#If anyone wants to write it i would be thrilled to bits to read!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badathumanemotions · 3 days

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Hey, would you be able to write a nsfw fic with spencer but maybe where a few of the team members decide to play poker at Rossi’s and it turns into strip poker with like a bit of truth or dare and you end up sat on Spencer’s lap with like barely any clothes on or smt. And then like later they end up having to share a room at rossi’s and then yk..

High Stakes

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Strip Poker, Half Naked Lap Sitting, Grinding, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Face Fucking, Dirty Talk. WC: 5,799 I have no idea how to play poker. (Not Proof Read)

"Alright, who's up for a round of poker?" Derek Morgan announced, his eyes scanning the table.

You looked around at the weary but smiling faces of your teammates. After a long, successful case, dinner at Rossi's had been the perfect way to unwind. The aroma of his homemade lasagna still lingered in the air, mingling with the sweetness of their dessert.

"I think I'll pass," Aaron said, pushing back his chair with a stretch. "It's been a long day. I'd love to join you all, but I better get home to Haley and Jack." His eyes crinkled at the mention of his wife and son.

Rossi nodded, understanding. "Alright, I'll walk you out." They disappeared into the hallway, leaving the rest of the team to rearrange the furniture in the den.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You in?" Emily Prentiss asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You nodded, trying to hide your nerves. "Sure, I'm in. It's been a while since I played, but I'll give it a shot."

The table was soon set up with cards, chips, and drinks. You took a seat next to Spencer, who was already shuffling the deck with a focused intensity that was a little unnerving.

"Okay, everyone," Rossi called out as he re-entered the room. "Let's get this game started." He took his place at the table, his eyes showing a hint of fatigue. "But remember, I'm only playing a couple of hands. It's been a long day and I need my beauty sleep." His comment was met with laughter from the others.

The first hand of poker began, with Spencer dealing the cards with a swiftness that spoke of his years of experience playing the game. His eyes darted around the table, reading the subtle tells of his teammates. You took a deep breath and picked up your cards, feeling the smooth edges against your fingertips.

As the hand unfolded, the banter grew more playful, the stakes rising with each round of betting. You watched as Derek Morgan's face remained unreadable, his poker face firmly in place. Meanwhile, JJ's occasional glances at her cards betrayed her excitement, while Garcia's fidgeting with her chips was a clear sign she was bluffing.

Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his cards, his mind racing through probabilities and possible outcomes. When it came down to the showdown, he laid out a full house with a smug smile. "Well, well, well," he said, collecting his winnings. "It seems like Lady Luck is on my side tonight."

The room buzzed with good-natured groans and teasing. "How does he do it?" JJ jokes, shaking her head.

A couple more rounds went by, the tension rising as the pot grew. Each of you played strategically, the air filled with anticipation and the clinking of chips. Prentiss leaned back in her chair, her arms folded as she studied the table.

Finally, after one particularly intense round, Rossi rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Alright, I think I've had enough fun for one night. I'm going to call it quits and head upstairs." He glanced around the table. "If anyone wants to crash here tonight, the guest rooms are all yours. No need to drive home if you're feeling too tired."

The team bid him good night, their eyes lingering on the chips and cards as they continued to play. With Rossi's departure, the atmosphere grew slightly more competitive. You felt a thrill as the game went on, the camaraderie of the team mixing with the cutthroat nature of poker.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a devilish grin spread across his face. "You know what would make this night even better?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that?" Prentiss asked, her interest piqued.

Morgan's grin widened. "How about we spice things up a bit?" He suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Strip poker, anyone?"

The room fell silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up, surprised by the proposal. Prentiss's smile grew wicked. "Now that's a twist," she said, her gaze flickering to JJ.

JJ caught your eye and noticed your hesitance. She leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on the table. "You know, we can always play truth or dare instead," she suggested, her voice low and soothing. "It's less… risky."

Morgan's smile grew. "How about both?" he proposed, raising the stakes. "You can opt to either take a piece of clothing off or complete a truth or dare from the group." The room buzzed with excitement and a little trepidation. You swallowed hard, trying to decide if you were ready for this.

Garcia squealed with delight. "I'm in!" she exclaimed, her cheeks already pink.

You took a deep breath, the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. The thought of playing strip poker was a bit intimidating, but the alternative rule of truth or dare had its own thrill. You found yourself nodding in agreement. "Alright, why not? Strip poker with a twist it is."

The game continued, the stakes now higher in more ways than one. Garcia was the first to go, losing a shoe to a bad bluff. She giggled, tossing it aside and taking a shot of tequila.

JJ's eyes widened slightly as she had to remove her sweater, revealing a tight tank top underneath. The room was getting warmer, and not just from the heat of the game. The tension grew palpable as each player weighed their options: fold and risk embarrassment, or push on and hope for the win.

You felt your heart race as the game continued. With each round, the pile of clothing on the floor grew. Before you knew it, you were down to your last few pieces of clothing.

The next hand was dealt, and you picked up your cards with trembling hands. You had a good hand, but the idea of losing was now more than just about the game. You studied the faces around the table, looking for signs of who might be bluffing.

Morgan leaned in, his gaze intense. "You're looking a little flushed, Y/N," he teased. "Is it the game or the thought of what's next?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. The game had indeed taken a turn, and you found yourself in a situation you never would have imagined when you accepted the dinner invitation. You had continued playing, the excitement and the thrill of the game keeping you in your seat until you were down to just your bra, skirt, and panties.

The hand began, and you focused on your cards. You had a decent hand, but not a sure win. The betting went around the table, each person raising the stakes. You looked around, trying to read their faces, their body language, looking for any hint of what they might be hiding.

As the final round of bets were placed, you felt the weight of the moment. If you won this hand, you could keep your skirt on. If not, well, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You placed your bet, trying to keep your voice steady.

Morgan called, his smile never wavering. Prentiss folded, a knowing look in her eye. Spencer studied you closely, his cards held tight to his chest. Garcia bobbed in her chair, her curiosity and excitement palpable.

As the tension grew, so did the distraction of your state of undress. You noticed Spencer's eyes darting to your chest every few seconds, the effort he was making not to stare becoming more and more obvious. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of power at the sight of him so flustered. The others had also caught on. They knew Spencer's intense focus was split, and they hoped to use his distraction to their advantage.

The final card was flipped, and you watched in horror as Morgan revealed his winning hand. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, your heart sinking as you realized you had lost your last piece of lower body clothing. With a dramatic flourish, you stood and dropped your skirt to the floor.

Spencer's eyes traced down your legs, his cheeks reddening when he realized he'd been caught staring. He quickly looked away. The room fell silent for a moment before the laughter and clapping began again.

Others had invoked the truth or dare clause here and there, but you hadn't yet. Each time someone chose dare, it seemed to push the boundaries a little further. Garcia had to sing a karaoke song, JJ had to do a sexy dance, and Prentiss had to tell a steamy secret from her past. Each moment had been met with laughter and cheers, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the real fun was just getting started.

The next hand was dealt, and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized you had nothing. You didn't want to remove your bra, so you knew what you had to do. You took a deep breath and announced, "Dare." The room grew quiet, all eyes on you.

Morgan's grin grew wicked. "I dare Y/N to sit on Spencer's lap for the rest of the night." A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted around the table. Spencer's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks burning.

You felt your own cheeks rouge at the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. Being that close to Spencer, especially in your current state of half-dress, was both thrilling and terrifying. But the excitement of the game and the desire to keep playing overrode your nerves. You nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Fine."

Spencer's body moved back before he even had time to process the words. His chair scraped against the wooden floor, creating a sharp sound that echoed in the tension-filled room. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise and something else that you couldn't quite decipher.

You took a deep breath and slid onto his lap with more confidence than you felt. His body was tense beneath you, his muscles rigid as he held himself perfectly still. You could feel the heat from his body, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt and into you. Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might leap out of your chest.

The others smirked as they shuffled the cards for the next round. They could see the electric tension between you and Spencer, and it only added to the excitement of the game. Prentiss began to deal, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in the situation.

The next few rounds, Spencer's focus was undeniably scattered. His usual poker face was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a constant battle to not look at you sitting on his lap. His hands fumbled with his cards, and his bets were erratic. It didn't take long before the team noticed and capitalized on his distraction.

"Looks like someone's lost their mojo," Prentiss teased, placing her cards on the table with a smirk. You tried to ignore the smug looks from the others, focusing instead on the way Spencer's breath hitched every time you shifted slightly.

The next hand was dealt, and you could see the determination in Spencer's eyes as he picked up his cards. This time, you noticed the way his thumb brushed against your bare skin as he held his cards, and the electricity that shot through you was anything but calming.

You tried to keep your focus on the cards in your hand, but Spencer's proximity was making it near impossible. His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath you. You thought you had been careful hiding your cards, but apparently, not that careful.

"You're holding your cards too tight," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and gentle. "It's giving you away." You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into him slightly. His scent filled your nose and it made your head swim.

You took a deep breath and tried to loosen your grip, his words sinking in. The whispers continued, his breath warm against your neck as he pointed out small tells from the others at the table. His voice was a comforting rumble, guiding you through the game.

Slowly, the closeness didn't feel so awkward. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in having him so near. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist in a protective embrace.

As the game went on, Spencer's whispers grew more frequent. He noticed every little detail about the others' playing styles, sharing his insights with you in hushed tones. "Look at how Garcia's thumb is pressing down on her chips," he murmured. "She's bluffing." His voice was low and calming, his words of advice a secret shared between the two of you.

You followed his lead, and slowly, you saw your luck begin to change. You won a couple hands, the pile of chips in front of you growing. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the gentle guidance of his whispers had a surprising effect on you. You felt more relaxed, more confident. The daring glances and smiles you exchanged with him grew more frequent, hinting at the thrill you both felt.

Then it happened. As you readjusted yourself higher on his lap for better comfort, you felt it. The unmistakable pressure of Spencer's erection against your backside. A blush crept up your neck, and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His breath hitched, and you knew he was just as aware of it as you were. The room's temperature seemed to rise a few degrees.

You wondered how long he had been like that and how you hadn't noticed it before. His arm tightened around your waist, and you felt a low groan in his chest. You felt yourself start to get wet, the heat and the thrill of the moment making your body react despite the situation. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Without realizing it, your hips had begun to slightly rock against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his cock growing harder with every movement. The others at the table were too engrossed in the game to notice, but you were acutely aware of every little sound and sensation.

Spencer's breathing grew shallower. His hips made the tiniest of movements, pushing back into you in a silent bid for more. You bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it was getting harder by the second.

The game continued around you, but the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Each time his hips rocked against yours, it sent a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel your own breath quickening, your chest rising and falling more noticeably with every shallow breath.

You tried to keep your poker face, focusing on the cards in your hand, but it was difficult when you could feel his hardness pressing into you. Spencer's whispers grew softer, his voice a gentle rumble that made your skin tingle.

Suddenly, Garcia broke the spell, standing up from the table with a dramatic yawn. "Alright, I think I've had enough for tonight," she announced, her cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. "I'm going to crash in one of the guest rooms."

Her declaration created a domino effect. One by one, the others began to nod in agreement. The energy of the game dissipated as they all started to collect their scattered clothing. You felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as Spencer's arm loosened around your waist.

Reluctantly, you slid off Spencer's lap and began to gather your clothes from the floor. The fabric felt cold against your skin, which was now sensitive from his warmth. You couldn't help but feel the loss of his touch as you dressed, the excitement of the moment fading into a confusing mix of arousal and awkwardness.

"Thank you for a… memorable game," Spencer said, his voice strained as he stood up. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding yours.

You tried to ignore the wetness between your legs as you helped the others clean up, focusing on the mundane task of gathering the cards and chips. Your body was still humming with the tension that had built up during the daring rounds of poker. The room felt too small, too hot, as you tried to act like nothing had changed.

The group chattered about who would take which guest room, the conversation light and easy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment lingering in the air. The way Spencer's arm had felt around your waist, his erection pressing into you, was etched into your mind.

"Dibs on Morgan!" Garcia exclaimed, slapping a hand on Derek's arm playfully.

You laughed along with everyone else, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

"Alright, let's all head upstairs," Prentiss suggested, breaking the spell. "Three guest rooms, and we're all adults here."

You nodded, eager to escape the charged atmosphere, and followed the group up the stairs. You felt Spencer's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same things you were.

Without a word, Emily and JJ claimed the first room they saw. Garcia and Morgan didn't waste any time either, disappearing into the room across the hall. That left you and Spencer, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension as you both stared at the last guest room at the end of the hallway.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Spencer's eyes darted to the room before meeting yours. "Looks like we're sharing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of something that was definitely not disappointment.

With a sudden burst of courage, you grabbed his hand, your pulse quickening. He looked surprised but didn't resist as you led him to the last open guest room.

Once you closed the door, you pushed Spencer to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes widening as you straddled his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

"Do you want this?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all he saw was the same hunger reflected in his own.

"God yes," he replied, crashing his lips against yours with a fervour that stole your breath. The heat between you was undeniable as your bodies collided, his hands gripping your hips tightly. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could devour you whole.

You grind against his lap, happy to feel that he was still semi-hard. His grip on you tightened, and you could feel his cock growing harder with every movement of your hips. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, panting heavily. Spencer's eyes followed your every move as you stood up and began to strip away your clothing, until you were left in your underwear.

You sat back down onto his lap, this time with a sense of purpose, your legs straddling his. He groaned into your neck, his hands roaming over your bare skin as you kissed along his jawline. His touch was gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat wherever he went.

Spencer's fingers slid up the outside of your thighs, his touch feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through you. His grip tightened as they reached your ass, cupping you firmly. He pulled you closer, aligning your hips with his, and you gasped as his erection pressed against you.

You rocked back and forth, the friction building between your bodies. His breath was hot against your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone. You wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure grew.

Suddenly, the angle was just right. Your clit rubbed against his erection with just the right amount of friction, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The sensation was intense, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bit back a moan.

With every grind, you grew closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to stay in control. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, you climaxed, your body shuddering in his embrace.

Spencer watched you, his eyes hooded with lust. He could feel your wetness soaking through the fabric of your panties, and it was all he could do to keep from tearing them off.

With a surprising show of strength, Spencer picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You gasped as he laid you gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was desire mirrored back at him.

His hands traced the line of your underwear, his thumbs hooking under the waistband. Slowly, so painfully slow, he began to lower your panties. You watched as he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to the cool air of the room. Instead of tossing them aside, he folded the damp fabric and tucked it into his back pocket with a smirk.

He spread your legs wide, taking in the sight of you with a hunger that made you blush even deeper. His eyes roamed over your bare skin, lingering on your most sensitive spots. He leaned in, his breath hot against your folds, and you shivered.

Without further teasing, Spencer's tongue darted out, licking a slow path up your slit. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. He took his time, savouring the taste of you. His tongue was soft and insistent, lapping at your clit and dipping into your entrance.

You grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets, your back arching off the mattress as he worked you into a frenzy. The feeling of his mouth on you was heavenly, his skilled tongue flicking and pressing in just the right places. You were so close, your body tightening in anticipation of another orgasm.

But just as you were about to tip over the edge again, Spencer paused, leaving you panting and desperate. He slid a finger into your wetness, and you could feel him smiling against your skin as he found your g-spot with ease. The addition of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your legs quiver.

As his tongue danced over your clit, his fingers began to move inside you in a rhythm that was both torturous and heavenly. He knew exactly how to hit that spot, his movements measured and precise, as if he had studied your body's every response. You moaned, your body begging for more as he continued to explore you with his mouth.

Spencer's mouth grew more urgent, his tongue lapping and sucking on your clit messily. He was too desperate to care about the wet sounds he was making, too lost in the taste of you to be self-conscious. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, and you gasped, your nails digging into his scalp as you held him in place.

He could feel your orgasm building, the way your muscles tightened around his fingers. With one final, deliberate thrust, he pushed you over the edge, his tongue never leaving your clit as you came hard against his mouth.

As your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, you felt a surge of energy rather than exhaustion. The orgasm had been so intense that it seemed to have recharged you. Without warning, you sprang up from the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you turned to face Spencer.

You reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer's eyes widened, his gaze drinking in the sight of your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air.

Standing before him, you began to strip Spencer of his clothes. Once down to his last article of clothing you knelt before Spencer, your eyes never leaving his as you gripped the waistband of his boxers. His eyes darkened with anticipation as you began to pull them down his legs, revealing his cock, which stood at full attention. Your heart raced as you took in the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making your own body respond in kind.

You reached out and gently touched his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it. Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you explored his length with curious fingers. The tip was wet with pre-cum, and you couldn't resist leaning in to taste him. Your tongue flicked out, a soft and tentative touch that made him jerk in surprise.

Encouraged, you took him fully into your mouth, his length stretching your lips wide. You could feel his hands tighten in your hair as you began to suck, your mouth moving in a steady rhythm. Spencer moaned, his hips forward to meet your eager mouth. You took him deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You paused for a moment to adjust, then took him as far as you could, holding yourself there and swallowing around his tip. The sensation was overwhelming for Spencer, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hips bucked slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you could feel his muscles tightening beneath your fingertips.

Finally, you pulled off of him, licking your lips to catch the last drops of his arousal. Looking him in the eye, you whispered, "Use me." It was a simple request, but it held a world of meaning. You wanted him to take control, to show you the full extent of his power over you.

Without hesitation, Spencer grabbed the hair at the back of your head and guided his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him. He began to move his hips, fucking into your mouth with a gentle rhythm that grew more urgent with every passing stroke. His grip on your hair tightened.

Your eyes peered up at him, watering slightly from the effort to keep up with his pace. You could see the desire in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide with lust. It was a heady feeling, knowing you had this powerful, intelligent man at your mercy, reduced to a trembling mess by your touch.

But Spencer had other plans. He pulled out of your mouth with a soft groan, his hand still tangled in your hair. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky. "I want to feel you first."

With surprising strength, he offered you a hand and pulled you up from the floor. Your legs were shaky, but he held you steady. You climbed onto the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath your knees. You positioned yourself on all fours, the soft mattress sinking slightly with your weight.

You dropped from your hands to your elbows, arching your back and sticking your ass up in the air. You couldn't help but wiggle your hips back and forth, a silent invitation to Spencer.

He moaned at the sight, his eyes glazed over with desire. He scrambled onto the bed behind you. His hand reached out to cup your ass cheeks, the heat of his palms searing into your skin.

