby, I wanted to see how far the bullshit would go”
“Why don't we do something more interesting?” he puts his arm behind his head, using it as a support to see you better.
“Something on your mind?”
You stretch again, but this time, to get a new cigarette straight from the box, you also pick up the heater and sit on the lap of the dark-haired man below you. You light the cigarette, take a drag, and blow it in his face, who closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, you turn the tip of the cigarette in his direction, and he gets the message, leaning on his arms to sit on the sofa and get face to face with you.
You put the cigarette in his mouth, and he puts his hands on your waist, helping you to get comfortable on his lap. He looks away as the smoke comes out of his mouth. The cigarette goes back in your mouth, and Jungkook is already looking at you with big eyes again.
“Blow in my face again... please”
You do what he asks, and you feel him shudder and squeeze your waist, “I don't even think about the movie anymore”.
A smirk comes over your face, and you run your hand through his hair, “You've been so nice today, organizing everything to spend time with me, helping me relax... I want to thank you for that”
He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin between your breasts.
“My bunny... I've been keeping an eye on you since I got home"
“You can take your frustration out on me whenever you want”
“Would you do that for me?”
“Anything for you”
“Even if it means I'm going to be mean?” You wrap your fingers in his hair and pull it back slowly.
“Yes... I can be your personal punching bag if you please”
“Are you sure?” You say as you stub out your cigarette on his arm, staring into his eyes.
“Yes I am” he keeps his gaze glued to yours, tightening his arms around you. You drop the cigarette on the floor and attack his mouth.
He moves his hands up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and he pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same action.
“Lean your back against the sofa, it'll be better” you stand up, leaving his lap missing you, and he does what you said, being able to get a better view of you taking off your panties.
“Close your mouth, or you'll drool,” you say, smiling and getting back on top of him, ”I'll leave the shirt for you since it's yours.”
He laughs, you raise your arms, and he removes his shirt from your body, which he does with pleasure, then kisses his way down your neck.
“I've wanted to do that for a while”
“Then why didn't you do it before? You preferred to waste your time with that awful movie”
“I'm sorry, punish me for that” he says into your ear
You laugh, “you naughty boy”
He brings one of his hands down to your pussy, and runs his middle and ring fingers over it, “you're so wet”
“I've been wet since you took your shirt off, like an hour ago”
“Can I put them in?”
“Have at it, before I do it myself”
He puts his fingers inside you, looking at you as you close your eyes and arch your back. “You're so beautiful” you squeeze his shoulders, leaving your fingernails almost bruising him.
“Curl them” you ignore his compliment and give the order, he moves his fingers with ease, offering his thumb on your clit as a treat.
He puts his mouth on one of your breasts and licks his way to the nipple without taking his eyes off you. You pull his hair and call his name as he sucks your nipple and curls his fingers again. His other hand is on your waist, squeezing lightly. “I can't take my eyes off you, my sweetheart"
You growl and throw your head back, not giving a damn about the pain you're causing him by scratching his back like a wild animal, because that's how he makes you feel and that's how he asked to be treated.
He licks you from your nipple to your neck and nibbles on your earlobe, causing you to shiver.
“Jungkook stop.”
He pulls his fingers out of you, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, I just don't want to cum on your fingers, I want to cum on your cock” he sighs shakily, ”pull down your pants”
He lowers his sweatpants along with his underpants as much as this position allows him, and you put one of your hands on each of his shoulders, fitting your entrance to his tip.
You both moan in unison, feeling your bodies fit together perfectly, and you lower your hands from his shoulders to his chest. You move at a faster pace, and he grabs your ass, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. He lets out a whimper that was supposed to be your name.
“Look at me,” you order, squeezing his neck.
Your bouncing gets harder, his hands roam desperately over your body in a clumsy way, tears start to form in his eyes, and he coughs, obediently waiting for you to release his neck.
“Hit me”
“What?”
“Hit me, my love, please”
You stop pressing your hand to his neck without taking it away. He takes a deep breath, and you slam your hand on his cheek, marking your territory.
“You're so beautiful,” you slap him again. “I love you,” another slap. “My goddess,” and another slap. “I'd never cheat on you. You can treat me like shit every day, but I'll still love you and worship you, I'll do anything for you. You're my muse. I need you."
Your head is spinning, the cold wind coming from the balcony is chilling you, his mouth is seeking yours, and you connect them by wrapping your arms around his neck. You would be trapped for hours, days, even years in this moment, in what he, only he, causes you. In the way he, only he, loves you.
“Fuck, baby, I'm close”
“Let go, my love, I'll be here to hold you”
His words were like a trigger for your high to come. You scream his name and tremble around him. He kisses your neck in a sloppy way. Now he's moving his own waist, hunting his own orgasm.
“Baby, I'm sensitive, baby”
“I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on a little longer, please. I know I asked you to be mean, but don't do this to me.” You laugh and kiss him, moving your waist again.
He squeezes your waist and whines into your mouth.
“Love?” he breaks the kiss and looks deep into your eyes.
“It's okay, go on, I want you to,” you stroke the hair on the back of his neck.
And he allows himself to, sinking his head into the crook of your neck, hugging you as if someone wants to steal you away from him. The two of you hug in silence, and you can hear his breathing and his heart beating again, the TV already showing the typical Are you still watching? line.
He looks at you, with his hair messed up, his mouth red and wet from kissing, and droopy eyes.
"I love you so much. If you left me, it would break me, I don't know how I could live without you by my side. You're my life."
"I'll never leave you."
"I know, I know." You caress his face, and he closes his eyes, seeking your touch like a magnet. You lean his head against you and hug him like a child in need of comfort.
"I love you so much, my bunny"
"I love you... I love you..."
"Thank you."
He looks at you again, "Thank you for today. You were very sweet for doing all this"
"Baby, you deserve so much more than this. This was a little treat. You deserve the world, and I feel guilty for not being able to give it to you"
You kiss him passionately and lean your forehead against his, "You're already my world, my love." He smiles with his eyes closed, and your breaths synchronize.
"Baby, I love that we're cuddling like this, but I really need to get cleaned up"
"I know, me too, take a shower with me, and then we'll watch another movie, or play a game, before bed"
"I'd love to."
"But if it's a movie, it has to be a good one," you smile.
"Then you choose this time."
He'll always make you happy, you don't need anything else, he'll always be your dopamine.
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook smut#sub jungkook#bts smut#bts oneshot
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Title: "Body Shots & Basketball"
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Rating: Mature ( MIDNI!!!)
Warning:wlw smut, mentions of alcohol, semi-public sex (fingering r reseving in bar bathroom), !panty theif Paige, !top Paige,!bottom reader, drunk sex, !purple strap Paige, lots of pet names
Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball
Summary: playing their favorite post-game drinking game: Who Would You Let? You and your friend. When the question turns extra spicy—choosing between Paige or Azzi for a body shot— you hesitates. But Paige overhears
“Okay, next question.”
I leaned back in my barstool, sipping my drink as my best friend grinned mischievously across from me. Ted’s was packed after the UConn women’s game, the usual post-victory energy buzzing through the air.
My best friend, always the instigator, tapped a manicured nail against her shot glass. “Who would you let take a body shot off you—Paige or Azzi?”
I choked on my drink. “Excuse me?”
She smirked. “You heard me.”
I shook my head, laughing. “Oh, you’re messy for that.”
“That’s the game! If you don’t answer, you take two shots. If you do, you gotta explain your reasoning.”
I glanced down at my nearly empty glass, then back up at her. “...Two shots?”
She nodded, raising a brow. “Unless you got an answer.”
I exhaled, pretending to think. “Okay, okay… Paige.”
She gasped dramatically. “Ooooh! You better explain yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “First of all, both are insanely attractive, so it’s not an easy choice. But Paige is a little more… I don’t know, dangerous.”
My friend snorted. “Dangerous? Paige Bueckers?”
I shrugged, swirling my straw around my drink. “She’s got that flirty menace energy. Like, you know she’d talk her way into getting what she wants.”
“Well, well, well.”
I froze.
That was not my friend’s voice.
I turned slowly, and there she was—Paige Bueckers herself, standing right next to our table, a knowing smirk on her face.
My stomach plummeted.
She was holding a couple of drinks, clearly on her way back to her team, but now, she was watching me like I was the most entertaining thing in the bar.
“You think I’m a menace?” she asked, tilting her head.
My friend, the traitor, grinned. “Oh, she definitely does.”
I buried my face in my hands. “I hate you.”
Paige chuckled, sliding onto the empty stool beside me. “I feel like I deserve an explanation.”
I peeked at her through my fingers. “You were not supposed to hear that.”
“Yeah, well, I did,” she said, shrugging. “And now I’m curious.”
My friend, having the time of her life, nudged me. “Go on, tell her.”
I groaned, taking a long sip of my drink. “I just said you’ve got a little… flirty menace energy.”
Paige grinned. “That’s cute. I like that.”
My brain short-circuited.
Paige leaned in slightly, her voice low. “So, tell me, was that just a game, or do you actually mean it?”
I swallowed. “That depends… are you gonna let me live after this conversation?”
Paige laughed, tapping her fingers against the bar. “That depends… are you gonna let me take you out sometime?”
I blinked. “Wait. What?”
She smirked. “You heard me.”
My friend gasped, gripping my arm. “She manifested this.”
Paige pulled out her phone, sliding it toward me. “Put your number in.”
I hesitated for half a second before typing it in, handing the phone back. Paige looked at the screen, then back at me, grinning. “Perfect.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “We’ve got a table with the team in the back. You two should come hang out.”
My friend and I exchanged looks before she nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.”
Hanging out with the team was insane.
Between the drinks, the jokes, and the endless teasing over what Paige overheard, I was convinced my soul had left my body from sheer embarrassment.
Then Ice cleared her throat. “Alright, we’ve been talking about it long enough.”
I raised a brow. “Talking about what?”
Jana grinned, standing up. “We’re clearing a table.”
My stomach flipped. “For what?”
Paige stretched her arms, smirking. “For a body shot.”
I nearly choked on my drink.
KK whistled. “Damn, Paige really wasted no time.”
I waved my hands. “Hold on—”
Ice and Jana were already moving glasses aside, wiping down the wooden table.
Paige grinned at me. “Well? You picked me, didn’t you?”
My face was on fire. “I was just getting drunk, then!”
Paige shrugged. “So? You said it with your chest. Now let me take my prize.”
The entire team was eating this up, cheering and hyping Paige up.
Paige grabbed my hand, tugging me forward. “C’mon, baby. Let’s make this game official.”
My brain completely shut off at the way she said baby.
My friend shoved me. “Oh my God, just do it.”
I groaned. “Y’all are ridiculous.”
Paige just winked. “And you love it.”
I climbed onto the table after taking my cropped Bueckers jersey of revealing my black spaghetti strapped lace bralette bra, my heart pounding as Paige let out a low whistle as she grabbed the salt and a lime slice.
I barely had time to process before she leaned down, her breath warm against the skin on my neck, near my ear. “You ready, ma?”
I nodded weakly.
She smirked, dragging her tongue across my collarbone before sprinkling salt over it. My entire body broke out in chills.
The room roared.
KK shouted, “Oh, this is legendary.”
Paige took the shot of tequila, licking the salt off my skin before biting into the lime, taking it off my body all while keeping direct eye contact.
I forgot how to breathe.
The bar erupted, the team hollering and laughing while Paige pulled back, grinning.
She wiped her lips, tilting her head. “Still think I’m just a menace, prettygirl?”
I swallowed hard. “You are so dangerous.”
Paige chuckled, pulling me up into her arms. “You love it.”
My brain was mush. “I might.”
She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Then let’s see where this goes”
A fee mins later and a few more rounds Paige is whispering in my ear. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, her voice low and sultry, in my ear, pulling me back to reality. Without waiting for a response, she took my hand, leading me through the crowd and towards the bathroom at the back of the bar.
Once inside, the small space was dimly lit, and the scent of alcohol mixed with the faint smell of soap filled the air. Paige locked the door behind Us, and my heart raced more as I leaned against the cool tile wall, my pulse quickening with excitement.
“God, you're so pretty,” Paige murmured, her eyes dark with desire. I felt a flush of warmth spread through me as Paige stepped closer, our bodies almost touching. “Can I?” Paige asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers brushing against my right thigh.
“Yes,” I breathed, my mind swirling with the effects of the alcohol and the intensity of Paige’s gaze. Paige knelt before me, her hands guiding my legs apart just enough for her to settle between them. The thrill of being in a bathroom stall, hidden away from the world, only fueled the fire.
As Paige’s fingers danced along my hot, sensitive skin, I felt both nervous and exhilarated. “You’re so soft,” Paige cooed, her touch igniting sparks of pleasure coursing through my body. “I want to make you feel good, baby.”
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations as Paige’s fingers found their way beneath my nylon/leather mini pencil skirt. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in this secret moment. “Paige,” I gasped as she expertly teased me, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down my spine.
“Shh, pretty girl. Just let me take care of you,” Paige whispered, her voice dripping with affection and seduction, as she hook her fingers on my thin thong pulling it down swiftly. I stepped out if then only for her to stuff em in her back pocket, I could hardly think as I felt myself unraveling under Paige’s touch, 3 knuckles deep, thumb on my sensitive clit. She said cooing at my pussy, but holding eye contact with me.
The combination of alcohol and desire creating a heady mix that left me breathless.
But just as the pleasure began to mount, Paige pulled away, a mischievous grin on her face. “Let’s take this back to my dorm,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and without waiting for a response, she grabbed my hand and led me out of the bathroom, but not before making my lower only skirt covered lower body look decent.
Paige tapped Ice and let her know what what happening with her and I.
Ice giving us the smirk and nod of approval, even pushing us closer to the door of the bar.
The walk to Paige’s dorm felt like a dream, each step filled with anticipation. Once inside, Paige kick the door closed behind us. The dim light from the common room cast a soft glow, and I felt a rush of exhilaration as I took in the cozy space.
Paige turned to me, her gaze intense. “You trust me, right?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, as she led me to her room. I nodded, my heart racing as I watched Paige reach into her drawer and pull out a purple(lavender-ish) strap. The sight sent a thrill of excitement through me, and I swallowed hard, my body responding eagerly to the suggestion of what was to come.
“Good girl,” Paige purred, her eyes dark with desire. “Now, come here, pretty girl.” She beckoned me closer, her voice is smooth and coaxing, wrapping me into a trance.
As I stepped closer, Paige’s hands found my waist, pulling me in for a tender kiss. It was soft at first, a gentle exploration that quickly turned passionate as I melted against her. “You’re so beautiful, ma,” Paige murmured against myblips, showering me with pet names that sent delightful shivers coursing through my body.
With deliberate slowness, Paige guided me to the bed, our lips never breaking contact as they tumbled onto the soft sheets. “I want to make you feel amazing,” Paige whispered, her voice a husky promise that made my heart race.
“Yes please,” I breathed, my body aching for more. The alcohol had stripped away all of my inhibitions, leaving me vulnerable yet exhilarated, and I craved every bit of attention Paige was willing to give.
Paige took her time, running her hands over my body, teasing and exploring until I was a whimpering mess beneath her. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” Paige asked, her voice dripping with affection and desire. I nodded, a soft whimper escaping my lips as I felt the strap press against me.
“Tell me how you feel, baby,” Paige coaxed, her eyes locked onto mine, searching for reassurance and a connection that felt deeper than the physical.
“Full P, so full” I gasped, my breath hitching as Paige began to move, the sensation intense and overwhelming. “So good.”
“Just like that, mamas,” Paige encouraged, her voice a soothing balm against the waves of pleasure crashing over me. With each thrust, I felt myself spiraling, every sound, every touch amplifying the ecstasy building within her.
“Look at you, so beautiful,” Paige murmured, her hands gripping my hips as she guided our rhythm, the tension between Us palpable. “I love how you feel, baby. You’re mine tonight.”
“Fuckk, Pa-Paige so good,” I say holding in a moan. “Nah, ma let me hear them pretty lil moans.” I gasp letting out a moan when she slaps my clit lightly. Bucking my hips to meet the thrust of Paige's hips.
“Yes, so-fuckin good P.” I let out soft moans getting louder with each thrust. “Such a, pretty girl, with a pretty pussy.” I nod my head letting more whimpers fall from my mouth.
Paige could tell I was getting closer by the way my legs shook, the way my jaw is relaxed. My body shook, eyes rolling to the back of my head. “That's it mamas, cum on dick I think your can.” Clenching around the purple strap I let out an almost pornographic moan.
I could tell paige was getting close ad there thrust go sloppy, soon throwing her head back letting out the almost same moan I did.
“S..Shhit ma, did a good job for me. Yeah” Paige said after we rode out our high slowly pulling the strap of my pussy. “Mm, so good P.”
She carefully took the strap off, before walking to the bathroom and cleaning strap before coming back with a warm wet cloth. Gently either her and I holding eye contact she gently wiped me completely clean.
“Wow! That-that was-” I say, as Paige climbs in the bed with me and finishing my statement. “Amazing, it was amazing.”
“Yeah, Amazing.”
The first thing I noticed was warmth.
Not the kind that came from the sunlight peeking through the blinds or the heat of the comforter tangled around my legs—but the kind that came from another person.