Spencer spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the glistening wetness that leaked from your swollen entrance. His groan was low and guttural, a sound that sent a thrill of pleasure through your body. His thumbs traced slow circles around your opening, teasing your sensitive flesh.

With agonizing slowness, you felt the tip of his cock nudge against you. He pushed in gently, the head of his erection parting your folds. You gasped, your muscles clenching around the unyielding intrusion. Spencer waited, giving you a moment to adjust.

Inch by inch, he filled you up, his cock stretching you deliciously. You could feel every ridge and vein, his length sliding deep within you until you were fully impaled. He didn't move for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled.

Then, once he felt you relax, Spencer set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against your ass. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the rhythmic slapping echoing off the walls.

You whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sensation. It was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't want it to stop. Spencer's hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you back onto him with each thrust.

The scent of sex and desire filled the room as he claimed you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the wetness of your pussy. Each time he pushed into you, your nipples scraped against the soft cotton of the bed sheets. The friction was maddening, making your already sensitive breasts feel like they were on fire.

Spencer's hands moved to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he adjusted his angle. He threw his weight into each thrust, the force of his hips pushing you further into the bed with every movement.

Then he slid one hand down your body, his fingertips skimming over your stomach and pausing when they reached the apex of your thighs. He found your clit, swollen and sensitive from his earlier attention, and began to rub it in gentle circles.

The combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit was too much. You felt yourself climbing again, the pleasure building to a crescendo. You began to moan, the sound muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in.

Spencer leaned over, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you like that?" he whispered. "Do you like it when I fuck you like this?" He grunts out.

You nodded, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. His whispers grew more explicit, describing every little sensation he felt, every way your body was responding to his. "You're so tight, so wet for me," he continues. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight."

With each thrust, he whispered about his desire for you, how long he had fantasized about this moment. "I've wanted to fuck you like this for so long," he groaned. "To feel you this way, to hear you like this." His words were like a drug, leaving you craving more.

"Remember when you were on my lap downstairs?" Spencer panted, his hips never slowing. "How badly I wanted to rip your panties off and bury my cock inside you?"

You moaned, his words painting a vivid picture in your mind. The thought of him wanting you that badly, of him fighting his urges while everyone else played the game, was an aphrodisiac.

As Spencer whispered about how he had imagined watching you bounce on his cock in the middle of the poker game, your orgasm crashed over you. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, the muscles spasming with pleasure.

It was wet and messy, your juices coating his cock with each withdrawal, only to be pushed back in with a slick sound on his next thrust. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal, and the scent of sex grew stronger.

You felt your body tightening around him, your pussy pulsing with each stroke. Your orgasm was still fresh, but the relentless pace Spencer had set had you spiraling towards another peak. His breath was hot and ragged against your ear, his whispers of filthy confessions only fuelling the fire within you.

As Spencer spoke of his fantasies, his hand never ceased its torment of your clit. The pleasure grew unbearable, your body a live wire. Then, as if on cue, another orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake uncontrollably. You cry out, your voice a high-pitched whine.

His thrusts grew erratic, his own need for release becoming apparent. You felt your pussy flutter around his cock, the walls tightening and releasing in time with your racing heartbeat. It was this feeling, the tightness and the warmth of you, that pushed Spencer over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could go. You felt his cock twitching, and then the warm flood of his cum filled your pussy. He groaned your name, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you, his orgasm intense and uncontrollable. The sensation was intoxicating.

Panting, you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies entangled in a mess of limbs. You clung to him, your chest rising and falling in time with his, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. Spencer's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if afraid to let go. You felt his heart racing beneath your cheek. You were both thoroughly exhausted, the passionate frenzy leaving you drained yet content.

After a moment, you lifted your head and met his gaze. His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a silent question hanging in the air. You offered a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. The tension dissipated, replaced by a gentle warmth.

As your breathing evened out, you leaned in to capture his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. The taste of yourself still lingered on his lips. Spencer's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders, the feel of his skin smooth and warm beneath your fingertips. He mirrored your movements, his touch gentle and exploratory, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

Spencer's lips trailed down your neck, peppering kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You nuzzled closer to him, your breathing slowing as the weight of sleep began to claim you. "With how loud we were, we're definitely sneaking out before the others wake up, right?" you whispered against his skin.

He chuckled, the vibration running through you. "Right," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. You could feel his smile against your shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the gentle pressure lulling you closer to slumber.

#request #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #masterlist #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #strip poker

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sixosix · 8 months

Text

synopsis in which satoru really needed to start reading the gc more often. solves a lot.

tags slight making out scene… satoru is an asshole but what’s new, satoru is also hopelessly infatuated, all the readers i write are emotionally constipated sorry, getting together(?) fluff bit angsty tho

a/n this is a little stupid and unrealistic but bear with me because this is my first time writing in a looong time to get back in the groove of writing ^__^

Shoko wrinkled her nose as Satoru made the show of tossing a crumpled-up vending machine can into the bin on the other side of the street. It landed perfectly in the middle because why wouldn’t it? Emboldened by the impressed glances of passersby, he reached for Suguru’s pocket, where there was a balled-up paper in his bontan pants. Suguru winced when it was your head instead, where you had started crossing.

Your glare cut a thrill down Satoru’s spine. You huffed and bent down to pick up the trash, your knuckles white, like you were imagining it was Satoru’s head instead. Satoru was just appreciating how gracefully you’d bowed, the curve of your back captivating him for a moment until Suguru elbowed him.

“Stop littering,” Suguru said sternly, but his eyes spelled out that it was not about the littering.

Satoru shrugged. “I wouldn’t have missed if it weren’t for Y/N.”

Satoru called out after you as you dropped the paper ball into the bin directly. “Oi!” You ignored him and continued walking, a considerable distance lengthening between you and the three. “Ha, you embarrassed?”

“Anyone would be if they were seen with you,” you spat out almost reflexively, then blinked at your own words. Satoru almost swore you wanted to apologize, but you composed yourself by turning your back on him altogether.

Satoru grinned. “It’s okay,” he said. “Shoko and Suguru don’t need to know I had to save your ass from a low-grade curse.”

You didn’t dignify his taunt with a response, but your shoulders tensed for a moment.

“So moody. How does your boyfriend put up with this?” Satoru snickered as he eyed the back of your head. He relished in the way a vein pops on your temple, breathed in the way you looked over your shoulder just to say—

“Shut up, Satoru. I mean it.”

He wasn’t unfamiliar with envious or hateful gazes; it came with his birth, really. Awe and fear and there are impossibles, but not for Gojo Satoru said with contempt—he didn’t care. Yours were different. He took pride in affecting people in ways where they could never ignore him, but the way you looked at him felt thrilling. He wondered if your boyfriend saw how your eyes would set ablaze for Satoru.

But he didn’t actually care, he would say. He never cared for a lot of things. It showed, at times, others would say.

“Whoa, did someone get their heart broken today?” Satoru whistled, his tone lilting upwards in what seemed to be a way to lighten the mood. No moods were lightened.

Your head whipped around to give him a look that had him frozen on the spot. His eyes widened behind his shades. He felt like that paper ball at the moment, about to be squashed flat against your palm. That look felt familiar, but not in the way that he knew he was familiar with because of you. It was familiar because of everyone else.

Suguru shot him a look that said he would’ve shoved him had it not been for his Infinity on. “Satoru.”

You walked on ahead, brushing past them with hiked-up shoulders. You looked like you were about to break at the slightest touch—it looked wrong. You had always looked so strong in Satoru’s eyes. Not stronger than him, of course, but… seeing your lip tremble like that made him itch the wrong way.

Satoru glanced between Suguru and Shoko, lost. “Am I missing something?”

Suguru said, “You didn’t hear?”

“Oh, so you know, but I don’t? What is this? Leave-out-Satoru club? You have a group chat without me?” Satoru did not mean for that to come out that bitter.

Shoko exhaled, smoke faintly billowing from her lips. She regarded Satoru with a look. “Maybe if you actually read our group chat with you, you wouldn’t be so ignorant.”

And so Satoru scrolled through his phone, wounded. Suguru and Shoko whispered among themselves as his eyebrows arched up so high that he looked elated.

“That’s it?” Satoru scoffed. “Trouble in paradise? Y/N almost got hurt by a curse because of some man?”

“Idiot,” Suguru sighed. “You’re also a man.”

Satoru knew what was going on in Shoko’s head with her expression. She was calling him trash. “They’ve been together for years. Before Y/N even met you.”

Satoru bristled. “So?”

“So don’t think of this as some chance,” Suguru said. Since when was he some love expert? “And stop terrorizing. No one brokenhearted would want to see your stupid face.”

He gaped. “So rude!”

And then he backtracked. “And I wasn’t thinking of this as a chance.” He was. “I don’t even like Y/N like that!” He does terribly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to hear from that asshole non-sorcerer again. Have you heard the way he says baby? Even through the phone, it gives me the creeps.”

Suguru hummed thoughtfully. “He was an asshole.”

Shoko laughed. “That asshole got to date Y/N before you, though.”

Satoru decided to spare Shoko, feeling too delighted to let anyone ruin it.

“Did you read all the messages?” Suguru asked.

“Nah.” Satoru stared at the back of your head. “I got the gist of it seeing Suguru’s reply, ‘he was an asshole anyway.’” He flashed his teeth and quickened his pace. “Come on, before Y/N gets flung around by curses again.”

Suguru and Shoko shared a look that he missed completely.

You eyed the plastic bag Satoru was holding out distrustfully.

It was too dark already, but that was no problem for Gojo Satoru. He came here—your room, your door—with a mission in mind. That mission involved ice cream because he saw in movies that people liked to eat ice cream and cry after breakups. You weren’t crying, which relieved him, though he didn’t know why. He wanted to convince himself it was because he didn’t want to deal with tears, but he couldn’t lie to himself well when it came to you.

“Nice try,” you said, pushing it back to his chest. You startled at the cold.

“What— It’s not poison!” Satoru said. He flicked it open and showed you his gift, one you should appreciate for his efforts and thoughtfulness.

“Ice cream?” you said suspiciously. Then it dawned on you. Your lips turned up in a disbelieving smile. He'd take it much better than the look you gave him that day, even when dregs of weariness dulled your eyes. “Were you worried?”

You looked awful, which was probably the norm for someone going through a breakup from a long relationship. Satoru didn’t like your sad face at all. It pissed him off, like some puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Still, to Satoru, he supposed anything was better than not getting to see your face at all.

“Yeah,” he found himself saying before he could think about it.

Your face fell. “Satoru.”

“Just take it, or else I’ll eat it in front of you.”

Your hand gripped the door tighter.

Satoru cleared his throat. “Okay, or you can just shut the door on me and go back to sleep.” And then, silently: “You can just take it, and I’ll leave.”

You stared at him as if expecting him to take it back.

Satoru felt his face warm. “Are you gonna take it or not?”

“It creeps me out when you act nice.”

He glared. “I’m always nice, but I’m not creepy about it.”

Your shoulders relaxed. You took the bag from him with a smile that felt like a shared secret. “Do you wanna come in?”

His first thought was, holy shit, but what came out was, “Sure, I don’t care.”

He had never been in your room before. Shoko was, a lot of times, most of the time. Suguru managed to, here and there, when you needed some help with heavy lifting. You kicked Satoru every time he used to even think about it. Your room was more ordinary than he expected. No posters, flashy souvenirs, or even clothes strewn over your bed. It looked lonely.

There was a box in the corner beside your closet that looked entirely out of place. Satoru must have been staring at it for a moment too long as you said, “Those are my ex’s clothes. I stole many of it, but I don’t want to wear them anymore.”

Satoru’s curious gaze turned into distaste. “Want me to get rid of it?”

“What?” You laughed. “I’ll just give it back.”

Satoru bounded over to the box and crouched, peeling the cover open. “Why not? There’s a dumpster nearby.”

“Well, they were nice. Not my ex, I mean the clothes. Felt expensive—I’d rather he take it back.” Always the goody two shoes.

“Hmmm…” Satoru lifted his head to stare at you. “Did you like wearing them? You can borrow mine. Much better than these cheap knockoffs.”

Your eyes flashed with interest, and Satoru knew he had said the right words. His clothes were no joke.

You blinked at him, a deer in headlights holding a tub of ice cream. “Are— Are you sure? It’s not like I actually need them—”

Satoru wanted nothing more than to see you drowning in his clothes. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I don’t care.”

He shrugged off his jacket and offered it to you. He felt a gust of cold, which should’ve been wrong to him, but he didn’t pay it any mind when you took it from him and stared at it. Your gaze shifted hesitantly between him and the red fabric. Your bottom lip started trembling before you bit it between your teeth, something Satoru wouldn’t have caught if he wasn’t staring. You whirled around and shoved the tub of ice cream in your mini fridge. What a shame. He was really planning for you to share it with him.

Satoru stood up, kicking at the box. He asked, “What were you doing before I left? Boring stuff? Were you watching sad movies without ice cream? It’s a good thing I came over.”

“You didn’t have to, I’m fine,” you said. You slipped into his jacket, the sight arresting him for a moment.

Satoru frowned. Something was definitely wrong. Maybe you were feeling tired? You must have been—emotions tend to wear out a person faster than any physical means. “Hey, lie down on the bed. You look like you’re about to crash.”

“I’m not,” you muttered but followed anyway because you must have felt it, too. “I’m not.”

You winced as your head collided with your pillow. It was unusual for you to succumb to rest while Satoru lingered in the same space.

“Sorry,” Satoru choked out, suddenly feeling guilty by the strong urge to embrace you. He was already crossing far too many lines today. He didn’t want to taint your memory of heartbreak from your ex with him.

You turned to face him, your hair splayed all over the pillow. “What?”

“For yesterday. I didn’t know. This, I mean.”

“You read the messages?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“That’s it? You’re not—” You yawned, blinking. Satoru was performing the highest level of restraint at the moment. “I mean, you’re not, like…”

The air was charged with something dangerous. Satoru looked away, thinking. He wanted to ask, did you expect me to care that much? But he knew the answer to that—he does.

“Satoru,” you said lowly. He shivered at the quiet of the night and how he can almost feel your voice. “You shouldn’t be so nice to someone heartbroken. Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

Satoru sat on the edge of your bed, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

You looked up at him. Satoru felt want in his belly. It was dangerous, he realized, for him to be alone with you like this. It was wrong—but he never went doing everything right anyway, if it meant he could watch as your eyes flutter, as you longed for something he could never have from you once the wounds on you have healed.

“Doesn’t it?” you said. “You’re confusing me, too.”

Satoru realized his Infinity had been off already, though he didn’t know when. Was it when he sat on the bed to feel the softness of your sheets? Or was it already back then, the moment you opened the door, he was already longing for you to touch him?

“You’re so cruel, Satoru,” you murmured. “I hate you.”

Weakly, Satoru said, “I know. Get some sleep. I’ll leave soon.”

“Don’t leave.”

Satoru screwed his eyes shut, frustrated.

“Satoru.” He could listen to you say his name forever. You sighed his name in a way that felt like what aches in his heart whenever you even look at him. “You didn’t read the messages, did you?”

“Did I miss something?”

“If you want to kiss me so bad, read it.”

His eyes shot open wide, a bit terrified. “What?” he said, dumbstruck. “Y/N— What?”

Clumsily, with no grace whatsoever, he fumbled with his phone, your words racing in his head. If you want to kiss me, read it. He bluescreened. If you want to kiss me—

you satoru doesnt read the messages here, right?

you i hate him if i never met him maybe i wouldnt have figured that i was not content with the love i had

you how do i even deal with this? i got dumped by my bf and he tells me if i love satoru so much why not just date him instead

you i love him can someone please comfort me

shoko oh no

shoko condolences for liking the most insufferable man on planet earth

suguru im sorry he’s an asshole you deserve better y/n

shoko the trashiest asshole are you sure about this?

you more than anything, unfortunately

Wait.

The asshole they were referring to was Satoru?

Wait.

Satoru jolts up from where he had been hunched over his phone, gaping at you. “Y/N,” he whispered reverently. “Y/N!”

You placed a hand on his chest as he moved towards you, preventing him from crashing into your space. He faltered. “Wait,” you laughed softly, languidly, beautifully, “not now. I’m sleepy.”

“No, fuck that,” he said, helpless. “Y/N!”

“It’s your fault for not reading our group chat.”

‘Kay, well. Satoru’s eyes narrowed like a cat prepared to pounce. “You can’t just make me read that and keep me from you like this. Why were you so mad at me yesterday?”

“Because I love you, and now my life is over,” you said, smiling.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“My life is over?”

Satoru was seconds away from crying. “Y/N, please,” he said, “say you love me again. Say it now.”

He held the hand on his chest and kissed it. Kissed it again, the back of your palm, your fingertips, repeating the same three words.

“I love you?” you said.

“Well, don’t sound so unsure about it.”

You laughed. “Do you even like me back?”

Satoru stared from the rim of his glasses. Instead of replying, he tugged you closer with your arm and kissed your jaw. He hoped you would get it—that you would understand. He loved you first.

“More than anything,” he echoed. He looked into your eyes, your lips, torn. “Please, let me kiss you. You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, I get a please now?”

Satoru’s eyes sharply dart down to your lips. Your grin faltered at the intensity of his stare. You swallowed, and he tracked every movement.

“You look a bit manic right now,” you said nervously.

“I’ll show you manic.”

You smiled, bumping your ankle against his back. When he glanced at it, you inched closer. His heart leaped to his throat, threatening to come out and get you.

“Are you seriously going to make a move on me now? My heart is broken, Satoru.”

“Is it really?” He grinned. “Or is it just split with me?”

“Okay, smartass,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just kiss me already.”

Satoru cut the distance between the two of you. He crashed clumsily, making both of you wince, but he tilted his head and suddenly— much better. He held you closer, hoping he could wipe away any other men from your life with all he could offer—him, needy, longing, crazed.

“Satoru—” you tried, but it was swallowed by his mouth, wishing you could breathe his name from your lips to his. This was almost as good as hearing you say you love him anyway.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk x reader

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Lost Haven (11/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, the angst, semi-public intimacy, cockwarming, description of someone being shot, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He got his girlfriend back.

Not quite in the way he had imagined, but the thought of him being her boyfriend and her taking it seriously made him feel a wave of confidence after years of doubt.

It had to do not so much with the fact that he had gained what he wanted, but rather with the idea that although his grandfather had accustomed him to the thought that there was a path for him only by his side, he now knew otherwise.

Criston Cole had been the first person to reveal to him how tense the situation was among their men, how furious they were that Otto had decided out of sheer spite to bet on Aegon, his pawn, putting too much power in his hands.

Aegon's orders and the fact that some of their bodyguards now had to listen to him made them turn to him, looking for another alternative.

He was their alternative and presented them with his plan.

Having known them for so many years, aware of what their strengths and weaknesses were, he assigned them tasks, spreading his net over the city, slowly tightening the noose around all the places that had ever belonged to Larys Strong.

He had promised his Rhaenys that he would never kill or harm anyone again, at least not in the way he had done so far, so he decided to rely on his wits and logic. He offered the old owners to help pay their debts and cooperate with them in exchange for them giving up the clubs without a fight.

Those who did not agree experienced a loud gunfight and a bit of fear: he paid the police in advance to stay out of it, so no police car came to the addresses indicated even when someone called the police station.

His grandfather was furious and that pleased him most of all.

By focusing on the fight with Daemon he had completely let go of the subject of Larys' legacy and had paid the price. He also felt pride, because in a way he had regained what belonged to the father of the woman he loved, so it was also a tribute to her.

She only allowed him to see her once a week, but they wrote to each other constantly: he out of sheer longing, she to make sure he was still alive.

Sitting on the couch in Heavenly Beach, despite his employees sitting around him, partying with the girls who were apparently most attracted to gangsters, he sat with his head in his phone, writing a message to her, feeling like a teenager in high school.

He grinned involuntarily as he read her reply, feeling the thrill as he did every time she teased him.

She was trying to keep him at a distance and push him away, he knew that.

He swallowed hard when, a moment later, his phone vibrated and his eyes were presented with a photograph of her lying on her stomach, on her body only her panties and top, from under which a little fragment of her breast was peeking out, pressed against the sheet, her loose hair spread in disarray, her lips parted in a sweet, dreamy, warm expression.

He stared at the picture for a moment, feeling involuntarily that he grew hot, his manhood swollen in his trousers. He ran his hand over his chin, sinking into the world of his fantasies, having not been able to experience fulfilment with her for weeks despite her allowing him to touch her.

Partly.

"What are you doing, boss? Have some fun with us. Alice is lovely and lonely." Said Allan, embracing one of the girls, pretty and slim, who giggled quietly, looking him boldly straight in the face.

He got up without a word and went out the back exit to smoke a cigarette, dialing her phone number on the way. She didn't answer for a long time, as was her usual habit, but after a while he heard her sigh on the other end, indicating her impatience.

"– I asked you so many times – why are you doing this? –"

"– I wanted to hear your voice –" He hummed, taking a drag, tilting his head back, enjoying this moment.

Silence answered him on the other side.

"– my grandfather is trying to contact me – to make a deal – to make me his successor again – but I don't know if I want it – what do you think? –" He asked, taking a drag again, the tip of his cigarette turning red with a quiet hiss.

He heard her swallow hard, horrified by his words.

"– don't do it – don't go back there –" She whispered.

They were both silent for a long moment.

"– I'm worried about my mother – she's torn between Criston and her father, she's begging me to come back – she and Cole had an affair for many years, even before my father died –" He said indifferently, looking up at the sky, spotting the outline of a crescent moon among the darkness.

"– did you know about this? –" She asked shocked, and he sighed heavily.

"– yes –"

His girlfriend grunted, trying to speak quietly.

"– she's not part of all this – let her stay out of it – your grandfather's reign won't last forever – Otto wants you to worry about such things – he knows you love and care for her – he'll treat her and Helaena as bargaining chips –"

He nodded, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, having exactly the same opinion as her, surprised at how much peace he felt.

She was the only one who could understand him.

She was the only one he could get advice from.

She was the only one he could trust.

"Thank you. Sleep well."

"I'm here for you." She muttered quickly, as if she feared he was about to hang up.

He hummed under his breath, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on the metal basket, feeling the warmth in his heart at her words.

"I know."

The next day, the sight of her in the library filled him with both euphoria and frustration – he knew she wasn't wearing a bra to annoy him, at the same time tempting him when he knew he couldn't take her, and wanting him to know that any other men could look shamelessly at her nipples.

All his anger at her and what she was doing to him vanished when she pulled her shirt off, her half-naked body covered from the others only by a few rows of bookcases.

Thank goodness it was summer and no one went there.

Her nipples were swollen and hard under his tongue, her breast plump and soft between his fingers. The smell of her naked skin, the heat that emanated from her, her hands clenched in his hair, holding him close drove him mad. His groan vibrated through her soft skin as he felt her hips begin to roll deliberately back and forth, rubbing against his throbbing, swollen manhood.

"– fuck, let me – please – just this once –" He mumbled, switching from one of her breasts to the other, slightly larger, which could not be seen at first glance.

The thought of being so close to her and yet not being able to have all of her, like he had then, that night, was driving him crazy.

This was her punishment for what he had done to her.

He sighed as she rose suddenly from her knees, putting her T-shirt over her head, his hand involuntarily going to her calf, wanting to hold her, his body hot with desire, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

Not yet.

Just a moment longer.

"– baby –"

"– next week Professor Addams is organising a private excavations two hours away from our town – it's a site in one of the medieval fortresses of our region, very important and he needs volunteers – I've offered to let you come and to count it as your student practices, so that you would have to make up less of them during the academic year – professor will rent rooms for all of us in a hotel nearby – if you come and do your best, I'll let you sleep with me –" She said lightly, throwing him a calm, expectant look, like a teacher looking at her student.

He swallowed hard and stood up with her, shocked, his length pulsed hard at her words.

I'll let you sleep with me.

"– do you mean it? –" He asked with difficulty, unsure if he could stand it any longer, if he knew whether he could pass the next test she wanted to put before him.

"– yes, but it's two weeks – you'd then either have to give up your job, or drive to do your errands at night and come back in the morning –" She explained as if nothing had ever happened, grabbing her backpack.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her aggressively to himself, making her body slam into his, his heart in his throat.

"– promise me –"

Instead of words, she did what she'd forbidden him to do since they'd started dating: her wonderfully moist, swollen lips pressed against his, and he groaned loudly, shocked. He sighed, pressing her body closer to his as her slick tongue slid between his teeth, licking him invitingly, making his cock swell painfully hard in his trousers.

I'm not going to make it, he thought, I'm just going to rip her panties off and fuck her on the floor.

She, however, pushed him away, looking at him with her mouth wide open, in her eyes pleading, warmth, affection.

Everything he wanted so badly.

"– I'll write you all the details later – take it seriously –" She mumbled out with a pain from which he felt his heart squeeze, not knowing how to act, feeling with desperation that he was unable to wait any longer.

"– I love you –" He muttered, something in her gaze from which he grew hot.

"– I love you too –"

He stared at her like an idiot, feeling like he was running out of breath, because here she was, for the first time responding to his confession, for the first time saying those words.

I love you too.

He felt something inside him break, that if he didn't feel her right away he would just start crying.

"– I need you – please –"

"– be there –" She mumbled and walked out, leaving him alone.

He thought it was pathetic that he was so desperate that he hid his face in his hands and burst out crying.

He longed for her closeness, for her tenderness, and she only gave him moments when he craved hours, days, months.

He thought heaven and earth might collapse, but he had to go to these goddamn excavations, if only to spend two weeks fucking her all night.

"Two weeks? You shouldn't disappear for that long. The situation is precarious." Said Cole, shaking his head, sitting with him over a drink that same evening.

"I'll be available at night, I'll come by a few times to keep an eye on things. It's only a two-hour drive from here. This case is really important to me." He said, and Criston hummed with understanding.

"I'll do my best, but let's keep in touch."

He nodded at his words.

"Call if something happens."

Even the news that perhaps her ex would be part of their escapade couldn't spoil his mood: he wasn't sure he'd been this excited and terrified at the same time since he was a small child.

On the one hand, it was a dream come true for him, on top of it being in her company; on the other, it was a leap into the deep end of the unknown in a group of people who were strangers and who he didn't know if they would accept him.

He couldn't help the fact that he didn't like to talk much, that others' questions made him uncomfortable, that he felt cornered when too many people looked at him at once.

Nevertheless, as soon as he got the message from her that Daemon had been gone for a few hours, waiting a few streets behind the hotel so as not to arouse suspicion, he pulled up in the car park and got out of the car, looking around.

He thought she would be waiting for him, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

This made him do what he hated to do, which was to ask a stranger something.

A couple of students, looking at him with surprise in their eyes, showed him the way, telling him that his girlfriend was in the area where the research was to take place.

Walking there from a distance, he thought with awe that it was a huge project: there was a gigantic stone fortress towering over them, around which he understood there had been many wooden houses in medieval times, of which there was now no trace.

He swallowed hard when he heard her voice from afar and stepped uncertainly into one of the tents, all eyes on him.

He felt warmth in his heart seeing that she smiled at the sight of him, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

She loved him.

Not even the rage at the sight of Robb could take away the satisfaction he felt at what he had done to her, at the ease with which her body had taken him in as soon as the door from their hotel room had closed behind them.

He wasn't sure if his brain was functioning at all during this act, because he was too stunned by pleasure and desire, the simple, primitive thrusting into her again and again with low, pathetic groans of delight.

She was so wonderfully warm, moist and soft, squeezing and enveloping his cock so perfectly, that he felt like crying.

His niece.

That night they made love twice more, completely bare, with no shame or regret, no thoughts of morality or propriety. What he focused on were her moans, her cunt squeezing him in convulsions of pleasure, dripping with her desire, his lips melting with hers in sticky, loud, deep kisses full of their tongues and saliva, their fingers entwined together in a tender embrace over her head.

They fell asleep cuddled into each other like little children, stirring with difficulty on the single, cramped bed exactly as they had then, eight years ago.

He felt, looking at her peaceful face immersed in sleep every time he awoke in the night, that he had regained something.

He had regained her.

In the morning, to their frustration, their alarm clock woke them up. They were both sleepy and half-unconscious when they showered together, soaping each other's bodies and hair, brushing their lips lazily against each other's, running their hands over each other's naked, wet bodies.

There was something wonderfully natural about the way her figure clung to his, seeking refuge in his embrace, his arms pressing her against his body, his hand stroking her hair, her eyes closed in complete peace.

They both felt it.

His niece froze and blinked when she saw him start to dress, putting on exactly the same clothes as usual.

"No. After all, we will be working in sand and dirt. I told you to take something to change into." She said, and he scratched his chin, recognising that perhaps, indeed, his black trousers and Tshirt were not a good idea for such heat.

"I took my tracksuit bottoms and some other old clothes, but I won't look very neat in that." He confessed with embarrassment, rummaging through his bag.

She knelt down beside him, looking through his things together, apparently trying to find something that would be suitable.

"You have to be comfortable first and foremost. And you have to have a baseball cap."

"What?"

"I took one for you. Otherwise you'll get sunstroke."

It occurred to him, when he'd put on everything she'd told him to, that he looked like a drunk from under the shop. He was relieved when it turned out that she herself had dressed in a similar way, a white Tshirt and tracksuit shorts on her body, a baseball cap on her head, her hair tied up in a braid.

If they were going to look like drunks from under the shop, then at least together.

As soon as they reached the tent where they were all supposed to gather it became apparent that if he had come dressed the way he wanted to, he would have made an idiot of himself.

They all looked alike, dressed in bright, light clothes that might as well have been pyjamas. He pressed his lips together, spotting Robb among the other students.

He hoped he had heard her moans as he walked past their room.

How good she felt with him as he took her for himself again and again.

The professor greeted them and assigned them their tasks. To his surprise and relief at the same time, the man divided them into three groups. One was to be led by himself, another by Robb and the third by his girlfriend.

Her words that she was his assistant and how much the professor trusted her were not mere boasts, he thought with admiration.

He had, of course, been assigned to her group and was relieved at the thought that for the rest of his stay he wouldn't have to look at her ex any more than necessary.

His Rhaenys knew most of the people she worked with, who were simply her colleagues from the lower years of their studies. They had specific spaces designated for research and their task for the day was simple: digging.

Of course, the upper layers of the earth were removed by special excavators, but at some point they had to work by hand so as not to destroy any artifacts hidden beneath the surface.

There was something liberating and relaxing about the fact that this activity of driving a shovel deep into the ground and digging a big hole in it didn't require him to think too much.

After a few hours, he already understood why his niece had made him put a baseball cap on his head and why they had each brought a couple of big bottles of water for themselves: sweat was running down his back from the heat and from time to time he had to take a break to drink.

To his relief, even though the people in the group were talking to each other, fooling around and laughing, they didn't drag him into any discussions or distract him from his work. Rhaenys was digging too, approaching each person when they expressed the opinion that they might have come across some historical relic.

After only half an hour, one of the girls stumbled upon a coin from the 19th century.

The real excitement he felt was when his shovel hit something that clanked as if it were made of metal.

"Rhaenys?" He called, and though the people around him didn't know who he meant, his niece walked up to him, cocking her head in curiosity, her face all pink with exertion.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, and he hit the spot he had just dug with his shovel again, intending to make the same sound.

His discovery piqued interest.

He crouched down, letting his girlfriend, more experienced and confident in what she was doing, take the smaller shovel, digging around the object, one of her colleagues took the brush, shaking the dust off its surface.

"It's a German pistol. Second World War. Very good condition." He stated, and his girlfriend nodded.

"Yes, the Germans were in this fortress in the 1940s. Good job, Aemond, secure it and sign it. Give this object a number as I explained to you this morning." She said, patting him on the back, and he nodded.

"Your first find. Feels cool, doesn't it?" Said the boy, whose name he understood was Cregan, but he didn't know what he was supposed to answer him, feeling uncomfortable at the thought that everyone was looking at him.

"Yeah." He muttered, looking down at his knuckles, for some reason losing the confidence he gained at night in clubs when he was about to put a gun to someone's head.

When he wasn't about to hurt or scare someone he was helpless and didn't know how to act.

They had spent the whole day doing manual labour and although his erection had swollen all over feeling her naked body pressed against his under the refreshing shower, he didn't even have the strength to move, let alone fuck her hard.

So he ended up making soft, tender love to her, his hips rocking lazily inside her, sinking again and again into the tightness of her sticky, throbbing cunt.

Her naked back was nestled against his sweaty chest, his face snuggled against the hollow of her neck as his fingers dug deeper into her fleshy folds with her quiver of pleasure, his free hand holding her thigh spread wide, allowing him to reach as deep as possible with the tip of his erection.

"– no – it hurts –" She muttered, and he froze and stopped moving, rising up on his elbow, his breath deep and heavy, his heart pounding fast in his chest.

"– what, baby? –" He whispered, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her cheek, wanting to make amends to her for whatever he had done to her. She turned her face towards him, stroking his bare arm.

"– when you're too deep – it hurts –" She confessed.

"– 'm sorry –" He hummed, their lips joined in a sticky, wet, tender kiss. He ran the tip of his nose over her face, his cock twitching deep inside her while his thumb teased her swollen clit with lazy, circular motions, her body twitching again and again in pleasure.

He swallowed hard as she rose up and slid his erection out of her, thinking with horror that she had had enough of him and intended to sleep separately, she, however, turned to face him. He sighed, surprised, as her fingers gently grasped the base of his manhood, all soaked from her wetness, directing the swollen, pink head of it against her slit.

With a tentative, slow thrust of his hips he opened her on his fat length, sliding into her slick walls with ease, sinking anew into her wonderful warmth that soothed him.

He moaned softly as she threw her arms around his neck, as her bare breasts pressed against his chest, as her puffy, sweet lips joined his in a greedy, deep kiss full of affection and tenderness. He sank his fingers into the soft skin of her back and buttocks, beginning to pound into her anew, feeling her completely differently in this angle.

They began to pant into each other's throats, licking and teasing each other, a wonderful shudder shook his body as her lips traveled lower, to his jaw, to his neck, to his shoulders, kissing and sucking on him, leaving wet, warm marks behind.

"– fuck – ah –" He exhaled, feeling his cock throbbing hard inside her fleshy walls, the wonderful tingling in his lower abdomen and testicles filling his head with utter emptiness, pure desire to fill her with his seed.

Their foreheads pressed against each other and their bodies intertwined in a loving, close embrace as they began to chase their fulfilment, loud, sticky splats building their way to release.

"– u-uncle – 'm close –" She mewled like a child, her sweet, leaking cunt beginning to clench on his cock, sucking it inside her. He kissed her temple, snuggling her into his body, slamming into her with loud grunts of pleasure.

"– me too, baby – my sweet little girl –" He exhaled and threw his head back, feeling a wonderful, overpowering relief, his erection beginning to pulsate deep inside her, filling her with his semen.

She moaned, rising and falling on his quivering erection, reaching her own peak with a innocent, girlish moan of delight, sending him into a state of complete ecstasy. They hugged each other, saying nothing more, not separating their bodies, wanting to remain as they were now, as close as possible.

The presence of her body right beside him, the fact that her sticky pussy was warming his soft manhood, his arms and hands entwined in a tender embrace made him sleep a stony, peaceful sleep, tired and satisfied.

To his relief, Criston had kept him informed of the state of affairs and it appeared that relative calm prevailed apart from a few minor incidents, so his presence on the scene was not necessary for the time being.

He took malicious satisfaction in the moments when his niece would be called by Daemon, wanting to make sure she was okay. She would talk to him on the phone while his hands traveled over her naked body, stroking her thighs, belly and breasts, his lips brushing gently against the skin of her neck, merely teasing her.

She usually tried to pull away from him when his thumb, seemingly by accident, ran over her nipple, when his fingers sank tentatively into her womanhood, leaking all over from her moisture and his spend with which he had filled her moments before.

Although he was a grown man, he felt like he was a child again.

In the days that followed, he felt that he loosened up a bit with the group of people he had to work with – he didn't talk to them and concentrated on his tasks, but it seemed to him that they simply stopped paying attention to him, which suited him. They were not spiteful or unpleasant about it: they apparently recognised that this was his nature and left him alone.

His Rhaenys was a different person at work: she smiled and joked a lot, easily having dozens of conversations with all sorts of people, even those she didn't know, winning their sympathy. He somehow admired how unforced her talkativeness, assertiveness and empathy were, how easily she made difficult decisions when others were panicking.

"– fuck – I think I broke it –" Cregan said, leaning over something that looked from a distance like a vase still half-buried in the ground.

"– call the restorers – get them to secure the cavities so nothing else breaks and they're able to put it back together later –" She said without a trace of annoyance or aggression. The boy nodded in agreement and stepped out of the big, wide hole they were sitting in, doing exactly what she'd told her.