Specifically, the 6’0” basketball menace currently wrapped around me like she had no plans of letting go.
I blinked, slowly adjusting to my surroundings. Paige’s dorm. Paige’s bed. Paige’s arm draped over my waist, her face buried in the crook of my neck.
Oh.
Last night came rushing back like a highlight reel: the game, the drinking, the body shot, Paige licking salt off my skin like it was her job—
I squeezed my eyes shut. Jesus Christ.
“You’re thinking really hard for someone who should just be enjoying the moment,” a raspy voice murmured against my shoulder.
I opened my eyes to find Paige peeking up at me, a lazy grin on her lips.
Her morning voice? Not fair.
I rolled onto my side, our faces inches apart. “You always this cuddly?”
Paige shrugged, fingers tracing absentminded circles on my hip. “Not really. Just with people I like.”
People she likes.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air between us was heavier than before.
She must’ve noticed because her grin turned teasing. “What? You shy now? You didn’t seem shy when I was licking salt off you in front of half the team.”
I groaned, burying my face in her pillow. “I will actually pass away if you bring that up again.”
She laughed, tugging me closer. “Nah, I kinda like seeing you all flustered.”
I peeked up at her, biting my lip. “So… last night wasn’t just a drunken dare?”
Paige shook her head, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Nah, baby. That was me finally getting what I wanted.”
My heart stuttered.
I was so not prepared for Paige Bueckers to be this smooth first thing in the morning.
Still, I had to keep things light before my brain short-circuited completely. “Damn, what do you mean?”
Paige smirked. “I had a feeling, from the firt mom i saw you come out of communications with Azzi, if we'rebeung for reak here.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay, menace, sure.. the paige bueckers had a crush on mee.”
She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “Actually, I believe the term you used was flirty menace, and yes I did-do have a crush on you. Like you're somethin else ya know.”
“Oh my God—” I say covering my face to try and hide my embarrassment.
Paige grinned, rolling fully on top of me, arms caging me in. “You’re really cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”
I stared up at her, my heart pounding. “You’re really cute when you’re not terrorizing me first thing in the morning.”
Paige chuckled, leaning in slightly, her nose brushing mine. “You love it.”
I exhaled, feeling her breath against my lips. “I might.”
Her eyes searched mine, something softer replacing the teasing glint she usually carried. “Good,” she murmured. “Because I meant what I said last night.”
I raised a brow. “Which part? You said a lot of reckless things.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips didn’t fade. “The part where I said I wanted to see where this goes.”
I felt my stomach flip. “You serious?”
Paige nodded. “Yeah. I don’t do the whole ‘let’s pretend it didn’t happen’ thing. I like you. Always have. And if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to wake up without you in my bed. Now that ive had you.”
My brain was rapidly buffering.
Was Paige Bueckers—Paige Bueckers—asking me to be with her?
I swallowed, forcing myself to sound normal despite the emotional meltdown happening inside me. “So… if I were to ask you, what are we right now—”
Paige cut me off immediately. “We’re something special.”
My breath hitched.
She tilted her head, waiting. “Be my girl?”
I stared at her, every ounce of smartass energy draining from my body.
There was only one answer.
I reached up, running a hand through her messy blonde hair before pulling her down into a soft kiss.
Her lips curved against mine, like she already knew.
I smiled as I pulled back. “Yeah, Paige. I’ll be your girl.”
She kissed my temple with tenderness, before kissing all over my face giving my lips the final kiss.
---
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
#gabi writes#support the writers!#gabi answers#uconn wbb#°~prettygirlgabi ask~°#uconn huskies#oneshot#paige bueckers#uconn women’s basketball#wbb#wlw ns/fw#wlw post#wlw#wbb x reader#ncaa wbb#uconn x reader#paige bueckers uconn#uconn#paige bueckers smut#paige buckets#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#pb5
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Long Overdue Promise
Larissa Weems x fem!reader
When a shadow from Larissa’s past shows up at her door, reminding her of a promise she made twenty years ago.
A/N: Writing is basically keeping me sane right now. Enjoy! Jordan, this one’s for you! See you in 20 years!
The house was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fireplace. Larissa Weems sat curled in her armchair, a glass of wine perched precariously in her hand. She stared into the burgundy liquid, swirling it idly, though her mind was far from the drink. The evening had been like so many others lately—lonely, subdued, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Forty-one.
The number lingered in her mind, heavier than she'd expected it to feel. Her birthday had passed a few weeks ago, marked by polite well-wishes and a dinner she had hosted herself. But no celebration could erase the quiet truth of it: forty-one years, and her life looked so different from what she’d imagined when she was a student at Nevermore.
Her lips curved into a small, self-deprecating smile. What had she expected? A perfect career? A family? Some grand, sweeping romance? She’d told herself over the years that she didn’t need any of it. She had her work. She had her home. Her students. But tonight, as she stared at the fireplace, she felt the faintest echo of longing—a hollow space she couldn’t quite name.
It was like a pull, the quiet tug of a memory buried so deep she’d almost forgotten it existed. The weight of it, however, was undeniable now. She was older. Her heart, once a wide-open vessel for hopes and dreams, had been shut away behind layers of practicality and caution. For so long, she’d told herself she was fine on her own, that love wasn’t something she needed, or that it was something for other people—people who didn’t carry the weight of history on their shoulders.
Her thoughts drifted to a time when she had believed in everything—the fierce optimism of youth, the way she had once thought she could be anything, do anything, with the world at her feet. But it hadn’t taken long for the truth to sink in. She hadn’t just built walls around her heart—she’d constructed an entire fortress. And that fortress had been reinforced by the memory of a love that had never been fully hers.
Her thoughts returned to Morticia Addams, the sharp, intoxicating magnetism of her presence still alive in Larissa’s memory. Even as she’d built her career, her identity, Larissa had always carried that secret, private love. It was the kind of love that never quite faded, never quite disappeared, but that you learned to keep tucked away in the quietest corners of your heart. And it was that love—unrequited, unspoken—that had shaped every relationship since. None of them had ever felt real enough, close enough, because none of them had been her.
Larissa’s fingers tightened around her glass, but before she could take another sip, a sharp knock at the door startled her, breaking her reverie. She frowned, setting the glass down carefully before standing. Visitors weren’t exactly common at this hour, especially unannounced ones.
Her heels clicked against the hardwood as she crossed to the door, her mind already flipping through possibilities. A student? A staff member? An emergency, perhaps?
But when she opened the door, the sight that greeted her was one she hadn’t imagined in years.
It was you.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. You stood there, rain clinging to your coat and hair, a nervous smile playing on your lips. Larissa’s breath caught in her throat as she took you in. You looked older—of course you did. But there was something about you that hadn’t changed, something that tugged at a part of her she thought she’d buried.
“Happy belated birthday,” you said, your voice soft, familiar, and entirely too casual for the weight of the moment. “I just realized we’re overdue on a promise.”
Larissa stared at you, her mind struggling to catch up. And then, as if pulled by some invisible thread, the memory hit her.
It had been a warm spring night, the air thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the faint hum of crickets. You and Larissa had been sprawled on the grass near the Nevermore lake, a stolen bottle of wine between you.
“I’m serious,” you’d said, your words slurred but your tone insistent. “If we’re both still single at forty, we’ll marry each other. Deal?”
Larissa had laughed, a rich, musical sound that echoed across the water. “Oh, absolutely. Because nothing screams romance like two lonely spinsters making a drunken pact.”
You’d nudged her shoulder playfully. “I’m being serious, Weems.”
“And I’m being drunk,” she’d teased, though the warmth in her smile betrayed her fondness for you.
Still, there had been a sincerity in your eyes that had quieted her laughter. She’d felt something shift in that moment, though she wasn’t sure what it was.
“Fine,” she’d said at last, raising the nearly empty bottle in mock solemnity. “If we’re both single at forty, we’ll get married. Deal.”
You’d clinked your glass against the bottle, your grin wide and mischievous. “It’s a promise.”
Larissa had never expected to think about that night again. She hadn’t thought about much from her past, especially not from her time as a student, when she’d been far more carefree. Those years had become a series of disconnected moments, each one replaced by the demands of her career and the cold weight of responsibilities. She’d buried those lighter, hopeful parts of herself beneath layers of control and composure.
But now, seeing you there, the years didn’t seem to matter. Everything felt familiar—too familiar. She had always known there was a reason she hadn’t had long-lasting relationships, a reason she’d spent so much time alone. And that reason had always been tied to her feelings for Morticia. There had never been room for anyone else—not really.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember,” Larissa said, her voice soft as the memory faded.
You smiled, a little shyly, and shrugged. “How could I forget?”
She stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. You hesitated for a moment before stepping past her, shedding your damp coat and setting it carefully on the rack. The warmth of the room enveloped you, though it did little to ease the nervous flutter in your chest.
Larissa led you to the living room, her movements graceful despite the slight stiffness in her posture. She sat down in the chair she’d just vacated, gesturing for you to take the couch opposite her.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
“I suppose I should offer you a drink,” Larissa said at last, her voice tinged with wry humor.
You shook your head. “I’m fine.”
Her gaze lingered on you, searching, questioning. “So,” she said slowly, “is this a social visit? Or have you come to collect on our… agreement?”
The teasing lilt in her voice couldn’t quite mask the vulnerability beneath it.
“I…” You hesitated, suddenly unsure of how to begin. “I’ve been thinking about that night. About you. A lot.”
Larissa raised an eyebrow, her expression carefully neutral. “Have you?”
You nodded, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “I turned forty a few weeks ago,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” Larissa said softly. “I saw the announcement in the papers. Congratulations, by the way.”
You looked up at her, startled. “You… you still read those?”
She smiled faintly. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
Silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile.
“I never forgot about you,” you said at last, your voice trembling slightly. “I know we haven’t spoken in years, but… I don’t know. I just felt like I needed to see you.”
Larissa’s expression softened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Why now?”
You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “Because I think we made that promise for a reason. And I think… I think I’ve spent the past twenty years trying to convince myself I didn’t need you. But I do, Larissa.”
Her breath hitched, and she looked away, her gaze fixed on the flickering fire.
“I’m not the person you knew,” she said quietly. “I’ve changed.”
“So have I,” you replied, your voice steady. “But I think some part of us—of what we had—is still here. Don’t you?”
She didn’t answer right away, her fingers tightening around the armrest of her chair. When she finally looked at you, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“You deserve someone who can give you everything,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not someone who’s spent their whole life building walls.”
“I’m not asking for perfection,” you said, leaning forward. “I’m asking for you.”
The vulnerability in your words broke something in her. She stood abruptly, pacing to the window as though the act might give her space to think.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, her back to you. “I don’t know how to let you in.”
“You already did,” you said gently. “A long time ago.”
Larissa’s breath caught at your words. She turned to face you, her expression raw and unguarded. For a moment, she looked like the girl you’d known all those years ago—soft, hopeful, afraid of wanting too much.
Her heart beat a little faster as she watched you, feeling the weight of everything between you—years of silence, of missed opportunities, of dreams that had never quite come true. She had spent so much of her life convincing herself that she didn’t need anyone, that she was fine alone. But the truth was, she'd been lying to herself for so long.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
“You won’t,” you said, your voice a promise—fragile, but full of hope.
The words hung between you, a delicate thread of possibility that neither of you could ignore. Slowly, cautiously, Larissa crossed the room and sat beside you on the couch. Her hands trembled as she reached for yours, her fingers brushing against your skin.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice barely audible, the weight of the question pressing against her chest.
You nodded, tears spilling over as you squeezed her hand. "I’ve never been more sure of anything."
And for the first time in years, Larissa allowed herself to hope.
The silence between you felt different now, less oppressive. It wasn’t a promise yet, but it was something. It was a beginning—of something new, or perhaps something old, rekindled. The road ahead would be difficult, filled with the shadows of your pasts, but for the first time in a long while, Larissa didn’t feel so alone.
And maybe, just maybe, this time, she wouldn’t have to be.
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taglist: @weemssapphic , @im-a-carnivorous-plant , @dingdongthetail , @gwensfz , @erablaise-blog , @rainbow-hedgehog , @renravens , @kaymariesworld , @niceminipotato , @witchesmortuary , @notmeellaannyy , @weemswife , @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 , @redkarine , @women-are-so-ethereal , @opheliauniverse , @willisnotmental l , @raspburrythief , @fictionalized-lesbian , @ness029 , @geekyarmorel , @h-doodles , @cxndlelightx , @m1lflov3rrr , @winterfireblond @nocteangelus15 , @aemilia19 @spacetoaim22 @vendocrap8008 @jkregal @gela123 @lilfartbox1 @xuukoo @bellatrixsbrat @sadsapphic-rose @dumbasslesbi @larissalover3 @friskyfisher @fliesinmymouth @imprincipalweemspet @forwhichidream11 @amateurwritescm @imlike-so-gaydude @sugipla @lvinhs @http-sam @gweninred @a-queen-and-her-throne
#gwendoline christie#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems#larissa weems x y/n#no beta we die like larissa
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Sooo many things to say
You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.
Yeah now guess how tired it makes to grow a human from scratch while also being the food source for another one🙄
Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."
🥰🥰🥰
"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.
Say it!!!
"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."
hahaha fair
"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please." You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.
He loves being a dad so much 🥹
He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way. "Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls." Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.
Bradley's excitment for his daughter(s) is so pure 🥹
You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.
This is just breaking my heart, she has already so much on her plate...
Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need." You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.
I think I'm gonna throw up🤢
"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.
Oh no, I just wanna hug her 🥺 (and maybe slap some sense in Bradley)
"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?" Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"
Oh I have a feeling Nat is gonna my part in slapping some sense into him
"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it. "You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked. "What?" "The word dumbass written across your forehead." "Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup." Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"
Oh good he is so clueless...also Jake for backup is great because he no matter what will be on BG's side!
"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."
Nat is just the best🫰🏻
"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about." The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity. "She wants in your pants," Jake drawled. "Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about. "Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest. Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.
Oh god he really doesn't get it 🤦🏻♀️
If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it. Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well. Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.
Halleluja! It got through his thick skull
"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."
She's so real for that lol
"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?" "Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."
Jake is jumping on the opportunity to bash Bradley hahah
"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?" "Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes. "Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."
They are not wrong🤷🏻♀️
"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?" "Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.
Oh he is so fucked when they gang on him like that
When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.
I love that he loves doing the bedtime routine🥹
Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly. "I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."
Oh he better start to act like it... I have a bad feeling 🥴
Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.
Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.
She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.
"Are you ready?"
Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."
You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.
"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"
Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."
"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks.
"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with."
Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.
"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.
"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."
A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.
"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.
"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."
He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.
"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.
"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."
He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.
He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring.
Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"
"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."
You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.
"It's a girl."
He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.
"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."
Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.
----------------------------
Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.
"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.
You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.
When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.
But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.
Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite.
When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.
"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.
Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."
You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.
A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.
"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.
When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.
-----------------------------
Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.
As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."
"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"
Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"
Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."
She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."
Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.
"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"
"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"
Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"
"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"
"Yeah."
She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.
"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.
"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"
----------------------------
After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.
He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag.
"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.
"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.
"What?"
"The word dumbass written across your forehead."
He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.
"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place.
Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."
Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"
Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"
"Huh?"
"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."
"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."
The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.
"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.
"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.
"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.
"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."
"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.
"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."
Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.
If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.
Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.
Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.
"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."
"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"
Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.
"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"
Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.
"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."
"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"
"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.
"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."
"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.
Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.
"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"
"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.
But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have?
"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."
Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.
This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.
Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.
Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.
Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately.
Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.
When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.
Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.
"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."
-----------------------------
Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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Crawling back to you
Or Attention part 2
Part 1
Pairing: In Ho x recruiter!reader ; slight salesman x recruiter!reader for the plot
Warnings: hurt no comfort,some suggestive language, reader has BPD, mentions of mental illness
Summary: 3 months after that faithful night in the club, they meet again, only this time, the Frontman was not going to let her go so easily.
Word count: 4.2k
Author’s note: I am so beyond grateful for all your comments and likes! I was truly not expecting for you to like my work. I was half expecting it to flop lol. Anyway, I am unsure where to go with this story if I should leave it as a two part or write more. So please tell me if you have any ideas or suggestions regarding the direction it should go in. In other news, it kind of got me excited to write for the Salesman as well. So please let me know if you are interested in a Salesman centric one shot. The Salesman’s name will be Gong Yoo as I am not creative enough.
The room was immaculate, every detail meticulously curated, as though plucked straight from the pages of an opulent design catalogue. Rich, dark drapes cascaded elegantly over the towering windows, leaving just enough of an opening to let the faint shimmer of stars peek through, casting a delicate glow into the space. Furniture in nude fainted colors. The air carried a quiet sophistication, but it felt almost surreal. If she didn’t know any better, she might have believed she’d just had sex in a high-end furniture showroom.
She quietly put her bra and underwear on, starting her search for the rest of the clothes throughout the apartment. The man she had just slept with was watching her every move from the top of the king size bed, an amused smirk on his lips.
“You know most women would jump at the opportunity to spend the night with me”
“Please, you already know I am not most women” she replied rolling her eyes. “Have you seen my shirt?”
“And what do I get if I help you?” he asked coily, slowly moving towards the woman like a predator watching its prey.
Her face turned to meet his, his eyes taunting her looking for a reaction. She tilted her head and gave him an innocent look. One of her hands sneaked around his neck, her fingers playing with his dark locks.