"You're good at this." He stated as they sat alone at breakfast break under one of the trees, looking at the large stone fortress stretching out before their eyes.

Although their group sat elsewhere, she chose to stay with him, as she always did.

He felt an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart at the thought that, as much as he wanted to, he didn't fit in with neither her friends nor the world.

He was a perpetual obstacle to her, a wall between what she deserved and the miserable scraps she suffered in his presence through his vanity.

She looked at him and cocked her head, a wide smile on her face.

She was happy.

"What do you mean?" She asked, in some natural reflex cuddling her face into his, her hand on his shoulder. He kissed the tip of her nose, stroking her skin with his palm, feeling a subconscious surge of desire, as he always did when she showed him tenderness and interest.

"You're made for this job. For being with these people. But you need to sit with me instead." He muttered wearily, looking down at his fingers in shame.

"I don't have to. No one is forcing me to."

"You're afraid that if you leave me, I'll become the way I was. You're paying the price for my satisfaction."

She leaned in, wanting to look at his face, but he closed his eyes, feeling shame and regret, for some reason unable to enjoy it all, to relax, to let go.

"You would want this, wouldn't you? For me to disappoint you. To pack up and go home, to escape what is uncomfortable for you. Loneliness is safe, I know that better than anyone. But if you want to be alone, what are you doing here?" She asked.

He looked at her and shook his head, feeling tears burning under his eyelids.

"I don't know. I feel good and bad at the same time. I'm fulfilling my dream, I have you, but I can't enjoy it all because in the back of my mind I'm wondering if Cole is going to call me at night to tell me all hell has broken loose. It's like what's going on right now is a dream, and I'm aware that I'm going to wake up. As if I have to watch something I know I'll lose one day." He mouthed, bursting out crying, choking on his own tears. He covered his ears with his hands and leaned his head between his knees, panting loudly, feeling like he was just experiencing a panic attack.

"– God, Aemond – calm down – calm down, I'm here – this isn't a dream – my feelings for you – the fact that you're here – it's all real – don't you feel it? –" She asked in a whisper, enclosing him in the warm, safe embrace of her arms, pressing his face between her breasts where he took refuge.

He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her fingers combing through his hair, on her warmth, on her scent, on the softness of her body.

She didn't let go of him for a moment, stroking his head, neck and back, placing a tender kiss on his temple once in a while. Slowly his breathing calmed, the pounding of his heart slowed, and his body relaxed in her soft, caring, loving arms.

She let him settle on her thighs, let him snuggle into her lap: she stroked him like a small child, saying nothing, letting him just be, drawing on her closeness, her understanding, her wisdom and kindness.

He thought that if he could die now, in her embrace, he would be happy.

Her words and closeness gave him comfort and for that afternoon, looking at her from afar, sitting on the sand, he thought he was truly happy.

Truly at peace.

And then he saw five missed calls from Cole and one message from him.

"I'll go with you." She said, watching as he changed into his normal clothes.

"No fucking way." He growled, looking at her with impatience, wanting her to get the idea out of her head.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car. Don't leave me alone." She begged.

"No. I'll be back before dawn. I promise." He said, kissing her forehead quickly and left, feeling that if he looked at her again, he wouldn't be able to drive there.

Some part of him dreaded going back there, as if being in the light for so long would blind him to the point where he wouldn't be able to see anything in the dark.

Late in the evening, he arrived at Heavenly Beach and went inside, asking one of the bodyguards what had happened. The man nodded towards one of the lodges – his brother was spread out in the company of three girls enjoying himself at his best, buying everyone a round of shots.

"He didn't pay for anything, boss. He says you're the one paying for the booze and the whores tonight."

He moved towards him feeling his jaw clench in rage, the loud music around him ringing in his ears, the twinkling lights around him making him feel like he was about to vomit.

Aegon spotted him and stood up from the couch, pointing at him with his hand.

"Here is my brother. To him you owe such a great party tonight, applause for him!" He called out, the drunken part of the club guests echoed him in euphoria, but the rest were silent, looking at them with concern.

"I think my brother drank too much." He said coldly, towering over him after a moment, looking at him with a dispassionate gaze. "And he doesn't know that he's going to pay for what he ordered and the women he brought with him himself."

"And where's your woman? Hm? Our pretty niece. Did you know, guys, that he kissed her when they were kids? He was already fucked up then." Aegon sneered, taking a loud sip of whisky from his glass, embracing one of his women, a pretty, blue-eyed blonde with his arm.

His men looked at each other in dismay, apart from the background music all around them complete silence.

"Get up, take your whores and get out of my club. Now." He said in a voice that didn't bear objecting, but Aegon only laughed and sighed.

"You know what the worst part is? He's still fucking her. My father was lying dead and he was in the next room banging that poor girl. Tell us, did you rape her? You surely did, she would never want you of her own free will. But in what position? Missionary? No, no, I know! In doggy-style, like a hound. You have always been faithful like a dog. Woof, woof!" He scoffed, and something snapped inside him.

His brother froze, looking at him with big eyes as he pointed his gun straight at his forehead, the girls around him squealed in terror and broke out of his embrace, moving as far away from them as they could.

"– wow, wow, wow – calm down, have you completely lost your fucking mind? –" Aegon asked in a trembling voice, raising his hands in a gesture of submission, and for some reason he grinned broadly.

"– I didn't rape her – she wanted it – we did it a few more times after that – she was always good to me, unlike you – we're together now, you know? –" He hummed, cocking his head with an expression of satisfaction on his face, thinking in the back of his mind that this was who he just was, who he wanted to become.

He felt powerful, strong, invincible.

"– what the fuck are you talking about? –" Aegon muttered, shaking his head as if he thought his younger brother had simply gone mad.

He, however, had never felt his mind so sharp and focused before.

"– our grandfather made you his successor to reason with me – before our father died he said he would pass everything on to me and that was his original plan – but after Larys put the rape pill in her drink, I couldn't let him live – I don't expect you to understand that though – loyalty, devotion, affection – look at you – you must have pissed your pants with fear, am I wrong? – stand up, show yourself to everyone –" He sneered, raising his voice defiantly so that everyone could hear him.

There was complete silence all around them.

"– I said stand up –" He growled seeing that his brother was looking at him with big eyes red from tears, his mouth quivering in horror and humiliation.

Yes, he thought.

Feel what I felt.

He, completely naked then, standing up to his waist in water, his face all swollen from tears.

"– it's an unpleasant feeling, hm? – humiliation –" He said, watching as Aegon stood up slowly, the large, dark stain on his light-coloured trousers suggesting he was right.

He grinned at him and thought that such a lesson would be enough for him, lowering his gun, but his brother threw himself at him, climbing onto the table, wanting to get him with his own hands, and in a subconscious, involuntary reflex he fired.

His brother gasped heavily, as if surprised, and grabbed himself by the stomach, falling backwards onto the couch, another dark spot forming where he pressed his hand.

"– you fucking shot me –" He mumbled out, and he shook his head, feeling his whole body freeze, people around him screaming and running away, his and Aegon's bodyguards starting to shoot at each other, causing a general panic.

Cole grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him towards the side exit, saying loudly that they should call an ambulance.

He saw her sweet face, felt the embrace of her warm arms, her moist lips placing tender kisses on his face.

He thought that if Aegon died, she would never forgive him.

He promised her that whatever happened, he wouldn't be a murderer.

"– this son of a bitch has to survive – do you understand? –" He said and turned, running up the stairs, several of his bodyguards moving towards his brother, trying to stop the bleeding.

Criston nodded and pulled out his phone to make a call to the hospital.

By the time he walked him to his car the ambulance was on its way.

"– get out of here – hide somewhere – you shot him low in the stomach – I think he'll make it – I'll let you know when I find out something –"

He nodded and sit inside the car, hearing the gunshots again – Criston fell to the ground and hid under one of the trucks while he started to back up and with a squeal of tyres drove ahead.

Only now, heading ahead through streets full of lamplight did he wonder what he had actually done.

He had shot his brother.

He told him their secret.

Everyone heard it, Daemon would find out, and she would be in danger.

He swallowed hard, running his hand over his face, thinking that he just wanted Aegon to feel what he had felt for so many years, that he wanted to teach him a lesson, show him who was in charge, who was better, smarter, cleverer.

Who was the better son, the better brother, the better lover, the better man.

But for the first time he asked himself, was he really better than him?

He was just as scared, just as helpless, just as small.

He had nearly killed his older brother.

That thought, and the realisation that Aegon really might not have made it, caused him to burst into a loud, hysterical sob, and cover his mouth with his hand, trying to silence the sound that was coming from it.

As he drove ahead all he could feel was fear, fear of her gaze, her disgust, her rejection.

Why would she want to be at the side of someone like him?

When he arrived it was almost morning, dozens of missed calls from her and messages asking if and when he would be back were evidence that she had been up all night.

Before he walked into their room, he stood outside the door for a moment, wondering how he was supposed to explain this to her, what to say so she wouldn't tell him to pack up and get out of her life.

He had ruined everything.

When he opened the door he had the feeling that his whole body was quivering, stiff and tense: her gaze, her eyes and cheeks were red from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain told him that she was convinced that he had left her, that he had deceived her, that he had used her again.

She rose and wanted to throw herself into his arms, but he spoke up faster, not wanting to deceive her.

"I shot Aegon."

She stopped in her half-step, looking at him in disbelief, her expression seeming as if she hadn't understood what he'd said.

"What?"

He drew in a loud breath, feeling that he was a little boy again, a terrified child who had broken a very expensive, valuable vase and had to explain why it had happened.

"He was fucking mocking me. He implied that I raped you. In my own club. In front of my men." He muttered as if it changed anything, realising how pathetic he sounded.

The thought that he had lost everything again, that there was no way she could forgive him made him hide his face in his hands and just weep.

All he wanted was for her to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, that she knew he had hurt and abused him all his life, that she had witnessed it herself.

That she understood that something had simply snapped inside him.

"Is he...is he dead?"

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself, his breath heavy and hitched in panic, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"I don't know. I shot him in the stomach and he's in hospital. He threw himself at me and scared me and I just fired. He saw I had a fucking gun in my hand!" He exclaimed as if he was ten years old and had just told his mum why his brother was lying unconscious on the floor after their fight.

"So you didn't kill him, did you? You didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. He scared you and you fired, but if he hadn't, you wouldn't have shot him." She said slowly in a trembling, terrified voice, and he lowered his hands, looking at her with big eyes, thinking that some part of him wanted to kill him then.

And then he remembered that after he felt that justice had been done, his hand with the gun lowered.

"– I – I just wanted him to stop laughing – he asked if I acted like a dog when I raped you – and I – God, baby, I told him about us in front of everyone – that we are together –" He mouthed, shaking his head, feeling completely naked, her expression of sadness and disappointment made him just sit on the bed, hide his face in his hands and cry, cry, cry.

"– I didn't mean it – I didn't know what to do – he wanted to humiliate me – me and you by spreading such rumours – I decided it was better to tell the truth than – I don't know – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled, himself not knowing where he was going with this thought, feeling a huge, cold emptiness.

He tensed all over hearing her footsteps, lifting his gaze to her, thinking for some reason that she was going to slap him.

She, however, knelt between his thighs, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"– it would have come out eventually anyway – Aemond, I need to know what is going on inside your mind – if you –"

She asked, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone. He took it quickly out of his pocket seeing that his mother was calling him and swallowed hard feeling that he couldn't do it.

"– pick up – you have to do it, maybe she knows if Aegon is alive –"

But what if his brother was dead?

If he killed him with his own hands?

"– I can't – I don't want to –"

"– Aemond – prove to me who you are – take responsibility –"

He covered his face with his hand as he answered and put his phone to his ear.

"– is he alive? –" He muttered.

"– thank God yes – Aemond –" Alicent said, but he didn't let her finish, afraid of what she wanted to tell him.

That he had already been disgusting as a child and was a disgusting man now too.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Mum, it was an accident, I swear – he was drunk and he threw himself at me seeing that I had a gun in my hand and I just –"

"– I know – Aegon told me everything – he admitted he provoked you – but I don't understand how you could have let this happen – you are brothers – you almost killed each other for what? – for a few bags of drugs, thick files of money? –" She asked, and he closed his eyes, warm tears one after another flowing down his cheeks.

"– he said I raped her –"

Alicent was silent for a moment.

"– where are you now? – come to the hospital – apologise to each other, explain everything, start all over again –" His mother pleaded, but he wasn't sure if there was anything left that they could fix.

"– I don't know if I want to see him ever again, Mum – I want to rest – let him know I hope he recovers quickly and that I'm sorry –" He muttered and hung up, feeling he had nothing more to say to her.

His niece looked at him in pain, her hands on his thighs as she knelt between his legs.

If Alys had been sitting in her place, all he would have thought about was putting his cock down her throat, but in her case, there was something in her expression that made him crave something completely different, but equally intense.

"– please, embrace me –" He mumbled out, before hot tears again ran down his face one by one, his sobs so pitiful that she stood up quickly, frightened, and let their silhouettes fall together on the bed.

It wasn't until her arms hugged him into her chest, when his hands closed on her back, that he felt his whole body trembling.

"– close your eyes – breathe –" She whispered, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, her fingers combing lazily through his short hair.

He did as she said and tried to focus only on the air he was letting in and out of his mouth, all around them the quiet singing of birds amid the rising sun.

"– don't leave me –" He muttered, snuggling tighter into her warm, familiar body, her wonderful scent filling his entire lungs.

He heard her sigh softly, her hand stroked his back reassuringly.

"– I know how much you are suffering – I am here – you are safe now –" She said, and he felt his heart stop for a moment.

I know how much you are suffering.

I am here.

You are safe now.

He had longed to hear this from his mother, his father, his brother, from her for so many years that when it finally happened his body just froze.

"– I love you –" He whispered, however differently than usual, feeling like he was suffocating. "– God, I love you so much –"

His niece texted her friend that she and him had poisoned themselves with something and that they would come to work later, wanting him to take at least a little nap, knowing that he would fall into despair if she left him alone even for a moment.

He fell asleep only when he unbuttoned her shirt and cuddled his face between her bare, plump breasts, the warmth and softness of her naked body, her long fingers running over his head soothed him.

Despite what he feared, she understood him.

It's always been this way.

When she woke him, telling him she had to go, he begged her to just let him stay as he was, her skin warm and drenched with her scent, his body pressed against hers in a natural, vulnerable embrace.

"– I have to – I should have been there hours ago – but you stay, get some sleep –" She whispered, stroking his head. His eyebrows arched in pain as he shook his head at her words, roaming his hands over her body in a gesture of desperation, trying to stop her.

"– no – no –"

"– Aemond – please –" She said in pain, pressing him against her again hearing his heavy, loud breath, tears squeezing into his eyes.

She sighed.

"– come with me then –"

And he did, because he didn't want to be alone.

When they went outside for the first time she took his hand in hers, exactly like when they were little children playing on the beach. He tried to control himself, but the squeeze in his throat was proof that he wanted to cry again.

He was so exhausted.

"– don't work today – sit under the tree – I'll be next to you –" She said when they got there, but he shook his head and squeezed her fingers tighter between his own.

She looked at him with a gaze in which he saw everything – worry, affection, concern, sadness, understanding, desire. He felt his heart grow hot as his free hand rose to her face, running gently over her jawline, and she nuzzled her cheek into it, closing her eyes.

He leaned in and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing he'd ever done – her lips welcomed him with gentleness and tenderness, parting before his tongue, letting him slide it lazily inside. Her fingers stroked his neck as they clung to each other, sunk only in that sweet, sticky pleasure, humming contentedly, not caring if anyone saw it.

And then he heard it.

The screech of tyres.

By the time he heard her squeal and turned to see what was happening Daemon was already standing in front of him, his fist hit him in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, losing his hearing for a moment.

"– STOP IT –" He heard her scream as her step-father turned him onto his back, punching him with his fist again, again and again, warm liquid trickled from his nose, but he did not resist.

"– I promised you this –" He hissed with rage. "– I promised you that if you didn't leave her alone, I would kill you with my own hands –"

"– DAD, STOP – STOP, STOP, STOP –" She whimpered, trying to pull him away, several people interrupted their work, wanting to see what was happening, looking at this scene in disbelief.

Finally, professor Addams and Robb came out of the tent, hearing loud screams outside.

"– what is the meaning of this? – stop immediately, that's my student! –" The professor shouted. Daemon laughed and stood up from his knees, pointing his finger at her.

"– and that's my daughter and I'm taking her home –"

"– no –"

Daemon looked at her in a way that made her tremble with fear, his jaw clenched as tightly as if it was about to burst.

"– with you I will speak later –" He growled.

"– I won't go with you –"

Daemon wanted to grab her arm, and in a natural reaction he wanted to get up and protect her, however he was preceded by Robb, standing between her and her father.

"– she said no – she's an adult – should I call the police? – he can sue you for assault, you know that? –" He asked, a long, heavy silence fell around them.

He stood up, looking at him, then at her, Daemon's gaze fixed on her face.

"– if you don't come back with me, I can no longer protect you – you will break your mother's heart –" He said coldly, his words intended only for her.

He looked at her in horror, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

Her gaze when her eyes finally turned towards him was full of fear that because of him she would lose her future, her family, her peace of mind and everything she had before he stormed into her life again.

"– you promised me –" He muttered in a trembling voice, looking only at her, the only person who could give him what he desired.

She had promised him that if he tried, if he came here, if he changed, they would spend two weeks together.

"– I did –" She whispered and he felt his heart stop, convinced that this was it.

Their end.

"– let's get back to work –" She said and turned as if nothing had happened, heading towards one of the tents, startling him and everyone around him.

"– come here, I said! –" Growled Daemon, wanting to lunge at her and take her home by force, but Robb blocked his way again.

"– enough – one more step and I'll really call the police –" He threatened, her step-father's gaze shifting to his face after a moment.

He turned away, angry and pale, his hands clenched into fists as he got into his car and drove off with a loud screech.

Feeling his heart pounding like mad and not wanting to be left alone with Robb, he moved after her, adrenaline pulsing hard through his veins.

She had sacrificed herself for him.

Her family, her home.

Just for him.

When he stepped inside he wanted to embrace her, but she shook her head.

"Sit down. I'll get you some ice. Your cheek is all swollen." She said calmly, taking a few cubes out of the fridge and it was only then that he saw how much her hands were trembling.

"– baby – come here –" He whispered, gently placing his hand on the back of her head, and although she resisted for a moment, she finally allowed him to put his arms around her and cuddle her into him.