“Nothing” she said simply and then yanked him by his hair downwards. “We have an agreement, Gong Yoo, and I don’t very much enjoy when my toys overstay their welcome.”
“Tsk, and here I thought we were friends” the man replied amused, a sharp knife appearing suddenly, its blade now resting just under the woman’s chin.
Her soft giggle filled the room at the sight of the blade. This was exactly why he was her perfect match in her nocturnal activities. She did consider the Salesman, a friend of sorts. Well, as good of a friend a psychopath can be. Her head moved slightly, enough for the knife to press between her lips. Her tongue danced around the silver metal.
“And I thought you knew who you were sleeping with” she said casually. “Now, I do need to leave, we have an early flight tomorrow morning.”
She let go of his hair and took the sharp object out of her mouth. His body was still pressed to hers, wearing nothing and God he did look good. But somewhere in the back of her mind, was a familiar older face, chiseled to perfection, dark orbs full of secrets that could stare into her soul who knew her inside and out. She quickly dismissed the thought, focusing on the scene in front of her instead.
“How could I forget? It’s not everyday that the games celebrate 30 years. How would you like to be my date?”
She was not easily surprised by the man. She had come to know him almost better than herself in the last 3 years. And much more in the last three months. It all started once the games of 2020 ended and they went out for their yearly blackjack event. The night began as a way to hurt their boss, but the more days had passed she realized she liked the Salesman’s company. Not in a romantic sense, but definitely sexually. It was a welcome distraction from work stress and more importantly. From him.
It was almost unbelievable how she let a man toy with her emotions again. A part of her wanted to yell that she was over the man behind the black mask, that his rejection did not sting at all, that she simply went home with the Salesman that night because she wanted to. Not out of vengeance. Gong Yoo had become in a weird way her safe space. While the man was deeply disturbed, she saw him as predictable. When the words regarding the gala left his mouth, she was speechless. He could read the confusion of her face and smirked.
“Well, darling, we both know why we started our little randez-vous. The Frontman will be there, no doubt with a date, so I believe it would be in our best interest to show up together.”
“Interesting, and what is in it for you?”
“Oh, I am sure you can find a way to thank me that night” his eyes were dark and intense, watching her every move.
“God you truly are a narcissistic psychopath, huh?” she asked giggling like a schoolgirl.
“And you are such a borderline cliché, my dear” his smirked grew. “Do we have a deal?”
“Absolutely.”
There was an undeniable comfort in the rhythm they had fallen into. Their days followed a familiar pattern: each would go about their routine, which, now that the games were over, mostly revolved around endless paperwork and researching potential recruits for the next year. The office was stark and quiet, tucked away in the bustling heart of Seoul. Some days, the real fun began after hours. They’d invent new ways to compete, often over the most ridiculous games, challenges that almost always escalated until one—or both—ended up naked in her apartment or his. The routine was theirs, equal parts playful and intimate, a strange solace in a world that had once been chaos.
The woman couldn’t lie, not even to herself—she wasn’t over the Frontman. In fact, she hated how deeply he still had a hold on her, so much so that even hearing his name felt like a fresh wound being reopened. Every thought of him sent a volatile mix of emotions crashing through her—jealousy, pain, anger. She presumed it was all of them but mostly she felt worthless, abandoned. The demons in her mind weren’t new; they had taken root long ago, feeding on every rejection, every unanswered plea. And every time she recalled that morning, it brought her back to feeling like a forgotten child, desperate for even the faintest trace of love. But she wasn’t that child anymore. She had stopped begging a long time ago.
So his invitation, although unexpected, felt like the right call. Although not wanting to admit it even to herself, it gave a strange sense of comfort that Gong Yoo would be there by her side and she did not have to face their boss alone.
As they stepped into the dimly lit ballroom, her eyes instinctively scanned the space, searching for the black mask—and, more importantly, the man behind it. It was clear he played a significant role in the event’s orchestration. The room demanded respect. Every detail, from the grand chandeliers casting a warm, subdued glow to the meticulously placed furnishings, exuded deliberate perfection. The air was crisp, almost unwelcoming, with stone statues lining the room, their lifeless eyes seeming to watch her every move with an air of expectation.
A symphony of classical music filled the space, the notes rising delicately from a live band tucked into a corner near the expansive dance floor. The atmosphere reeked of opulence and elegance, yet an undeniable chill lingered, making the grandeur feel eerily detached. Conversations hummed softly, muffled by the anonymity of the masks each attendee wore. The VIPs, ever distinct, were adorned in elaborate gold masks, while the guards stood out with their pink ones. Management’s masks, jet black and severe, carried an air of authority, while hers—and those of the other recruiters—were a deep burgundy, striking but unmistakably subordinate.
She opted for a long gold dress. Her gown was a statement in itself, perfectly at home in the opulence of the ballroom. The fabric shimmered like molten gold under the dim light, every movement catching the soft glow of the chandeliers above. The structured corset-like bodice hugged her figure, cinching her waist and giving her the regal posture of someone who belonged in a room like this. The neckline swept off her shoulders, its draped detailing softening the otherwise commanding presence of the gown, leaving her collarbones and shoulders beautifully exposed.
The skirt flowed effortlessly to the floor, its subtle draping at the hip enhancing her curves and giving her an almost statuesque elegance. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just demand attention—it commanded it. Her strappy gold metallic sandals clicked against the marbled floor. Gong Yoo wore a burgundy suit perfectly tailored to his measurements, looking almost like her perfect accessory. They walked arm in arm to the bar.
“You clean up nicely, darling” his voice purred in her ear. “All of this for little old me?” he added mockingly.
“You know it, baby,” she whispered playfully. From the outside, they looked like the perfect couple. Too bad her eyes were looking for a particular figure in the sea of bodies.
And then she saw him, At the grand balcony overlooking the masses. The Frontman was a picture of restrained elegance, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit that exuded authority and quiet sophistication. The fabric was rich and matte, absorbing the dim light that filtered through the grand balcony. Beneath the perfectly cut blazer, a matching black vest hugged his frame, its buttons glinting subtly, accentuated by a delicate chain that trailed from one pocket—a subtle yet striking detail that added a vintage edge to the modern ensemble. His tie, jet black like the rest of his attire, was perfectly knotted, a seamless continuation of his sleek, monochrome look.
Seated on the grand balcony, the ballroom’s muted hum stretched out before him, but his focus remained inward. A glass of deep amber liquor rested casually in his hand, the light from the room catching the liquid’s warmth. His posture relaxed but deliberate, the weight of unspoken thoughts settling on his sharp features. The boutonniere pinned to his lapel—a delicate arrangement of soft blooms—offered the only contrast, a fleeting touch of life against the otherwise dark, striking uniform. His familiar mask perfectly put onto his face. For just a moment, she forgot how to breathe. It was as if he felt her eyes lingering on him and instinctively went to her.
He raised his glass in her direction and tilted his head slightly before resuming his chat with presumably Il-Nam. The minor interaction made her pulse raise, blood rushing to her ears. God, why was she acting like a stupid little girl with a crush? Was he right that morning? Was she that pathetic? She quickly downed a glass of champagne.
���Atta, girl” Gong Yoo said amused. “ Just remember this is not the place for table dancing”
“Hilarious, does the humor come with the personality disorder or did you pay extra for that?” she asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Who said I am wearing any?” she replied, smirking slightly.
“There she is.” He laughed, a sparkle playing behind those eyes. “Maybe you should stop speaking like that or I might come to collect that favor you owe me.”
“That’s if you can catch me before I turn into a pumpkin, Mr. Salesman. Now come on, I would like a dance” she replied innocently.
“Your wish is my command, darling”
As they weaved their way through the sea of elegantly masked couples toward the center of the dance floor, her gaze instinctively flicked to where she had last seen In Ho. But he was gone. Still, she could feel him—his presence lingering like a shadow, his eyes tracking her every move from some unseen vantage point. It sent a chill down her spine, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Not tonight.
The quartet began a new melody, its hauntingly beautiful notes echoing through the grand ballroom. Taking their positions, she and the Salesman fell seamlessly into the rhythm, their movements effortlessly synchronized. His precision was remarkable, each turn, step, and sway executed with an almost mechanical flawlessness that both impressed and unsettled her. He led with quiet confidence, his hand firm yet gentle on her waist, guiding her through the intricate dance as though they’d rehearsed it a hundred times.
Her gown shimmered with every twist and spin, catching the light as their bodies moved in perfect harmony. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to melt away, the opulent surroundings fading into the background. Yet, even as she danced, the weight of unseen eyes bore down on her, a reminder that the game they were all playing was far from over.
As Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons no 8 : Winter began to play, a chill swept through her, and with a sudden turn, she felt a cold hand grip her arm, pulling her toward him. Her breath caught in her throat. No—it wasn’t just any man. It was In-Ho. Her In-Ho. God, how she wanted to slap herself for thinking of him like that. With flawless precision, he guided her every step away from the eyes of Gong Yoo.
“In-Ho,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Hello, little dove,” he replied, his tone heavy with menace. “Did you enjoy playing house with Gong Yoo?” His words dripped with sarcasm.
She could feel herself getting angry again. How dare he speak to her this way after he was the one who pushed him towards the other man, himself?
“Funny. Almost as funny as your face that night in the club.” She replied coolly, maintaining his gaze. Although she could not see his face, she felt his body tense up , his grip on her waist hardening as well.
“Are you in love with him?” he asked directly.
“What is between me and Gong Yoo is none of your goddamn business. You are the one who threw me out like a rag doll you were done playing, or don’t you remember that? And now you are doing what? Ambushing me?”
Her words cut through the air like a knife, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face trying not to raise her voice. Although she did love indulging in creating chaos, she believed there was a time and a place. Surrounded by her colleagues and all the potential donors for the games? Not a bright idea. There was a certain way she enjoyed chaos, calculated, ruthless, like a contained flame. Moreover, the woman was very much aware that tonight In Ho was to be selected as the new Host by Il-Nam. As much as she hated his guts, she would put on a show, a pleasant smile and clap for the man. That being said, it was taking everything in her power not to yell and hit him.
“I knew you were not going to pick up my calls so instead I opted for a more discreet way. I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”
“What is there to talk about? We fucked, I thought you loved me since that’s what you claimed and then you threw me out. I was being a stupid pathetic girl. There is no big mystery to elucidate.”
Even speaking of what had happened, made her feel mortified. How mortifying it all sounded on her lips. Her eyes were searching the crowd for her date, hoping he would swoop in and save her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Serves her right for believing that he was actually a friend.
“If you are looking for Gong Yoo, Il-Nam wanted to speak to him.” The Frontman spoke as if reading her mind. “Your sociopath in shining armor has more important matters to attend to” he added.
Although she could not see her face, she felt a flicker of jealousy in his words. The mask he wore was impenetrable, but something in his voice betrayed him. A part of her wanted to kiss his worries away to tell him how everything between her and the Salesman was nothing but a physical affair. She would have taken him into her arms, taken his mask off and caressed his handsome face. Snap out of it, you are truly pathetic.
“As much as I loved this dance of ours, Sir, I fear, I need to go and powder my nose, otherwise I might have to shoot my brains out” she said, a fake smile playing on her perfect lips.
In-Ho sighed, but he released her as the final notes of the song drifted into silence. She bowed respectfully, her movements precise, and he tilted his head slightly in her direction—an almost imperceptible acknowledgment. For a moment, she stood still, her gaze lingering on him. But then, with a practiced smile, she turned and made her way toward the restrooms, weaving through the crowd.
Her body shook involuntarily, the emotions bubbling up inside her like a storm. A rush of anger, bitter and raw, mixed with an ache deep in her chest. It felt like her heartstrings were being pulled and twisted, as if every step forward was one taken away from the person she used to be. She clenched her fists, her perfectly manicured blood red nails digging into her skin, the sharp pressure enough to draw blood from the palms. The sting spread through her hands, but she didn’t flinch. She couldn’t afford to. It was the only way she knew how to keep the chaos at bay—how to stop herself from spiraling into a panic attack, or worse, breaking down in front of everyone.
Her method wasn’t graceful, but it was hers. Unrefined, perhaps, but effective. It anchored her, forcing her to stay in the moment, to keep the lid on the storm inside.
Once inside the restroom, she leaned against the sink, her fingers trembling as she fumbled for the powder in her clutch. The mirror in front of her reflected a woman she barely recognized: the smile from moments ago still lingering in her eyes, but beneath it, there was something fractured. Something torn. She closed her eyes for a brief second, taking in a steadying breath, and then began to pat her face gently, as if each motion could somehow smooth out the tension knotting inside her.
Her hands moved automatically, as they always did when she needed to hide what was truly going on. She applied the powder with care, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing, the way her mind threatened to break free from its restraints. Each tap of the puff against her skin was a moment of false peace—a temporary illusion of control. She hated it, but at least it worked.
With one final sweep of her hand, she put the powder away and adjusted her hair in the mirror. She could hear the music still playing softly in the background, but all she could focus on now was the quiet rage that swirled within her. She wasn’t ready to face him again, not yet, but she would. She always did.
Taking one last breath, she straightened herself up and walked back into the crowd. No one would see the cracks. She made her way outside in the gardens. A beautiful labyrinth laid before her eyes, flower bushes in her sight. Her hands opened her clutch again and pulled out her case of cigarettes, carefully taking one out and lighting it. As she took the first drag, she felt her heartbeat slowing down, closing her eyes. His scent lingered in her nostrils. Musky and seductive mixed with his body odor. The same scent she spent hours scrubbing off her skin in the hot shower after the night they spent together.
“Can I have one of those?” his voice rang behind her.
“What? Are you stalking me now?” she asked harshly without moving an inch.
“No, the atmosphere was stuffy and my social battery in speaking to the VIPs was slowly drained”
He sounded sincere, she thought, though she didn’t give him the satisfaction of another glance. Without a word, she reached into her bag and handed him one of her Marlboros. In-Ho removed his mask, setting it down gently on the marble fence. The action was deliberate, almost ceremonial, as if the mask itself deserved reverence.
They stood there in an uneasy silence, the kind that hung thick in the air, neither of them willing to break it. The Frontman searched for her eyes, but she refused to meet his gaze, doing everything in her power to avoid it. Instead, she focused on the cigarette between her fingers, drawing in a steady breath of smoke, feeling the burn in her lungs.
She took a sip from the glass of champagne she had grabbed on her way outside, its coldness a fleeting distraction from the heat building inside her. Above them, the stars twinkled, casting a soft glow across the garden, and the faint hum of music drifted from inside the building. If it weren’t for the tension hanging between them, the scene would have almost been romantic. The flicker of stars in the sky, the music, the champagne—everything about the moment was meant for ease, for connection. But there was no peace here, not with him, not with the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
She clenched her jaw and took another drag from her cigarette, determined not to let her mind wander too far.
“You look breath-taking,” he admitted, breaking the silence.
“Thank you” she replied coldly, but his compliment awakened something inside her. Warmth pulled through her body.
“You know, gold was my ex wife’s favourite colour” In Ho spoke, his eyes trailing in the distance.
The woman looked up to him and for the first time he saw how handsome his face was looking under the stars. Although a part of her wanted to quiet him, she decided against it, instead opting to understand where this little confession was going.
“She loved gold and white roses and those American pancakes that I know you also enjoy so much” he continued. Her eyes looked at him with caution, almost testing to see where the conversation was headed.
“What happened to her?” she asked softly.
“She died.” He admitted while taking another drag from the cigarette, looking down. “You know she loved Vivaldi’s seasons, particularly winter number 8. She always said it reminded her of me”
“Cold, sharp, determined. I can see that.” The woman replied quietly. “But also oh so captivating and tragically beautiful” she added, her words more of a whisper to herself.
His eyes lifted to meet hers, and for a fleeting moment, the tension dissolved, leaving only a fragile, unspoken intimacy between them. In-Ho hadn’t expected it, the sudden wave of tenderness that swept through him, but it was undeniable—and strangely welcome. Something ached deep within his chest, raw and unresolved. Perhaps it was the pain of speaking about his late wife after so many years, or maybe it was the way the moonlight kissed her skin, making her seem almost otherworldly, like she didn’t belong to this grim reality they both inhabited.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, to bury his face in the warmth of her shoulder and murmur apologies that had long been buried beneath layers of regret and silence. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was—for everything. But words stuck in his throat, too heavy to form.
Instead, he flicked his cigarette against the marble, extinguishing it with a sharp twist of his fingers. The ember died quickly, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke curling into the night air. His hands drifted back toward the cold, familiar weight of the mask. It was easier that way—to retreat behind the impassive facade, where vulnerability couldn’t touch him.
But for a single beat, he lingered—just long enough for the ache inside him to remind him of what could never be.
“Are you and him a couple?” In-Ho asked suddenly, his eyes going back to her, studying her face.
“No,” she laughed dryly. “I am not that stupid, I am very much aware of the kind of person Gong Yoo is. He is great in bed, but I am not naive enough to think I can save a psychopath”
“Then why are you here, with him?” Curiosity took the better of him before he could stop himself.
The woman hesitated, wondering if there was any point in answering. Silence might have been safer, but perhaps it was the champagne loosening her resolve—or the charged atmosphere pressing in around them. Something inside her shifted, compelling her to seek his gaze, searching for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to find.