Her body was shaking.

"– I know, baby – it was very scary – I'm here –" He hummed tenderly, stroking her hair and back, his face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

"– I don't think I have anywhere to go back to –" She mumbled out with difficulty, heartbroken, and burst out into a quiet, exasperated cry.

He swallowed hard, hugging her tighter to him, coming up with an idea he knew their family would definitely not like.

"– you will live with me –"

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fandomkingdom18 · 1 month

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some silly little headcanons i have specifically for my au of the outsiders that i felt the need to write down all in one place.

after their parents died, darry made a deal with the state that he could keep his brothers as long as they're able to support themselves

so darry got three jobs, roofer, contractor, and uh...yk what.

two-bit who was almost 18 started working at a grocery store cause i said so

dally managed to get a job as a bartender at bucks

and ofc soda and steve work at the dx

johnny and pony don't have jobs yet cause the others don't want them to because they're "too young"

(when really they're 14 and 15 and are in fact old enough)

when everyone else is at work, johnny and pony stay home and watch movies. like binge watch.

they once thought they could handle horror movies.

they couldnt.

they were latching on to darry when he got home.

dinner at their house is chaotic.

they're yapping over each other and darry's trying to get them to settle down so that people don't report a noise complaint on them.

how to bribe the curtises?

not money.

not gold.

these big backs only listen when there's dessert involved.

even after a 12 course meal, if they're hungry in the middle of the night and sneak out to the kitchen, there will most likely already be someone there

steve and soda used to share a room.

keyword: used to

they would stay up all night giggling and shi

same thing with pony and johnny.

so steve and pony swapped rooms.

darry regrets it cause now soda and pony cant stop giggling, but he can't stop it so he just gave up

so therefore dally and two bit share a room.

dally isn't thrilled

two bit yaps

dally needs sleep or he'll be grumpy in the morning

but two-bit contradicts him saying that dally is gonna be grumpy either way.

and then dally comes at him about still living in the house as an adult and then teases him for his lack of ability to pull

dally would try to find a way to get darry to let him sleep in his room if darry weren't such a heavy snorer

(dally snores too)

(but he refuses to accept it)

darrys the type to need his morning coffee before speaking to anyone

dal just doesnt want to speak to anyone

ponys a night owl.

they'll tell him to go to sleep and pony will be like "just one more chapter"

but he keeps reading and suddenly the birds are chirping

johnny tried to protest this once back when they shared a room

to say he'll stay awake too unless pony goes to sleep

he fails and ends up falling asleep.

pony gives him a pat on the head and continues to stay awake until the sun shined through the window.

pony then proceeds to sleep the day away

(same)

#the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders musical #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #dallas winston #johnny cade #steve randle #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #the outsiders headcanons #headcanons #the outsiders au #the outsiders hcs #fandomkingdom18

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pastanest · 7 months

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Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #spencer reid headcannon #spencer reid imagines

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exhaslo · 11 months

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OML IM SO DOWN BAD FOR A TEACHER!MIGUEL AND SHY & QUIET FEM!READER WHERE THEY ARE LIKE SECRETLY DATING AND READER IS JS DOING HER WORK IN CLASS TRYING TO FINISH AS QUICK AS POSSIBLE AND FINISHES LIKE THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE CLASS ENDS AND STARTS WRITING ONESHOTS OF RANDOM FICTIONAL CHARACTERS FROM HER BOOKS THAT SHE READS AND MIGUEL JS ASKS FOR HER TO STAY AFTER CLASS (now playing:teachers pet - Melanie Martinez)

Ohhhhhh I gots this! Oh and just to be safe:

Warning: Minors DNI, Minor smut, thigh riding

--------------------

It started with a simple misunderstanding. You, who had just started college, and Miguel, the newest and hottest Professor in school, had a mix up. Miguel was supposed to meet with a fellow teacher and you were supposed to meet with a tutor. When the two of you were alone in the office, one thing led to another.

Miguel was fascinated with getting you to come out your shell just for him. He loved how quiet you were in class and how you always avoided answering questions. You were just the perfect little shy angel he had always wanted. If only you were not his student. Dating you was difficult since it had to be a secret.

Luckily, you were good at keeping it. You had a very small group of friends and Miguel had an even smaller one. He'd help you tutor while you sat on his lap. Your cute flustered cheeks giving him a thrill each time. Miguel wanted to test your limits. He wanted to hear your shy little voice cry for him.

It was nearing the end of the semester and you were cramming to finish your essay in time. Miguel was watching you, along with the other students. He walked around the classroom by the time there was thirty minutes left, wanting to make sure everyone was focusing on their report.

"Miles, if you have time to doodle, you have time to write." Miguel said sternly as he passed another student.

His red orbs then turned towards you. Like a lit fire, he drew closer, wanting to see what his precious little girlfriend was writing. You were focused. Something that was a rare, yet welcomed sight. As he approached your desk, his eyes widen with surprise. You were not working on your essay, you were working on something else.

"(Y/n), see me after class." Miguel told you.

You couldn't help but squeak before quickly returning to your essay. Once the bell rang, you played with your fingers, waiting for everyone to leave. Once they did, Miguel approached the door and locked it. He closed the curtain and patted his thigh. You shyly walked up to him, taking a seat on his large thigh.

"S-Sorry, I got...distracted." You admitted. Miguel's smirk grew wider,

"I noticed. Writing something so bold in the middle of class. How will people react to finding out the shy girl likes her smut?"

"M-Miguel! Y-You wouldn't!" You squeaked, tears threatening to spill. Miguel chuckled, wiping those tears away with a kiss,

"Of course not, but I want to know where those ideas came from." He said with a hum.

You bit your lower lip, covering your face with your sleeve. You tried to avoid eye contact, but it was hard with Miguel. He was just too handsome for you to avoid.

"Y-You," You whispered. Miguel licked his lips, holding your chin,

"Then do something instead of write it."

His demanding tone was so sexy. You spread your legs over his thigh, slowly grinding your hips against him. You had to be careful. Miguel was your teacher. If anyone caught you two, then you would probably be expelled from the college and Miguel would be fired. You didn't want that, especially with how exciting this was.

Miguel was watching as you dry humped his leg. Your damp panties already staining his pants. Miguel's grin grew wider as he watched his shy princess grow bolder with him. Soft whimpers as moans were escaping your lips, turning him on.

"What a naughty student. Couldn't finish your essay on time and trying to get a better grade?" Miguel played along. You flinched towards his words, "Is that right?"

"Y-Yes. I...I need to pass this class, professor," You whimpered, glancing at him with glossy eyes. Miguel groaned quietly, holding your hips as you grinded faster,

"Well this will guarantee a B. If you want an A...You're going to have to see me after hours, in my private office."

"Y-Yes, sir." You moaned lowly, shaking as you cam. Miguel sat you up on his desk, kissing you deeply,

"Then it's a date."

Right before Miguel dismissed you, he gave you a small smack on the ass. You yelped and blushed furiously before noticing the stain you made on his pants. Turning even redder, you apologized to him before running off. Miguel just chuckled in response, watching you run off.

"She's getting more than just an A."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed ;)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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fiendishfables · 8 months

Text

Future (short) series idea

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem! Angel! Reader (I’m probably going to make different versions for each, so a Male and GN, as well)

Feedback on the idea is very much appreciated; I would love to hear y'all lovely peoples thoughts on this concept I am stuck on. Its nothing special but still, haha-

Also don’t forget, my requests are always open! Please, request, request, request! I need things to write! :D

Synopsis/General idea: Reader is one of Adam's assistants/part of the exorcist angels and Lucifer comes to visit Heaven with his daughter, Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell and owner of the Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer is instantly entranced by the reader, as he recognizes them from back when he used to reside in Heaven; when he too used to be an angel all that time ago. The reader and Lucifer, when they both had been in Heaven, had snuck around and hooked up a couple times, but it had never gone public and was never intended to.

He is staring at you throughout the whole meeting with Adam and Lute, (when he's not busy glaring and making smug faces at the 'first man' from across the table), oblivious to what his daughter is preaching or trying to. The reader is well on Charlie's side and on-board with her ideas; she tried many times to convince Adam before and now, or to atleast think about it.

The reader ends up coming to hell with Lucifer and Charlie because she wants to ‘check out’ the hotel and this cooperation Charlie is trying to make with Heaven. Lucifer looks about ready to burst from excitement.

(End of part 1?)

Maybe there is a day before she comes down to hell, and not right after the meeting. Lucifer could be standing in his room in front of his mirror, trying to pep-talk himself into making a good impression on you. Charlie is possibly there to reassure her dad that he looks fine and that he won’t mess things up(again); she’s secretly so thrilled that the reader is able to make her dad feel so giddy and happy, especially after Lilith. He needs someone to keep him company and you seem like just the soul to do it. But of course there is the problem with the reader being in Heaven and Luci being in Hell; good ol’ forbidden love

Charlie ends up showing the reader around the hotel when she comes down from Heaven, and Lucifer sort of just stands by awkwardly. The reader is a bit cold towards him, but they are mainly just scared that he might disappear from their life again, and maybe even a tad resentful at him for being so stupid and doing whatever it was that made him fallen in the first place.

But then of course they end up having sex in the hotel after Charlie offered the reader a stay for the night so they didn’t need to go back to Heaven so late in the night. Make-up, angsty, lovey dovey, etc. Reader may also slip up and call him Luci a couple times instead of Lucifer; she only called him Luci back when they were both in Heaven together and good friends

Honestly- I have no fucking idea where this is going, but if anyone would be interested in reading this small series I’m coming up with, please interact/let me know! I plan to start working on it after I get some requests done. Just had to get this spew of word vomit out of my head-

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bratbutcute · 5 months

Text

A sparkle in the night

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pair: Alastor and Vox. A bit platonic, a bit romantic, could be read in different ways.

Disclaimer: Nothing other than it’s a SFW tickle fic. They are also slightly ooc but tbh we don’t really know since I’m describing a moment that happened before the series takes place sooooo… who knows (but honestly, Alastor is much too sweet to be canon).

Also I had fun with some fonts I found online, I don’t know if that is a problem so if you find difficulties reading please tell me and I’ll change it!

Vox is stressed and wants to reminisce old times, old friends, old feelings.

I got the idea for this from this fic by @starlight-write. I wanted to explore Alastor and Vox’s relationship before whatever happened between them.

I hope you all enjoy it!

~~~

Hell had changed a lot since Vox first arrived. He had met many Overlords who now weren’t ‘alive’ anymore, killed by Angels or by other sinners. He had seen Hell change its geography, different shops rising and then succumbing to nefarious fate.

He had met friends along the way, and he had lost them too.

Vox had learnt that the afterlife was just as complicated and confusing as his past life: people were hard to read, it was hard to understand their needs and, honesty, he wasn’t very good at accommodating them. Of course it was easy to solve people problems work wise (most of the times he was the one creating a fake problem and giving the public a new product as a solution), but when it came to personal business he couldn’t just hypnotise everyone. Well he could but…

He was alone in his personal room, monitors all over him, phones and computers all around him. Even if he was alone he was constantly under the spotlight. He knew he had to prove he was stronger. That he wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.

That’s how he would spend the majority of his afterlife: surrounded by his constant eyes, recording every movement he himself ever made.

So that’s why he felt so excited when he turned off every single monitor except for the bigger one in front of him. He shut down every camera or microphone around him. Unrecorded. Unregistered moments.

A shiver ran down his spine.

After seeing that ghost of his past back again after seven years of absence he had to see something. Something that was his and his only.

What he was looking for was an old memory, one that he had to update digitally from his old headset.

Everything was meticulously categorised so it didn’t take long before he found what he was looking for.

The video started.

And he was almost 45 years younger, he had a different - and much heavier - headset and an ‘old pal’ next to him.

They were in the middle of an animated conversation in a remote bar in the pride ring. Everybody was keeping their distance from them and the moody bartender kept sending them drink after drink.

«Television is much more than photography you radio obsessed demon. Television is alive, it’s thrilling!» Vox exclaimed standing up and stomping his foot on the chair in front of him. Alastor looked at the action with little to no reaction, his usual smile plastered on his face.

«You, young man, are as loud as a cow at the slaughterhouse. That is in no way an Overlord behaviour.» he said squeezing his shoulder and inviting Vox to sit again.

Vox blinked in confusion - and slight worry because of the metaphor - before pouting as a scolded child. He got himself back on the high stools next to the counter dangling his feet.

Alastor poured another whiskey in his glass.

«I admire your enthusiasm, but you have to understand that Hell is different from Earth. You cannot show demons your… moving pictures and expect them to simply follow you. You need to plan. To be strategic. Logical.» he offered the drink to Vox, who looked at the goldish liquid with skepticism.

Alastor’s smile grew bigger. «A peace offer?». Vox sighed and gulped it down in one shot, much to Alastor’s disapproval.

«I think you’re complicating your life too much! I can hypnotise people!» he pointed at his eyes as the pupil changed, but Alastor was unfazed.

«It doesn’t work on me.»

«Yeah I still have to understand why…» he sighed as his head started to spin. His face became a bit foggy, just for a moment.

That made Alastor grin wider. «Is the strong and powerful aspiring Overlord feeling a bit dizzy?»

«Fuck you I am not. You’re just-» he looked down at his empty glass and grabbed the bottle to refill it. «I am an Overlord! ‘M not aspiring to be anything you pompous-» but he was cut off by Alastor cupping Vox’s hands with his and helping him pour the drink. Vox’s heart skipped a beat as his antennas sparkled.

«You were saying?» he hummed, fully aware of what he was doing.

«Fuck you.»

Alastor’s smiled softened «Charming.» and Vox smiled back, rolling his eyes.

They had these kind of conversations every time they hang out. They would go to a bar and sit far away from everyone, start bickering, try to get a deal one from the other only to call it even and repeat this cycle every few days. Vox kept convincing himself that these encounters weren’t a big deal but things like that, like that genuine smile, made him doubt that.

Vox drank his whiskey quickly, just to see Alastor’s ear flicker in dismay, a gesture Vox had learnt to recognise over the years.

He took the bottle and refilled his and Alastor’s empty glass.

«You do not understand what it means to be an Overlord just as much as you do not understand how to enjoy your drink.» Alastor said turning on his stool and leaning with his back on the counter.

«AH! Alcohol gets you drunk. That’s the big meaning behind it.»

Vox was about to chug down his whiskey when he felt something brushing over his side. As he yelped Alastor snickered, trying to camouflage it with a cough.

«AÆl- he glitched - what are you doing?»

«As you can see I am not doing anything.» he said raising his hands to prove his point. Vox straightened his back, looking at his surroundings in confusion.

His fogged brain was trying to process whether there was a threat or not. He felt electricity build up in his body.

As he raised his glass, he felt it again, something brushing his side, just lightly, but, when he turned, his eyes could only scan thin air.

«What is going on?» he mumbled putting the drink down.

Alastor didn’t answer, but he was having fun. Vox could see it by that stupid tail of his that was slightly wagging.

If it was his doing… oh no.

The tendrils came out of nowhere and wrapped around his torso, caressing his stomach and sides slowly.

Vox felt electricity between his fingers and in his antennas. He clamped his mouth shut with his hands, slightly kicking his feet.

«Is everything alright Vox?» Vox shook his head, little sparkles all around him. That fucker…

One of those tentacles circled around the center of his tummy, caressing the blue skin. He could feel the tip lightly scratching the sensitive area, making his body tremble.

It was so agonisingly slow. The gesture felt both sweet and mean, as if it were Alastor’s fingers toying with him.

Then he increased the pace.

Vox’s face started trembling, the image of his expression danced on the screen for a moment, deforming his flat features. Alastor came closer to his prey, enjoying every second.

«Maybe it would be better if you just let yourself…-» the tentacles that were around his stomach changed direction and dug in his hips «…Laugh.»

Vox giggles sparkled, as static electricity vibrated around him. He tried so hard to contain himself, but once the first chuckle was out he could not stop.

«AHAHAHAHL nohohoho.»

«No? But I’m not doing anything my dear! I think you had one too many of these.» he said sliding away the man’s drink, saving it from being destroyed.

«Yohohou knohow dæ-ámňņ well what you’re dohohoing.» Vox managed to say while trying to push his tentacles away.

«Of course I do.» he got closer, more tentacles coming from all around him. Vox felt his heart pounding in his chest, his face a mixture of fear and excitement. A stupid wobbly smile was plastered on his screen.

«And you’re enjoying every single second.» had Vox been a little less drunk he would have probably tried to retort, but all he could do was stare at Alastor’s tendrils.

Two of them wrapped around his wrists, raising his hands.

«Oh noho don’t y҉̗͚͚̯̋̏̍̑O̸͎͕̒̽͐̏U҉͓̦̰̘̌́̏̾͆ DARE ALASTOR!» the tentacles danced in front of him, circling around his underarms. Two of them were near his sides, and no matter how hard he tried to pull at his restraints he couldn’t free himself.

«Oh how I like seeing you like this.» Alastor sighed «So helpless.»

«Ahahahahahl Ihihi ha-hatehehe yohohor stupid gahames.» he protested. He was still sat on his absurdly high stool, his feet trying to touch the floor to push himself back. But there was nowhere to run.

Every demon in the place had already fled, believing that the Radio Demon had found his new victim. Well they weren’t completely wrong.

«Do not lie to me.» Alastor caressed Vox’s screen with a single finger, and fake sweat flashed on his face. «You love my games. And besides, a powerful Overlord like you should laugh at the face of danger.» that actually made Vox titter.

Anything said by Alastor made him laugh.

«Let me see your smile.»

All of the tentacles attacked at the same time, some caressing his skin, some scratching at the fabric of his clothes. They were under his arms, on his stomach, meaningly attacking his hips.

The laugh that left his throat gave Alastor goosebumps. It was loud, the loudest he had ever heard from him and it was so… carefree.

All the sense of control, the pressure of becoming a powerful Overlord, the high standards the man held on himself all crumbled down. And he was just helplessly laughing in front of his friend, eyes closed, not afraid to be hurt.

Unfortunately for him he was definitely too sensitive though and the moment a tendril flicked his antenna he started to glitch.

«NOHOHOHOHŒĦØ-»

A spark of electricity made the entire place blackout for a moment, before the lights came back on. Alastor looked at the display of power both amazed and awed.

The man was really strong.

«Be careful my friend-» Alastor’s voice came from much closer than before «We wouldn’t want you to short circuit would we?»

He decided to give him a little break.

The moment the tendrils freed him, Vox turned his back and held the counter with both of his hands, looking for stability.

He could not stop the giggles and titters leaving his body, feeling even drunken than before even though the alcohol was starting to wear off.

However, before Vox could stop laughing, a single tentacle snuck under the his shirt, through his sleeve, slowly and gently caressing his underarm with its tip. The small movement was driving Vox mad.

He collapsed on the counter, laughter now pouring out of him. His feet were kicking the air. The free arm was pounding on the surface, not lucid enough to try to free himself.

He let his head rest on the table, the screen tilted toward Alastor.

«Yohohouh bihihihitch.» he giggled before trying to pry away a new tendril that was slipping under his shirt, targeting his stomach.

His feet kicked harder and quicker as he started to hiccup. «Ihi- IHĮĦĮ- chahaæn’ț.» his voice changed and distorted.

Alastor drank another glass, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavour.

«Sooo» he stood up next to the giggling mess. «Do we wanna make a deal?» he asked making his tentacles stop their torture and back away.

Vox took a few seconds to compose himself before lifting his head and facing the other demon.

Giggles were still stuck in his throat, threatening to leave his body at every word. «A deahal?» he straightened his back and fixed his shirt, now turning his entire body towards the friend.

«I’m not selling my soul for some T̵̲̫̈́̉͗̂͆-tickles. You can’t be that stupid.»

«I am not, my friend. And for once I do not care for your soul! Oh no no no! I would like…-» he let the anticipation roll on Vox’s nerves as he approached him with twitching fingers. «-for you to never drink whiskey in such an inconsiderate way. You either taste your liquor or you don’t drink at all. You do not gobble your alcohol. You understand that young man don’t you?» and as he pronounced the last sentence, he started tracing invisible circles on Vox’s sides.

Vox closed his eyes and the giggle that escaped his lips was a mixture of ticklish agony and amusement.

«Are you finding my request funny?» his fingers danced on his sides.

«Oh c’mohohn Ahahal.» he kicked his feet again, very careful not to hit the demon in front of him. «Ihiht is fuhuhucking hilariohohohus.» he managed to say.

Alastor was not amused.

«Well if you think this is hilarious I cannot imagine what you’d think of t̷̥̲͎͇̤̒̈́̔h̵̳̪̰͋̊ȉ̵̭̦̰̊̉̒s̶͈͉͙͕̥̅̚.» as his voice distorted he drilled his thumbs in Vox’s hips, scratching slightly under his clothes.

Vox’s face became black for a few seconds, before returning to his loud self, pounding with his free hands on Alastor’s chest.

«Such a sweet sound.»

«Ḍ̷̙̙̪̏́̏̒͊e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿ĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿ĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿l̸̳͓͔͇̗̋͌̈ ḍ̶̣͎͍͇̐̂̉̿̎e̷͎̘͌̈a҈̫͎͆̏̇l̵͉͚͓̃̄ ḍ̶̣͎͍͇̐̂̉̿̎e̷͎̘͌̈e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҈̫͎͆̏̇l̵͉͚͓̃̄.» his glitched and distorted voice came so soft to Alasto’s ear.

Alastor stopped with a chuckle.

«You enjoyed it.» he said before stepping away.

«Oh well don’t think I didn’t notice your tail wagging.» the tv demon whispered with a smile on his face.

Alastor turned himself, hiding his back and his stupid soft tail, a small blush colouring his cheeks.

Vox laughed again, a genuine laugh, and then grabbed his own glass. The older man way eyeing him, fingers ready to summon his power once more.

Vox drank slowly, feeling the warmth of the alcohol. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste.

Alastor smiled at him, the genuine smile reserved to these late night, where the alcohol in their veins made their heads lighter and their words easier to leave their lips.

The words Alastor pronounced forty-five years ago echoed in the empty room. They sounded sincere, no filter altering them, just honesty and liquor on his tongue.

«You’re like a sparkle in the night Vox. You make this dark world brighter with your smile. Remember that»

Vox closed his eyes and let out a sight. He hugged himself for a moment and let those words sink in, burning his soul.

He allowed himself to feel this way for a few seconds, before turning everything off and straightening his jacket.

He had to go now.

He needed to find out what that pompous old prick was planning.

~~~

I feel like I’ve been working on this fics for a month, but it’s actually been a couple of weeks.

I loved exploring Vox and Alastor’s dynamic and showing Alastor being kind of a mentor for Vox.

Initially Valentino had a part in this fic, but in the end his role got cut off, but who knows! I might explore their relationship and how it affected Vox and Alastor in future fics! In this universe (yeah, the one I created pretty much for this single tickle fic) Al and Vox originally had a strong relationship, something between platonic and romantic, that got ruined when Vox met Valentino and started hanging out with him (Even though I strongly believe that in the serie Vox was the one that fell in love and Alastor was just trying to get something out of him and eventually got tired of Vox and left him)

The first scene felt really like when Hamilton and Burr go drink together at the beginning of the musical ahahahaha.

I don’t know when will I publish the new fic, it will take me a long time before I am able to write so much again.

Let me know what you think guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

#tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #lee!vox #ticklish!vox #ler!alastor #i hope it’s well written I’m stressing so much #i started writing with no idea for a plot #but i can totally see Alastor getting mad for not drinking in tge ‘right way’#and Vox being an impatient little shit about it #idk I love them so much #and really I need to get lee!vox out of my system

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a-killer-obsession · 3 months

Note

I know it's no smut but i would really enjoy some Hcs about them as Daddies. 🥰

A rare SFW request, how can I say no?

Now presenting:

☠️ Kid Pirates ☠️

As Dads Headcannons 🧑‍🍼

Okay jk this came out a little NSFW with kink mentions, so

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

Kid

Oh god the breeding thing was just a kink HE DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO REALLY HAPPEN

Would be absolutely freaking the fuck out when you tell him you're pregnant but he'd come around after a little and then be thrilled

At the base level, a pretty good dad. He's gonna always do whatever he can to help, even if he has no idea what he's doing. He's trying his best to learn though!

Kids love him for some reason? Maybe its in the name, or maybe its the cool metal arm

Absolutely swears around the kid, don't be surprised if their first word is fuck

Doesn't understand no matter how many times you or Killer tell him that a gun is not an appropriate birthday present for a three year old

His kids would be just as wild and fearless as him, aka a fucking nightmare for everyone else

He's 100% the fav parent cos he never says no

Good luck getting him to change a nappy, he'll present you with that stinky baby like its radioactive

He's not gonna say it, but he wants to suck them milky tiddies 👀

Killer

Shell-shocked when you tell him you're pregnant but very quickly excited

Will tell anyone who'll listen how excited he is, and will immediately start calling you mama

There to attend to your every need and whim during the pregnancy

So fucking scared to hold the baby when they're born because these hands have killed so many, how can they hold something so small and innocent?

That kid is getting spoiled rotten, but he's also reasonable when it comes to saying no to them, and so very patient when they have tantrums

Owns every baby and parenting book the Grandline can offer

Really great at seeing when you need some alone time, he'll whisk the kid away for "dad time" at the slightest hint of exhaustion on your face

You better believe that kid is getting his wild blond mane, and he's so very careful and diligent taking care of it. He'll braid flowers into it, and when they're old enough to learn to braid he'll let them do the same, so sometimes they'll just both appear covered in matching braids and beads and flowers

That kid is his pride and joy, he'll teach them to read and write himself, teach them too cook (they love baking together!) And you better believe you're getting breakfast in bed on mother's day with a carefully arranged platter and card definitely made 100% by your kid and okay maybe daddy helped a littleeeee bit 🤏

Insists on changing every nappy, because you're already working so hard

Absolute helicopter parent, to the point you have to tell him to cool off sometimes

Heat

Takes a good three to five business days to wrap his head around it when you tell him you're pregnant. Hes not upset just... surprised

He loves your swollen belly though. Would absolutely want to try your breastmilk and would absolutely be a fucking pervert about it

No fucking clue what he's doing but takes to it so naturally. Never has to be told when something isn't age appropriate, instinctually knows what baby needs

Hates saying no to them but knows its for the best, even if those puppy dog eyes almost kill him. He WILL cry about it later though

Easy and wordless distribution of tasks with him when it comes to childcare. You don't have to ask him to do his part, he's already doing it

His kids would be kinda quiet and reserved, but oh so sweet

It melts his heart when his baby touches his scarred face. Absolutely cries the first time he holds them

Spoils the kid but in a very tender way. He's always making them little hand whittled animals and flower crowns and finding things they can do together, like colouring. You better believe the shared fridge is covered in his kid's art and if you try to remove it he will set fire to everything you own

Loves to give piggy back rides and let his kid climb all over him. Their giggles are his favourite sound

Not a helicopter parent but definitely attentive

Gags when he changes nappies but he'll do it anyway

Wire

Yeah, that's not his baby, he got his tubes tied at like 19 years old

Oh but you really want to adopt this little orphan? Sounds like a you problem

Seriously hates kids, it ain't happening

#ask kil headcannon #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #kid pirates #heat x reader #heat one piece #eustass kid x reader #kid x reader #kid one piece #eustass kid #wire x reader #wire one piece

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myfavoritesstuff · 6 months

Note

So there was this dialogue about Z's choice of dress, pointing towards the "weird body modifications to his teeth" and y/n said she wonders, "if they hurt?" I knooow she might've meant it must have been painful for him to get his teeth like that but, what if we took it the other way? What if she unconsciously voiced this thought in another situation? Would they really hurt? A neck bite? Smut please.

Embrace of Shadows

Pairing: Z (from Favor) x Reader

Prompt: How did it lead to this? Being curious leads to something more.

Note: This is a smut! I hope I understood this request correctly. Sorry if I didn’t, but either way, I had a lot of fun writing this. Please read all the way through, it gets better, I promise! NOT PROOFREAD

I wonder if they hurt…

"Curious, aren't you?" Z's voice was a whisper, “why do you stare at my teeth?"

You blushed, realizing you had been caught. "I apologize," you stammered. "It's just...they're so different. I've never seen teeth like yours."

Z tilted their head, studying you with eyes that seemed to pierce their very soul. "Sharp teeth are a necessity for survival," they said. "For feeding. For protection."

Your heartbeat quickened. "Would it hurt?" they blurted out. "If you were to bite me?"

Z's lips curved into a half-smile. "Ah, the curiosity of mortals," they murmured. "You wonder about pain, about pleasure. About surrender."

Your mind raced. They hadn't meant to reveal such thoughts, but now the question hung in the air like a forbidden fruit. "Would it?" You pressed, their heart now pounding in their chest.

Z got up from the opposite side of the table and stepped closer, their breath cool against your skin. "Pain and pleasure," they whispered. "Two sides of the same coin. To be bitten by a demon is to dance on the precipice of both."

Your heart still pounded. You should run, flee from this dangerous allure. But something held you in place—the pull of forbidden desire, the thrill of surrendering to the unknown.

And then Z's lips brushed against your neck, and all rational thought fled. Their teeth sank into your flesh—not cruelly, but with a hunger that ignited every nerve. Pain flared, then melted into something else—an ache that bordered on ecstasy.

You gasped, your fingers tangling in Z's hair.

You could feel Z start to bite a little harder, starting to drink from them, drawing sustenance from their life force, and you surrendered willingly, lost in a dance of pleasure and pain.

When Z finally pulled away, You swayed a bit, dizzy and sated. Their neck bore twin punctures, a mark of Z's possession.

“Z…” You let out a soft whisper.

“Y/n…” his voice was deep. Your breath caught in your throat as Z pressed their body closer to yours. Z’s touch ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume everything.

“Y/n” they whispered, “keep your eyes on me, okay? I only need you to see and think only of me.”

A devilish smirk made its way onto their face. “You think you can do that, darling?”

Swallowing, you nodded. Their smirk turned into a small smile. “Good because after tonight, I won’t ever let you go or see anyone else with those precious eyes of yours.”

Z’s words made you feel warm inside. You never had someone talk to you this way before. Your thoughts were interrupted by Z speaking once more.

“I’m going to be taking what’s mine now. I hope you’re up for a few rounds.”

Your face flushed at their words, yet you did not stop them when they grabbed you by the arm and turned you around so you were facing the table. Their claw-like nails then proceeded to rip your clothing apart, leaving you exposed for them to see.

While the air was cold, your body felt hot. Just imagining the things Z could do to you made you feel excited. Z then began to strip themself of their own clothing. Once fully striped you could feel them start to trace their fingers along your body. You shivered as Z’s fingers started to travel lower.

“I want to taste you so badly”. As they said that, they kneeled down with one hand pushing you down so your ass was spread for them.

Their fingers made their way down to your hole, and started circling it. You gasped as they then stuck their forked tongue into your hole, stimulating the area inside. You grasped onto the table, as your legs started to shake from the pleasure you felt. Their tongue worked wonders as all you could do was grip onto the table.

Z seemed to notice this, for they suddenly pulled themselves away from your hole, stood up and turned you around. They then started to passionately kiss you and their hands made their way under your legs, signaling you to wrap yourself around his waist.

Your mind was in a haze. All you could focus on was him. Suddenly you felt something around your hole once more. As you felt them slip in, your immediately clenched around them. Groaning in response to you, they gripped hard on your legs, making you gasp.

They took this opportunity to slip their tongue into your mouth, making its way around your own tongue and to the back of your throat.

You slightly gagged on it but didn’t mind as you were overcome with an immense amount of pleasure.

Their thrusts hadn’t helped either as their hips angled themselves to hit a certain spot inside. Feeling the way their cock spread you open had you moaning their name. It was almost as if they were shaping your inside to the shape of them.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt an intense sensation wash over you. Moaning out their name again, you felt yourself come down from your high. Z however did stop, in fact; they kept going and increased their pace, trying to reach what you felt moments ago.

Whining from overstimulation you placed your head on their chest, letting them continue with their pace until they eventually reached their end. And it wasn’t long after until Z did. However once they were finished, you could feel a trail of their cum going down your leg.

You heard them make a sound of displeasure as they started thrusting back into you pumping the cum back into your hole. You gasped as you groaned from the pleasure that started to build up again, and you gently grabbed onto his shoulder.

“I hope you weren’t thinking that I was done with you, cause I told you that we were going for a few rounds.”

#favor vn #visual novel #vn #z favor #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #favor fanfic #favor fanfiction #fanfic smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #favor smut

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picaroroboto · 8 months

Text

For the past couple days, I've been unfortunately cursed with thinking about Zenos yae Galvus. I don't even particularly like him - not that I dislike him either, Zenosfuckers you can put your scythes down - but it seems to me like a lot of the fandom either greatly misunderstands him, or doesn't even care to try to understand him, which from an objective standpoint as someone who cares deeply about writing in video games kind of pisses me off. But I'm more pissed about the fact that I'm apparently going to keep thinking about this issue until I actually write a character analysis of him.

Q: "But, what even is there to analyze with him? Isn't he all about wanting to fight the WoL and nothing else?"

Well, you wouldn't be wrong with saying that. That motivation is at the forefront of his character, and even if you look closer, everything about him comes back to either "violence" or "lack of understanding of others". But there are more meaningful sides to his deceptively simple character. That question of meaning is what I really want to look into - what does his character mean, what symbolic or thematic role does he play in this story?

Q: "Better question: why are you posting this on your art blog/Fate meta sideblog?"

Good question, with a stupid answer: I have all of 6 followers on my FF14 sideblog, and around 150 here. Let's go under the cut so they don't have to read a wall of text, unless they want to.

When you look at and compare FF14's villains, you can see a very clear change, no doubts thanks to the change in main writers. ARR Gaius and Thordan are more or less two-bit villains - Gaius's memeable iconic Praetorium speech gives us insight into how fascists try to justify themselves but little into Gaius's actual personality, while all Thordan gets as far as depth of character is an NPC in a sidequest remarking that he wasn't always a bad person and was probably doing what he thought best for his nation. Nidhogg is a little more understandable, since revenge is a relatable motivation to anyone who's been hurt by others. In Stormblood, Zenos and Yotsuyu are both presented as deserving of pity even as they do terrible things. Come Shadowbringers and Endwalker though, the story takes a greater interest on why villains like Emet-Selch and Elidibus do the things they do, and the player is allowed more options to try to understand them and see how similar they are to the WoL. Hell, Hermes and the Endsinger are barely "villains" at all, with the level of sympathy the story shows them.

What I'm getting to here is that Zenos, with half his arc in Stormblood and the rest in Endwalker, is sort of caught in the middle of this shift. He played the role of the rival character in Stormblood really well, but come Endwalker, he's standing on a stage full of heroes and villains with grand causes and deep motivations, as the guy whose sole motivation is fighting for pleasure.

It seems he's not unaware of this contrast himself - when Jullus confronts him for ruining Garlemald for no good reason, he retorts with "Would you be happier had I a good reason?" Zenos makes no attempt to justify his own actions and doesn't care that his reason seems incomprehensible and unforgivable to others. Yet in that same cutscene Alisaie hits him with the fact that if he keeps living solely for pleasure, he'll die alone. When next we see Zenos, he's alone at the Royal Menagerie waxing philosophical about what he really sought in the battle with the WoL.

See, what really motivates Zenos isn't just the thrill of battle - this guy has gotten Battle High and the joy of human connection confused. Really.

Even before he gets so perturbed by the idea of dying alone, there's other suggestions, like his proposal of friendship to the WoL when they fought in Stormblood, and then later his dying words in which he explains that he never understood others - at his core, he's just lonely. I know there's an official side story that tells it, but you don't need to know the exact details to glean that he had some sort of tragic backstory. Sad, but not a surprise, considering he's the prince of the Garlean Empire, raised to take the throne and continue the Empire's legacy of violence.

At his core, he's a very lonely person, but also a thing of violence, raised using violent methods for the purpose of causing more violence. Violence is how he lives and breathes - the only way he gets any sort of connection with others in a world of hurting and being hurt is the brief connection warriors dueling as equals can sometimes find. Don't deny that this sort of connection exists - FF14 is great at making fights that are both fun and tell a story. Hence, why he goes crazy for the WoL, but also refers to them as "friend". In their fights, he senses (or thinks he senses) similarity between him and them. Beneath all the madness is a pure, genuine joy in seeing the self reflected in the other...but he also instantly gets on the train to projection-town, population Zenos, and assumes the WoL is exactly like him, ignoring or failing to notice that they also fight for deeper meanings. The worst part is, he doesn't even notice that what he's actually seeking in fighting them is connection until Alisaie's aforementioned callout.