Was that jealousy lacing his voice? Pain? Or just cold, detached curiosity? After all, the Salesman had taken away his favorite toy. But was that all she had ever been to him—a possession, something to flaunt and control? The thought twisted uncomfortably in her chest.
She clenched her jaw, torn between bitterness and intrigue, unsure whether she wanted to push him for the truth or leave it buried where it belonged.
“It sounds insane, but I know what I get when I am with him. The lines are clear, I can see his intentions behind every gesture. I don’t have to worry myself to death about what he wants, I already know it. Sex, an accessory on his arm, a thrill. Someone that challenges him. He is easy”
“Unlike me”
“Unlike you” she confirmed while finishing her own cigarette.
#hwang in ho#hwang in ho x reader#hwang in ho x you#salesman x you#squid game#the salesman#salesman x reader#in ho x reader#in ho x you#squid game headcanons#squid game s2#squid game x reader#front man#young il#the frontman#player 001#young il x reader
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i need more sevika and masc reader now🙏 you got me giggling like a school girl
ur so real i need more too jdhdhshs
Sevika x masc!reader pt. 2
pt. 1 is here !
her big mama muscles and your baby muscles. she trains you in calisthenics: "one more baby you can do it." "you're doing so well, up up!"
she shadowboxes in the living room at six in the morning and you hear her panting and whispering "one, two" while you brush your teeth
you decide to get a midriff tattoo and she worships it i tell you "if it weren't winter i'd ask you to wear crop tops every day."
she's never more in love with you than when you're wandering around sleepily in boy shorts and a tank top early in the morning, half asleep and ready to swing at anyone who talks to you before you had your caffeine (except sevi ofc)
cursing out all the heteronormative propaganda in old movies (but still watching them because they make nice background noise while you have sex)
smoking weed together on the fire escape of your apartment and stoned sevika ends up emotionally telling you she wishes she were yours but she thinks she's not your type because she's a butch and she thinks you like femmes and she also thinks you're really handsome and if you just gave her one chance,,, ...and you're just staring at her in disbelief thinking "yes...this is the idiot i am in love with,,,this is the beautiful idiot i chose"
sevika comforting you on days when you're just fucked over by gender dysphoria and body image - but the way she does it is so silly you forget to even be sad - words of affirmation are not her strong suit so she just puts on your funky tinted sunglasses and says "look...these glasses make everyone look like the most perfect version of themselves...and you haven't changed one bit"
sevika asking you to cut her hair and you panic and watch like 5 hours of yt tutorials only for her to be like "babe. i just wanted a trim"
you're obsessed with her neck. like the back of it, the buzzcut hair, the muscles, my god you could just write pages of poetry about the way she looks when she chugs a protein smoothie after a workout
(you did write the poems, she found and read them, and teased you for days after) "how does my NECK look from this angle babe :)" "sevika i will murder you in cold blood"
the two of you aren't big on pet names. she calls you "babe" or "baby" if she's feeling soft. you call her "sevi" or just her name but then one day she's spooning you in bed and you just say "you are my mitten." "what" "because you always keep me warm <3" "stop."
but she's now "mitten" to you. to counter, she calls you Thing. and refuses to elaborate.
you're both touch starved but you're also both too embarrassed to admit it so when one of you DOES initiate a cuddle session neither heaven nor hell could break you apart - um but maybe getting hungry can
speaking of, once a month you can never agree on what to eat for dinner because you both sync up periods and also always crave exactly the opposite things "why. why pad thai of all things right now." "i need NOODLES IN MY MOUTH SEVIKA" "you wanna know what I need in my mouth?"
"sevika" "mm" "gender is a bitch :(" "put that bitch on its ass"
a conservative relative at the family reunion said they couldn't tell if you were a girl or a boy. you tell sevika this later on and she high fives you
fighting over who carries the heaviest bag on vacations "let me carry it for you sevi, you might strain your back 🤪" "i KNOW you did NOT just call me old."
she plays jazz in the mornings while brewing coffee for the both of you, you blast alt rock in the shower
you being ready to fight a bitch in the bar when she tries to flirt with sevika and sevika having to hold you back
...she turns around and sucker punches a man that same night because he catcalled you
it's all fun and games fearless butch x fearless masc enby until you find an enormous roach in the kitchen and it takes the two of you to fight it
one time you had to go on a trip for work and she wore the hoodie you left behind all week because it smelled like you and she missed you
"is that another iced americano???" "sevika you know me. you know i can't live without three iced coffees a day" "but it's 16 degrees." note: this possessed me oh my god. the brainrot is brainrotting a bit too hard rn @mascdom thanks for feeding my obsession 😭
#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika headcanon#sevika x masc!reader#sevika imagine#headcanons#lesbian#arcane
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PAIRING: CEO!anakin x (crazy)f!reader
Please listen to this song while reading this cus it inspired me in 100% 😩😩 if someone doesn't have Spotify, this is the song I'm talking about;
You shouldn’t have left the bedroom. He told you to stay out of the way, to keep yourself hidden from everyone. Anywhere but downstairs. Not there. Not now. And yet, here you were, your feet betraying his command. If you loved him as much as you said, why couldn’t you listen? Why couldn’t you obey the man you called your savior, your obsession—your king?
Shame hung heavy over every cautious step you took, your breaths shallow as you neared the sound of conversation. Low murmur of voices grew louder, mingled with laughter, with the sharp clink of glasses. The chatter felt endless—empty, like parrots mimicking each other’s noise without reason.
You hesitated, gripping the wooden bannister, your heart pounding as you peered between the bars. Below, the chandelier bathed the room in warm, golden light, reflecting off polished crystal and perfect smiles. And there he was—Anakin. Seated like he owned the world, effortlessly smug, radiating confidence. Those devilish eyes glinted under the glow, and just as your chest tightened, they found yours.
Your gaze flickered to the woman draped over him like silk, her painted nails raking lightly down his chest. Her lipstick stained his cheek, lips lingering just long enough to mock you. She giggled softly, a sound so sweet it burned your ears. And then, like a phantom, her image faded—
You shook your head, trying to steady yourself, but the image of her dig into your bones, ripping your body apart. Her name echoed in your mind, venomous and sharp: Padmé.
You hated how it crawled through you, making you feel so small. It was her laugh in the corners of your mind, her perfume on his shirts, her stolen glances you weren’t supposed to catch.
This knowing for you feeling of humiliation and despair washed over you, burning down every nerve. It got to your eyes, blurring the world in the cruel agony you felt each day. You’d tried so hard. Every carefully folded shirt, every dinner prepared just the way he liked, every fucking sweet smile—it was all for him. Everything. But it was never enough. You weren't enough.
And then the room fell silent.
You hadn’t even realized you’d stepped into the light until every head turned your way, their expressions a mix of confusion and unease. Anakin’s head snapped up from his plate, the easy smile on his lips faltering. For a second, his mask slipped. But then it went back, as soon as it slipped away.
“Darling,” he greeted, voice cool, smooth, masking the tension that flickered in his eyes. He gestured towards you with a practiced smile. “Everyone, meet my wife—the most beautiful thing in this house and the only one keeping me sane in this business.”
The room erupted in polite laughter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join in. You gazed frantically around the room, taking how everyone managed to be the same. Same suit. Same hairstyle. Same laugh. What is going on? Your unsteady breath added to the cursing feeling in your veins, and when your eyes moved back to Anakin's, your lips trembled. When you spoke, your voice was small, broken. “Was it me?”
Anakin’s brows furrowed slightly, the faintest crack in his composure. “What are you talking about?”
“Was it the dinners?” you pressed, twisting the fabric of your dress in trembling fingers. “Were they too cold? Too hot? Was it the way I folded your shirts? Or… or the perfume I wear?”
“Sweetheart—”
“No,” you cut him off, voice rising with desperation. “Tell me, Ani. Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. So I can be what you need. So I can be perfect.”
The room wasn't laughing anymore, staying frozen in its own weirdness. Anakin’s jaw tightened as he stood up, chair scraping against the wooden floor. He tossed his napkin onto the table, forcing a strained smile towards the room. “Excuse me, everyone. My wife isn’t feeling well. We’ll continue this another time.”
Before you could say another word, he was by your side, hand clamping around your elbow. Grip was firm, and his voice was a low, controlled hiss. “Not here. Not now. I've told you”
But you didn’t stop. Even when he tried to nudge you forward to step away. Even when he began to push you to your hell “I tried so hard, Ani,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I did everything for you. I just need to hear it—tell me you love me. Tell me I’m enough for you.”
His grip tightened “Enough,” he bit out, dragging you toward the stairs.
“I just need to know what I did wrong!” you cried, voice cracking with each syllable. “What made her better than me? What did I do to embarrass you? Tell me!”