So he goes and angsts for a while, then turns into a dragon again and flies across the universe to help us kick the Endsinger's tail feathers, then issues his challenge for that duel he'd been longing for. But what's changed is that he starts with a question - "Such pleasures you sought for their own sake, and for no other reason, is that not so?". Dying after the duel, he's full of questions too: "Was your life a gift or a burden? Did you find fulfillment?" Alisaie's suggestion that he'd die alone actually spurred him to realize what he actually sought in the WoL, and now he's asking all these questions in an attempt to, for the first time in his life, genuinely connect with another human being.

The questions aren't important just because they're a sign of how Zenos has changed in Endwalker - they're actually the thematic heart of Endwalker! ARR may have had "Answers" as it's theme, but EW is the expac of questions. Namely the biggest question of all: What is the meaning of life? Different characters have different answers to that, leading to the grand-scale symbolic conflict being the Endsinger's despair - her belief that there is no meaning in life - versus whatever reasons the WoL chooses to live for, left, as always, up to player interpretation.

When you look deeper, Zenos isn't actually as out-of-place in the symbolic conflict as he first seems. His depressed worldview - that metaphor about drowning in a swamp again - seems to align with the Endsinger's view about life being meaningless. But he aids the WoL in defeating her. In that way he serves as part of the answer to her question about the meaning of life. He may have resented life at times, but he still found meaning in chasing pleasure. Not the strongest or most beautiful reason to deny oblivion, perhaps, but it did enable him to help the WoL triumph. I think of Zenos's philosophy as being connected to the concept of "Amor Fati"...largely because this quote explaining it sounds like something he'd say, or at least agree with on some level:

"and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed."

So he does have a meaningful role in Endwalker, as the "Amor Fati" against the Endsinger's "Memento Mori". I think that in this the story shows that his reason for living, while somewhat shallow, is not necessarily a morally wrong thing in and of itself (setting aside for a second all the people he hurt in his pursuit of that). It's just that, since it is a lonely pursuit that denies everything except for his target, it still feels empty. The core of the counterargument against the Endsinger's despair is that both pleasure and fulfillment are necessary to live a meaningful life in a meaningless universe, and that's why Zenos is here in Endwalker. Why he even exists in the story in the first place.

Even if you're one of the people who deeply hates Zenos...well, you probably wouldn't have read this whole thing if you did, but I still think it's important to read into characters you dislike, because every character in a story is written for a reason. Plus, trying to understand even their worst enemies is one of the WoL's key traits as of ShB and EW. With his last breaths, Zenos was trying to understand the WoL too - carrying this understanding of him with you as we move into our next adventures is the least you can do for your "friend".

#ff14 #ffxiv #zenos yae galvus #zenos viator galvus #endwalker #ffxiv meta #endwalker spoilers #meta posting on my art blog #god why did i spend my afternoon on this all this proves is that I need to be put in an English class again purely for enrichment purposes

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tubborucho · 4 months

Text

A LOVE LETTER TO QSMPBLR

I saw my mutuals write those and decided that I also want to say a few words.

My whole life I loved being part of the communities. I’ve been heavily into fandoms since I was 10, and now 12 years later I can firmly state that QSMPblr community is definitely in my personal top 3 of all the fandoms I have been in.

It’s been such a fun and emotional and thrilling journey with so many ups and downs and I would never refuse to repeat it all over again. I met so many wonderful and incredible people because of this server that I can’t thank the universe enough.

All of my mutuals and followers made most of my 2023 so happy, and continue to do so in 2024, and I really need this joy with everything that happens outside the community itself.

(I am sorry this text is all over the place, I am struggling with concentration atm)

And I am so elated and a bit surprised for how many of you I became one of the favorites blogs here. I mean, I jumped from barely 150 followers to around 820 since september, and it’s all thanks to having so much fun liveblogging and theorizing with all of you.

Despite everything, I think Purgatory 1 was my favorite ever time period here. Yes, there was a lot of frustration and negativity but I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a comradery as back then, with my fellow Soulfire mains. I was in the post limit jail every single day, because I just could not stop chatting with all of you and reblogging incredible posts.

I also hold very dearly the moment, where Bad showed Tubbo the Soulfire Base Recreation. But the main reason is not even that this happened, but the fact that so many people on tumblr, in dms and even in Bad’s chat were LOOKING FOR ME, because they knew how much I’ve waited for that to happen. It was just so heartwarming to wake up to dozens of messages and mentions. I struggle with ‘nobody really cares if i am here or not’ syndrome a lot, so it made my day to see that people do.

I also want to say special thanks to some of you (even though each and single one of you deserve a separate paragraph). Under the cut:

@qtubbo and @mikaikaika. I love both of you so much, our 247 crew maybe on a kinda hiatus, but every moment we spent together is so special to me. We had so much fun, and I couldn’t ask for the batter gang to gash about the lore and cool posts together.

@lionheartedmusings. I am pretty sure you do not open tumblr these days, but if or when you see this: I am so glad that I got a chance to be your friend. We held so many incredible discussions together, and I am so proud to see your success and happy to be at least a small part of it.

@ultra-raging-ghost @dappersautismcreature @born-in-hell @comradeboyhalo @bigboobyhalo @mangofanarts @haloberry @halo-chainsaw @kadextra @skullhalo @aesthetic-gem and all the other ghosties here. Man, ghosties and tubblings alliance is honestly the best thing that ever happened to this community, and I loved all of your posts and liveblogging of Bad’s lore even when I didn’t have a clue what’s happening. You are all so smart and so great, ghosties never deserved all the hate them and the streamer got, I will fight for you always.

@terezicaptor you always match my freak. and that’s everything anyone in the fandom can ever ask for.

@itsbebebrainrotting @cheese-water @soulfireblue @galatoma @phatcatphergus @angelpaperclip @an0nfr0mth3d3n @flojouno @dozyrogue @charliecuntcicle @sweetmoons @kqluckity @h3xt0r @wackytheorist thank you for everything, i see you in my notes very often and most of you posted a lot about soulfire (which are always bonus points from me ahaha), and i am very glad you are here💛

@sweetie-peaches @routeriver @snopiah @thepenguisalive7 @piecanl @shumistar @diornies @flowerquib YOUR ART MY GOD YOUR ART OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD OH MYGOD SO GOOD SO INCREDIBLE OH MY GOD

@etoilesbienne and @pommunist i think both of you have the most based takes, and i almost feel smarter when i read your serious posts.

I definitely missed some people I would love to thank, but honestly, as I said, all of you deserve a special thank you. So if you read this, you are awesome and I love you.

I am not leaving the fandom. But it’s always nice to appreciate people around you.

💛💛💛

#liss writes posts

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dokoni-mo · 2 years

Text

Crave: Part Three || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: Your first time with him.

NSFW // smut

word count: 8,088

warnings: age gap relationship (reader is 20 while William is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, allusions to dysfunctional parent-child relationships, talks of divorce and custody battles, smoking, will is a bit delusional, will has scars, corruption kink, usage of pet names, Will is a bit of a creep, obsessive behavior like REALLY obsessive, and possessive, sensual touching, swearing, Michael is briefly in this too, kissing, brief and faint sir kink, breeding kink, aftercare, also yandere vibes for a very little tiny bit, praise, body worship, fingering, virginity loss, premature ejaculation, dom/sub undertones, general smut lol

minors dni // please read warnings!!

a/n: omg omg my first fic back!! I had to polish off the rust (esp with writing smut) but i got so many requests for part three of this I just had to!! anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Ive tagged a few people whom I thought would like to read this, but if you'd like me to not tag you pls let me know! enjoy! (also just a little disclaimer, i do NOT condone this type of relationship irl!! this is just my take on being with Willy)

part one // part two // part four

William could remember the first time he ever laid eyes on you. He remembered it as plain as day and recounted it often.

In fact, it was probably one of the most solidified memories in his mind. Even more so than the birth of his children, or even the day he married his ex-wife. He could recall every single little detail; what clothes you and him wore, what you smelled like that day, how you styled your hair. Every last little bit, he remembered. The first meeting is always important, yes. But this one was much more important to William. In a way in which he doubted anyone but you would understand.

For it was the first time in nearly all his life that William wasn't faking.

From very early on, William knew he wasn't normal. Or, at the very least, what everyone else deemed as normal. Even as a boy, William was hard to excite, or even get some sort of reaction out of. Toys, games, new friends, holidays; none of it was ever appealing to him. He found it all boring. It caused his mother great worry too. William could see the way she looked at him. Even as a boy, he knew what that look meant.

Perhaps that's why he began to lash out in his early years. That's why he was labeled a "problem child".

William had thought that if conventional means of joy and excitement couldn't elicit a response out of him, perhaps other means would. Lying, cheating, getting into trouble. It had some effect, he had to admit. The thrill of it all. He had gotten pretty good at not being caught, too. But, of course he would slip up some times. That's when the trouble arose. William was emotive, at last, sure. But no one liked it. At least, no one liked how it came about. His mother often scolded him. Teachers too. And, if William had a father that gave two shits, he was sure he would've received punishment from the man as well.

It was confusing. Terribly, terribly confusing. Couldn't he finally be happy doing what he loved? That's all his mother wanted, wasn't it? What everyone else wanted, too? For William to find himself, and be emotive?

Then why were they mad at him. Every. Single. Time.

It was frustrating. And, the more frustrated William grew, the more he acted out.

It was a balancing match made in hell. And William grew tired of it all. William accepted that in order for him to have peace, he must comply. Mr. Afton would have to wear a mask of his own face, and be what everyone wanted him to be.

Charming. Handsome. Intelligent. Charismatic. Great husband. Better father. Businessman. Inventor. Successful. Approachable.

William played these charades for nearly 40 years now. Enough to where the lines on his face grew deeper, and the roots of his hair turned grey. He played it through the unpleasant surprise that was his eldest, Michael. Then again at his wedding to that bitch Clara. Again though Elizabeth and Evan's births. Then continued after the divorce. And on through the custody battle. And on and on all the way to now.

Every. Single. Day. For 40 years.

William was tired of it but found no avenue to stop. If he dropped the act now, he couldn't even imagine the headache that would be the fallout of it all.

He had to keep it up. He had to. This was the life he made for himself. He made his bed long ago, and now he had to sleep in it. William was in a prison of his own making. That no one even knew was constructed. He hated that he got Michael out of all of his kids. He hated his business. He hated his neighbors. He hated his friends that weren't Henry. He hated his fancy house, expensive car, and clothes.

This life was his fate, and how unfortunate he was.

Or so he thought.

He didn't want to pay for Michael's college. William would never admit it out loud, but he thought that boy trying to make something of himself other than a minimum-wage employee was a joke. That's why he forced Michael to pay his own way. In reality, he told Michael it was to "make him more of a man", but William knew his son saw right through it. Michael could be smart, sometimes.

Sometimes.

Because Michael was, in fact, a minimum-wage employee at his father's diner, the young man couldn't afford much else than the local community college. Not that that was a bad thing to the young man; Michael didn't care that much. William wouldn't have cared either way, but Michael's compliance made things easier. And, being around other people his age, Michael was out of the house more often. This meant less fights that William would have to deal with weekly. It was a win-win all around.

And, when Michael was home, he would often be accompanied by one or two of his friends. William didn't mind, as long as his house was kept tidy, and no one made too much noise. Any distraction that would take his idiot of a son away from him was welcome.

If William was around when Michael showed up with a friend, William was polite enough to them. A smile and a how are you, perhaps even a question or two. Just small talk, enough to keep up his façade of good dad, better person.

That was until, years into his university, Michael brought you over.

William was in his house that day, doing paperwork at the kitchen table with a cigarette pluming smoke in the ashtray nearby. The Diner was closed whilst the state was doing their bi-annual health inspection. While Mr. Afton preferred to keep himself occupied to his workshop in the basement, he thought that perhaps a change of scenery could do him some good. Smoking in the basement made it stuffy down there, anyway.

He would later be so, so grateful for this decision.

From the opposite end of the house, William heard Michael's keys in the door, twisting the lock to let the young man in. Listening a second longer, William could discern two sets of feet walking along the wooden lining of his foyer, along with two hushed whispers bantering amongst themselves.

Mr. Afton breathed a quiet sigh through his nose.

Great. Michael was home. And dragged some other runt along the way.

William knew that in order to reach Michael's room, his son and his friend would have to go upstairs. And, much to William's dismay, the entrance to the stairs was positioned in such a way that his son and his friend would have to go through the kitchen.

Great.

Hearing the footsteps grow closer and the whispers louder, Mr. Afton leaned back in his chair, tamping out his cigarette in the process. Grey eyes situated on the paperwork in front of him, William put on his well-rehearsed soft, friendly smile, waiting for his son to show himself.

Michael was the first to round the corner, the care-free smile slowly fading off the young man's face as he saw his father sitting in the kitchen. Sensing Michael's presence in the doorway, William looked up from his work and to his son, his fake smile growing to make up for the disgust he felt.

"Dad..." Michael groaned, "What are you doing here? I thought you had work today..."

William chuckled, "Michael, I told you this morning. Inspection, remember?"

Michael rolled his eyes and sighed, looking around the corner of the door and saying a few more hushed words. Whoever his son's friend was, they must be shy. William couldn't blame them too much. Mr. Afton was probably the most popular guy in town these days, with the amount of business the Diner had brought in.

Michael turned his attention back to his father, "I have a friend over. Is that alright? Or are you gonna throw another fit?"

William clenched his jaw, "Of course, of course, it's no trouble at all! Just keep it quiet upstairs, yeah?"

Rolling his eyes again, Michael said a few more words around the corner before making his way to the stairs. William had dropped his gaze for a moment to fill in a few of his signatures. When he sensed that his son's friend had finally shown themselves around the corner, William looked up to give them a friendly smile.

Oh, and there you were.

Adorable, precious, beautiful, darling you.

The world around him seemed to fade away when William laid his pale grey eyes on you for the first time. Instantly, he knew you were the single most breathtaking creature he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. You put his ex-wife to shame ten times over. A hundred times, even. All of his past flings as well. They were nothing compared to you.

You were a timid little thing. William could tell by the pink on your cheeks and your hands clasped in front of you. You had a small, soft little smile; your lips so perfectly round and plump. The way your hair had framed your face made you look as if you were hung in the Louvre itself. Your eyes were kind, looking at the older man with a warmth William didn't know possible. Genuine warmth, too.

The way you looked at him. The way you carried yourself. The way you smelled, even halfway across the room. The way you smiled. The way those clothes hugged you in all the right places. The way your body curved and bent...

William swallowed the saliva building up the back of his throat. Without noticing, his lips had begun to part, but he was quick to fix it with a smile.

You gave Mr. Afton a tiny little wave as you shuffled awkwardly towards the stairs behind his son, your voice barely above a peep.

"Hi, Mr. Afton." You had said, "Sorry to interrupt you..."

Shit. Your little voice saying his name like that. It matched you so well.

William's smile grew as he leaned forward in his chair, setting his paperwork to the side.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, love." He said in his thickly accented voice, "At least you're getting that one out of my hair for a while, yeah?"

William almost never made jokes at the expense of others. At least, not around everyone else. He kept his true feelings in his mind most of the time. He knew most folk wouldn't react too kindly to what he really thought of them. But you...

You didn't seem the type to need such filters. He could see it already. You were the type of person to tell it how it is, and not apologize for it. Just like how he wanted to be.

How interesting.

You let out a little giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. William could feel his jaw clench again. Why were you hiding yourself from him? He wanted to see your smile. Your laugh was so cute, surely your smile is too.

William felt himself still. William wanted to see it. Your smile. That was the first time he had ever wanted someone's smile. And the fact you laughed at his joke about his son...

"Yeah, well, it's not like I wanted to, but someone's gotta do it!" You responded with sarcasm, Michael's groan making you giggle to yourself again.

Without even having to force it, William felt a laugh bubble up from the bottom of his chest. He heard it reverberate off the walls of his shiny, sleek kitchen, and it surprised him greatly. Mr. Afton couldn't remember the last time he didn't have to force a laugh. Let alone a smile. All attempts from others just made him cringe on the inside.

Idiots.

Michael had dragged you up the stairs after your little joke, annoyed by the banter between you and his father. William's eyes were fixated on you as you disappeared from sight, watching as your cute little legs carried you up his staircase.

From your height compared to his kitchen counter, William could deduce that you were much shorter than him. If he had to guess, you'd probably only about come up to his shoulder. From the lingering smell in the air too, he could tell that you took good care of yourself. You were clean. Fresh. Supple. And, from the tiny bit of your personality he saw that afternoon, William already knew he liked you. In fact, it was from that moment on that William would think of you.

He encouraged Michael to bring over more friends in hopes that you'd come back. If you weren't in his house, William found himself wondering where you were. What you were up to. What your routine was. What he assumed to be an infatuation quickly grew. He begun to think of you more frequently. When sitting down for a meal, he would wonder if you would like what he had made. William wondered what such a cute little thing like you was doing in this nowhere town. Did you have dreams away from here? Is this were you wanted to be? He had never seen you in his diner before, he was sure of it. He would've surely remembered such a pretty little thing. Although, his diner was the talk of the town. For both adults like yourself and for children. So where were you?

You became illusive to him. You were full of mystery, and he had to know more. It would never be enough. He wanted more. William began drilling Michael about who you were. This was met by some animosity by the young man, but William didn't fucking care. Eventually, when Michael became obsolete of information, William took to other means. He would eavesdrop around the diner on the security cameras, hoping one of the other college kids in there would utter your name. It was slim pickings, but the thrill of it is what got to William.

Every single little thing he learned about you was priceless to him. He committed it all to memory, as if you would vanish if he had not. You were a plague to him. It was your name he thought of first thing in the morning, and it was the last thing he moaned quietly into the night. His fantasies grew dirtier by the day. He had imagined you in oh so many different scenarios. Different positions. Places. Outfits.

Everything about you was perfect to William. From the very top of your head to the very bottom of your feet. You were his soulmate. He just knew it. Every single little thing about you had been crafted just for him. Everything you did, said, perfection. He could be so, so good for you, just as you'd be so good for him. He made more than enough money to spoil you rotten. His house was big enough for you to move in. Not that you'd need the extra space. Of course you'd be sharing a bed with him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Couldn't you see it? How you and him were meant to be? Couldn't you picture your budding life together with him? This is what all those years of suffering were for. To lead him to you. You were his everything. His sun, moon and stars. The oxygen he breathed. The food he ate. The ground he walked on. All of it.