He stopped at the base of the stairs, head snapping toward you, eyes screaming at you with frustration. “Do you even hear yourself?” he growled quietly, still having in mind whispering room of CFO's “You’re making a scene. You’re embarrassing me—and yourself.”
But you couldn’t stop. The pain, the humiliation, the heartbreak—it all came pouring out. “I love you,” you sobbed, voice trembling as he started dragging you upstairs making you stumble over the steps like a drag doll. “I just want to be perfect for you. Please, Ani. Don’t leave me.”
He didn’t respond. Silence cut through your mind, making everything seem so shaky, so unsteady
Anakin’s patience snapped when you refused to take another step. “Move.” His command was low, but it felt like a whip, sharp, unforgiving.
You collapsed on the fifth stair, hands flying to your head, hoping to steady the overwhelming sensation of losing your mind “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I just want to be perfect for you. I need to be perfect for you, Ani. Don’t… don’t make me go upstairs. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t stand it. Please… please don’t leave me there...”
“Stop talking,” his arms shot out, grabbing you by your armpits and dragging you up the stairs without much thinking. He had to get you out of the picture “You’ve done enough for tonight.”
Your legs faltered, feet hitting against the wood “Ani, please,” you sobbed, voice cracking as the tears spilled freely now. “I didn’t mean to mess everything up. I was just trying—trying to be good enough for you. Can’t you see that?”
He didn’t answer, didn’t even look at you.
Your feet stumbled on the steps, but his pace didn’t falter. “Ani, I’m sorry,” you kept repeating, getting drunk by your own feelings
His jaw was clenched, focus trained ahead as he yanked you into the bedroom. The door slammed shut behind you, causing you to jolt, heart racing even faster
“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the edge of the bed.
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you stood frozen in place. “Ani, please—”
“Sit down!” His voice cracked like thunder, and your legs gave out beneath you, collapsing onto the mattress.
He stormed to the dresser, yanking open the drawer and pulling out the orange pill bottle. Hand shook slightly as he unscrewed the cap
“Did you take them today?” he demanded, holding the bottle up like it was evidence in a trial, shaking it with too much force.
You swallowed hard, voice coming out as a small. “I don’t need them, Ani. I’m not crazy—I’m not—”
“Did. You. Take. Them?” His tone was venomous, eyes burning with something between anger and desperation.
You shook your head weakly “No, but—”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. He stepped closer, shaking a single pill into his palm. “Open your mouth.”
“No,” you whispered, recoiling slightly. “Ani, I don’t need them. I’ll be better. I’ll stay here. I swear.”
“Open. Your. Mouth.”
Your lips pressed together tightly, shaking your head. “No, Ani, please—”
His patience snapped. In an instant, his hand was on your jaw, firm, forcing it open. He shoved the pill onto your tongue and clamped your jaw shut with iron fingers.
“Swallow it,” he ordered
You struggled, eyes wide and frantic, yet his grip didn’t loosen. “Ani, stop—” you choked
“Swallow,” hand tightening ever so slightly, eyes watching you like a hawk. He didn’t let go until he was sure the pill had gone down, with your muffled sobs the only sound in the room.
When he finally let go, you gasped for air, your hands trembling as you wiped at your tear-streaked face. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I just… I didn’t want to ruin everything.”
He didn't give you the pleasure of answering. Turning back to the drawer, he searched for something for a moment before he pulled out the silk scarves, to which your stomach dropped.
“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, Ani. Don’t.”
“This is the only way to keep you safe,” he said coldly, moving towards you. “You’ll understand one day.”
You scrambled back on the bed, panic flooding your veins. “I said no!” you yelled, kicking at him when he reached for you.
“Stop fighting me!” he snapped, catching your ankle and dragging you back toward him.
“You don’t have to do this,” you begged, your hands pushing at his chest. “I’ll stay—I’ll stay right here. Please, Ani. I love you so much I won't do it ever again..just please don't do that..im so scared please..”
His grip was unyielding as he pinned your wrists down, body hovering over yours. “You think I don’t know that you’ll try to leave the second I turn my back?”
“I won’t! I promise!” you sobbed, writhing beneath him.
“Enough!” he barked
He managed to pin one wrist to the bedpost, securing it with a tight knot before moving to the other. You struggled fiercely, tears soaking the sheets
“Please, Ani,” you whimpered as he tied the second knot. “Don’t do this. I’ll stay. I won’t go anywhere.”
Your heart sank, a fresh wave of tears threatening to drown you. “Do you even love me anymore?” voice so small it almost disappeared.
For the briefest moment, something flickered in his expression—regret, doubt, you couldn’t tell. Yet it vanished as soon as it came “I’ll deal with you later,” he said, his tone icy as he stepped back, avoiding your gaze.
“Ani, please—” you screamed, legs kicking against the sheets, monsters spilling out of your mind to laugh at you. They dig their nails to your legs, dragging them down, making you yell, making you cry, blood spilling out like a river.
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#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker#bunny's work#anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#hayden christensen x reader#star wars#:haydennation#christensen hayden#haydenchristensen#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker x you#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x female reader
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hi! do you write for joe quinn or fred hechinger? joe and fred are such cute actors, and i would love more y/n x gladiator cast interactions!!
ty!!! 😊
Emperor of My Heart
PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x reader
WORD COUNT: 693 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting golden hues over the living room where Joseph and Y/N were curled up on the couch. A half-empty cup of tea sat on the coffee table, forgotten in the midst of their comfortable silence. Y/N’s fingers absentmindedly played with the sleeve of Joseph’s sweater, and he hummed softly, eyes closed, seemingly content in the warmth of their little bubble.
Then his phone rang.
Joseph groaned, reluctant to break the peace. “Should I?”
Y/N grinned. “If it’s your agent, you probably should.”
He sighed dramatically, reaching for the phone. His agent’s name flashed across the screen, and suddenly, the air in the room shifted. Y/N sat up straighter, her eyes filled with anticipation as Joseph answered.
“Hello?”
There was a pause, and then—“Wait, wait, say that again?” Joseph sat up, his free hand gripping Y/N’s knee as if grounding himself. Y/N held her breath.
A beat of silence. Then Joseph shot up from the couch, running a hand through his curls as he let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.” Another pause. “No, no, I—I don’t even know what to say—thank you. Thank you so much.”
Y/N’s heart pounded as she grabbed his wrist, eyes wide. Joseph pulled the phone away for a second, grinning like a madman. “I got it. I got the role.”
Y/N let out an excited squeal, launching herself at him. He caught her, laughing as he spun her around. “You’re looking at Emperor Geta.”
They both collapsed back onto the couch, breathless with excitement. Y/N cupped his face, grinning. “You’re gonna be a bloody emperor, Joe.”
Joseph let out a breath, shaking his head as if still processing. “I can’t believe it.”
Y/N pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I can.”
A few weeks later, Y/N found herself on the massive Gladiator 2 set, watching Joseph transform into Emperor Geta. The golden laurel crown sat perfectly atop his curls, and the regal robes draped over his frame made him look every bit the Roman ruler. He stood in the middle of the set, deep in conversation with the director, but his eyes flickered toward Y/N every now and then, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re staring,” a voice teased beside her. One of the costume assistants grinned. “Not that I blame you.”
Y/N laughed, crossing her arms. “It’s surreal. He’s been running lines in his pajamas for weeks, and now he’s actually here.”
Joseph finally broke away from the conversation and strode toward her, a cocky smirk on his face. “Well? Do I look the part?”
Y/N tilted her head, pretending to scrutinize him. “Hmm. I don’t know… You look a bit too soft to be an emperor.”
Joseph gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “How dare you?”
Y/N giggled, tugging on the sleeve of his costume. “You look perfect.”
He leaned in, dropping his voice. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
A crew member called for him, and he groaned, stealing a quick kiss before jogging back to set. Y/N watched him go, heart swelling with pride. Joseph Quinn: her emperor.
The long days on set blended together, but Y/N never tired of watching Joseph slip into his role. She marveled at his dedication, the way he carried himself with a newfound regality. One afternoon, between takes, he plopped down beside her in full costume, exhausted but beaming.
“This is insane,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Every time I step onto that set, I feel like I’m stepping into another world.”
Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s because you are.”
He exhaled, tilting his head against hers. “I wish you could be in a scene with me.”
She chuckled. “Me? In ancient Rome? I think I’d stick out.”
Joseph smirked. “You’d make a great empress.”
Y/N laughed. “I’ll leave the ruling to you, Emperor Geta.”
A runner called Joseph for his next scene, and he sighed, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s temple before standing. “Watch me?”
“Always,” she said, smiling as he walked away.
And as she watched him disappear into the grandeur of the set, Y/N knew—this was just the beginning of something incredible.
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