You.

His precious, precious little bunny.

William already knew he loved you. He did, he really did. He didn't have to fake that part about him. Loving you came as naturally to him as breathing. And with you pinned underneath him, Mr. Afton felt as if he was on cloud 9.

Sure, this isn't exactly how he'd plan things to go. He didn't want to have his first time with you on his couch. You were better than that. You deserved all the nice things he had to offer. But William wasn't too sure he could contain himself long enough to carry you to his bedroom. He had already waited so long to have you. Surely you wouldn't mind, right?

You didn't seem to, at the very least. As the man continued to grope and squeeze at your chest, his other hand ripping his tie off, he studied your face carefully. His pale eyes never left your pretty little face, not even for a moment. Your cute little hands were gripping the fabric of his couch, and soft little moans escaped past your puffy lips every so often. Your eyes were focused on his arm rather than his face.

He found this to be a shame. He understood that you were probably embarrassed, perhaps even overwhelmed. This was your first time with him, after all. Oh, but it just wouldn't do, little bunny. He wanted your eyes on him.

Where they should be.

After finally getting his black tie off, William used his free hand to slip underneath your chin, using his pointer finger and thumb to tilt it up towards him. Your glossy doe eyes met his, and he could feel an uncontrollable grin creep across his handsome features.

Just look at you. Not even five minutes in, and already so eager to please him. William could see how much you were enjoying yourself already, the pleasure of it all making the ache in his pants all the more tighter.

Patience, William, patience. The night is still young.

You are something to be savored. Not just a quick fix.

"(Y/N), my darling," Mr. Afton said to you, feeling the heat radiating off your cheeks, "keep your eyes on me. I want to see you, love."

William leaned down to kiss you again, feeling how your hands gently found a spot on his chest before he could do so.

"W-wait..." you peeped out, making William still his movements. He pulled away from you for a moment, his smile falling as he looked into your worried eyes.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked, "Please, tell me. Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head, "N-No! It's just-"

William removed his hands from you, clasping your little fingers around his own, "Please, my bunny. Whatever it is, I'll fix it immediately. Please tell me."

Mr. Afton watched you like a hawk a you looked over your shoulder towards his door, the heat on your cheeks creeping down your pretty little neck at his words.

"It's just..." you whispered to him, "What if Michael walks in on us? He should be back any minute, right?"

Oh, that. The lie he told you. He had forgotten all about that, actually. William was glad you reminded him.

Mr. Afton pressed a small kiss to your fingers to ease your worries.

"Don't worry about him, my love." He said, admiring your features as if they were fine art, "It's all taken care of, I promise. Keep your focus on me, darling. On us. You can do that for me, hm?"

After studying his face for a moment, William watched as you nodded in response, making his smile widen as he kissed your fingers once again.

"Can we maybe just move, erm... this, somewhere else then?" You asked, "Please?"

Oh. So you did mind. William mentally kicked himself. Stupid fool. Of course you would mind. How could he have overlooked that? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

William leaned in and kissed your sweet lips one more time.

"Of course, bunny." He whispered to you, finally letting go of your hands. William got off from on top of you and planted his feet on the ground. Once he was secure, he leaned down to you again and slipped you into his strong arms, holding you bridal-style close to his toned chest. He felt his heart swell inside of him as you wrapped your tiny arms around his neck, nuzzling your cute face into his neck. Gently, the older man carried you through his house and into his dark bedroom, using one of his legs to push the door open.

Once inside, William gently laid you down on top of his bed, giving you a kiss before leaving breifly to shut his door. After he was sure that it was shut tightly, William turned his attention back to you.

Heat creeped down his face and neck when he saw his precious bunny on top of his bed. Oh, little one. If only you knew how many times he had pictured you there. How many times your name was repeated over and over like a mantra within these very walls. Even with all the fantasies William had played over and over in his mind, none of them compared to the real thing. Just look at you. So so cute.

And just for him.

Walking back over to you, William was sure to drink in the sight of you on his bed, and commit it to memory. His hands on autopilot, William unbuttoned his purple dress-shirt as he neared closer, exposing his chest to you.

You must've felt awkward being the only one with all your clothes still on. He saw how you went to shrug off your jacket, but was quick to stop you as he took his place on top of you once again.

Silly bunny. That was his job.

"Ah, ah, my darling." He whispered to you, gently taking your hands away from yourself, "No need to worry about that. Just let me do all the work, yeah? Just relax, and let me take care of you."

Mr. Afton saw that his words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Your eyes weren't on him. Instead, they were lain gently on the expanse of his chest, going up and down over and over. The dim lighting made it a little hard to see exactly, but William knew what you were doing. Ogling him.

William wasn't sure how much harder he could get. Look at you. Precious little you, drooling over his chest. What a good little bunny. That's exactly where your eyes should be, little one. On him. And only him. He only had eyes for you, so wouldn't you do the same for him? Of course you would, bunny, of course. By the end of the night, you will. Mr. Afton is gonna show you so many levels of burning hot pleasure you didn't even know existed. Why? Because you'll be his. His bunny. No one else's. And if anyone dared try take you away, then well-

"How did you get these?" William heard you peep out to him, snapping him out of his trance.

He felt one of your little hands pull out of his grip, and gently trace lines up and down his chest and stomach, earning a shudder out of him. Elation ran through his veins, knowing this was the first time you had ever touched him. Touched a man like that, too. Slowly, whilst coming down from his high, William could recognize the patterns you were tracing.

Ah, yes. Those. He had forgotten about those, too. His scars. He hadn't even remembered to warn you first. He knew that at first glance, they did look rather gnarly.

But, still. You didn't seem to mind. You were his good bunny, after all. Of course you'd be good for him. Love him no matter what he looked like. Just like how he loved you.

While you continued to feel up his chest, William shrugged off the remains of his dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. He subsequently leaned down close to you, capturing your lips in another kiss. The following ones trailed down the side of your face and to your exposed neck, earning another whimper of pleasure out of you.

"It's nothing to worry about, love." He whispered to you, pressing more kisses to your skin, "Let's just say the early designs of my spring-lock suits weren't without their... flaws."

"Do they hurt?" You asked him, your little fingers finding a place on his shoulders.

William's breath fanned across your heated skin as he chuckled, "You ask far too many questions, bunny."

William gently bit down against the swell of your neck, earning another gasp out of you.

"Just, relax, little one." He said, his hands slowly working your jacket off of you and discarding it to the floor, "Do you want to stop?"

"N-no! I just..." you trailed off, your voice fading to a whisper "I just want you to be okay."

Mr. Afton picked his gaze up from your neck to look into your eyes, committing to memory the pink on your cheeks. Oh, precious, darling little bunny. If only you knew just how much he loved you. If only you knew just how you made him feel; the gravity of your presence around him.

The older man leaned forward to kiss your neck again, his large hand gently slipping underneath your shirt.

"My darling bunny," William whispered, "you're far too kind. So, so good for me. My bunny. Mine."

The brit's movements begun to get more frantic and passionate as his hand crept up to your chest, groping and squeezing from under your shirt. Your moans became more frequent in conjunction, along with the sheer amount of bruises and marks he was sucking into your soft, warm skin. Your hands found their way across his bare shoulders, one eventually travelling up to tussle into his dark brown hair. William rumbled out a groan from the back of his throat as he continued attacking your neck.

Once he was certain that you'd have plenty of hickeys in the morning, William detached himself from you and sat back slightly. His hand ran further up your chest, pulling your shirt along with it. Once your garment was halfway up your torso, William brought his other large, calloused to the base.

"May I remove this for you, my sweet?" He asked through half-lidded eyes, the tent in his pants growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. His mind told him over and over to just cut to the chase and pound you into the mattress already, but he dismissed the thought. He needed patience. William had waited for this day far too long to piss it away. He wanted to savor it. Stretch it out as long as possible. Not only for his selfish reasons, but for your sake too. You were a virgin, after all. He didn't want to scare you away, oh no. Eventually you'll get the hang of it, anyway. Don't worry about that, little one. William promises to show you how all of it is done. Show you just how amazing he can make you feel, and spoil you rotten in the process. Give you the treatment that only his bunny gets to have.

But, for now, slow and steady it is.

You looked him in his eyes as you gave him a timid nod, making another grin stretch across his face.

"Let me hear your words, darling." He said.

"Y-yes, Mr. Afton. Please... take it off." you responded.

Fucking hell you were so goddamned cute. Sweet bunny if only you knew just how many times he imagined your cute little voice saying those exact words to him. How long he dreamt of it.

Another shudder ran through the man's veins as he pulled your shirt off of you, leaving you bare-chested in front of him.

"Please, love," he whispered, "Call me William."

The tips of his fingers ghosted over the expanse of your chest and stomach, earning a shudder of your own under his touch. Leaning down, the older man pressed more open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest and his hands crept down further, stopping at the hem of your pants.

"Though, if you're up for it," he continued, "I'm quite fond of sir as well."

Before you could babble out any sort of response, William gave a few more open-mouthed kisses to the space right above your pants, your hands finding a home in his hair again. Your soft whimpers underneath the brit made his kisses all the more violent, and his hands all the more wandering. They traveled underneath you, coping a few feels at your butt before slowly trailing down your thighs.

It was getting harder by the second for the brit to control himself. He wanted to go slow, he really did, for you. But he wasn't too sure how much longer he could restrain himself from taking you as his. Here you were, right where he had wanted you for so long. Moaning and whimpering underneath him just like he wanted you to. You were already so good for him, even without him having to coach you on what to do. You truly were made for him.

So, perhaps you would forgive him for picking up the pace a little bit.

Could you do that for him, bunny?

"How about we remove these next, yeah?" He asked you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, his fingers picking at the hem of your pants.

You nodded in response again. Embarrassed and bashful.

Oh, naughty naughty bunny. Didn't he tell you to use your voice?

"Words, darling." He reminded you, his tone soft yet laced with firmness. He didn't want to punish you, no. Not yet, at the very least. It was your first time, and William was a generous man. He could let you off the hook this time, bunny.

This time.

"William, please..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Afton had to take a long, deep breath through his nose to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head, a cold, sharp shudder running down his body. Begging him already? Oh, sweet little one, you were made for him. You were you were you were. You were what he was put on this earth for. Not his stupid fucking business, or being a father. No. Not at all. It was for you. He was put on this earth for you. To be your man. To give you every single little thing your precious heart desired. Money. Fame. Love. Pleasure. All of it. All of it for you. And oh did he have plenty to give you. You were his soulmate, he was sure of it. How else could you be here now? How else would he have happened to find you in this small, puny town? Amongst all these fucking idiots? You and him were meant to be, little bunny. Couldn't you see it too? Just look at you. William fits so perfectly on top of you, doesn't he? And you look so adorable underneath him with that blushy face of yours. His sweet little rabbit. His darling beloved. His sweet angel. His treasure. His love. His. His. HIS. HIS. HI-

...

Oh.

Oh shit.

Pressing a few more kisses to your belly, he snuck one of his hands down to feel around his crotch. The tips of his fingers were greeted by a small wet patch.

Damn. He really got carried away that time. First on his phone call with you, and again now? Could you notice? No, surely not. It was too dim in his room. His pants were dark too, so that made it all the more unlikely. You probably wouldn't care either way.

He was still plenty hard for you.

Composure, William, composure. Don't ruin all the fun before it even begins.

Making sure to settle down the many thoughts in his head, William gently lifted your legs and cute little butt off of his bed. Slowly, he was able to discard your pants off of you, giving your shins and thighs a few small kisses as his hands returned to the hem of your underwear.

"This too, love?" He asked.

Out of instinct, you nodded again, "Yes, but... what about you?"

William breathed out a chuckle. Silly bunny. Don't tell him you're becoming the impatient one now. As adorable as it was, William had to still go slow on you. Patience, little one.

"That'll be soon, rabbit." He told you, one of his fingers hooking underneath your underwear, "You are a virgin, yes?"

He already knew the answer to that. He just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yeah, I am... Is that a proble-"

"No, no, little bunny, no." He said in response, gently sliding your underwear down your legs and discarding it on the floor, "I just have to make sure you're prepared. Besides..."

William shifted his weight down so he was face-to-face with your lower half, guiding your thighs to rest on his shoulders. Looking up at you, he pressed his kisses into your soft flesh, throwing in a few bites for good measure as he cupped your heated sex in his palm.

"Your body is so beautiful, my love." He said, "I want to savor every part of you. My needs can come later."

William watched as your whined and squirmed underneath him as his hand made contact with your lower half, his cock aching inside of his pants yet again.

"I will warn you bunny," the brit said, "It may sting a little to start with, yeah? Are you okay with that?"

You swallowed the saliva that had been pooling in the back of your throat, "Y-Yes, that's okay. I trust you."

William let out a satisfied hum, "Good bunny."

Slowly, William trailed his hand downwards, the tip of his middle finger inching close to your hole. Mr. Afton had to swallow the saliva that invaded his mouth at the sight, worried about drooling on you and making a fool of himself. If he could focus, he would be able to tell that his hands were trembling with excitement. Oh if only you knew how long he had dreamed of this day. He was already halfway there. Halfway to making you his. He just had to make sure his precious bunny was ready first.

He didn't want you in any pain when he filled you up with his love.

William gave you a few seconds to get ready before he pushed his finger inside of you, immediately making your back arch and your hands find his shoulders and hair. The grip you had on his grey-brown locks was tight, but compared to the elation he felt while inside of you, it was nothing. A pitiful drop in the bucket of his ecstasy. You were so warm around him. So so warm and tight. A million times better than what his fantasies made him believe. And a trillion times better than those sex toys he bought.

Mr. Afton let his excitement get the better of him just a touch as he begun to pump his long, bony finger in and out of you. His other hand gripped as your thigh, squeezing it as his lips placing gentle kisses on the flesh of it as a form of silent praise.

The noises his finger made going in and out of you were sinful, and echoed off of the walls of his room. Or perhaps, his shared room now. It'd only be a matter of time now before he'd ask you to move in, if all went according to plan. He was pleased to see that you eventually loosened up around his digit and you started to become more comfortable, once all the residual pain had subsided. This is when you started to moan for him. Quiet at first, but gradually got louder and louder as he found the more tender parts of your insides.

William's eyes would often flutter shut as he heard his sweet bunny's sounds underneath him. He was elated that you were enjoying yourself. If William knew he did one thing right in his life, he knew he was pleasing you like you wanted. He could die happy knowing that. That he got one chance with you; got to hear his bunny's sweet songs just once.

But, no, no.

William was a greedy man.

He wanted more.

And he would get more.

"That's it, my beautiful little bunny," he praised you, his deep accented voiced husked with his lust, "Just like that. You're doing so amazing, my darling. So perfect for me..."

William forgot to give you a warning as he inserted another finger into you. But, with the moan that escaped your lips as he did so, he was pleased to see you didn't mind. And, he was even more pleased with the way you found your own rhythm with his fingers, helping him to finger-fuck you all the better.

"Ah- Ahh! Oh my god, Mr. A-Af- William..!" you cried out to him, your grip on his hair becoming tighter as he found the most tender part of your insides.

You were playing with fire, little one. Did you want him to have another accident?

"Oh, my sweet bunny," he groaned, trying to shift his weight to relieve some pressure off of his crotch, "yeah, that's it. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, love. Make them for me."

"W-William, I-I feel-"

"Shh, my darling, it's alright. Let it happen. Make a mess all over me, my love. I want you to. I want it, bunny. Cum all over my fingers, goregous. Don't dare hold back on me. So, so good... my precious bunny. My bunny."

The pace of William's fingers quickened the more he said, until he felt you spasm around you and a flurry of moans escaped your lips.

He did it.

He finally did it.

William has waited for so long, and he had finally done it.

Halfway there.

Halfway to go.

Mr. Afton helped you to ride out your orgasm by pressing his fingers into you a few more times. Once you had settled down, and your moans had turned into soft, breathy pants, William took his fingers out of you, pressing reassuring kisses into the plush of your thighs.

"So good, little one," he whispered to you, "You did so well, my love. Perfect, absolutely perfect."

After a few more kisses, to allow you to catch your breath, William sat up again on his knees, looking down at your sweat-gleamed, adorable little face. You were still breathing pretty hard as his hands found his belt buckle, the clink of the metal making you look up at him again.

"William... please, I need you so bad..." you breathed.

Mr. Afton's breath hitched in his throat, "I know, love, I know. And you'll have me. You've been such a good bunny for me... 'Gonna make you feel so good, my adorable little rabbit."

A rush of relief washed over William as his belt was shed to the floor, along with his sleek black trousers, making him groan. He watched as you little eyes kept flickering between his tented crotch and his face, not sure of where to look to be polite.

Silly bunny. You were allowed to look anywhere you wanted.

As William finally was able to pull off his boxers, he breathed a sigh of relief. His cock had been aching for what felt like hours now, and he was finally able to give it some relief. He could feel how he throbbed against the cold air of his room as he looked down at you once again, drinking in the sight and committing it to memory.

William knew he was a well-endowed man. Hell, that's probably why he was so popular to begin with, at least amongst the women. None of that ever mattered to him before. He didn't care. Yeah, he had a big dick. So what?

It never mattered to him, that is, until now. He could see how scared you were when you looked at him. See it in your eyes, how you worried how something like that would fit into you.

You needn't worry, sweet bunny. William would never try to hurt you. Not ever. It'll fit, sweet one, don't worry.

Don't you trust him?

Mr. Afton gave a few pumps to his length, coating it in the slick of his pre-cum as he lined up at your entrance. He could feel waves of excitement and need wash through him as the tip made contact with your flesh, making him let out another shaky breath. Though in the past the brit found missionary to be rather boring, he found himself to not mind it with you. It allowed him to be close to you. To see your face, and hear you well. All he ever wanted.

Besides, he could always try new positions next time. If you were ready.

"It might sting a little again, bunny." He warned you, "But it won't for long."

"O-Okay..." you said, "Just... Can you hold my hand? Please?"

William felt his lips part, "Yes, my love. Yes, of course."

Shifting his weight briefly onto one arm, William slipped one of his large hands into your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. His other hand was firmly situated next to your head, careful to avoid pulling on your hair.

"Good?" he asked.

You nodded, "Yes.. I'm ready now. Please, William..."

"As you wish, darling."

Excitement bubbling in his veins, William gently pushed his hips forwards, the tip of his cock entering inside of you. Along with your gasp, the man above you let out a low, breathy groan of pure, raw pleasure, a shudder making its way down his spine.

Holy fuck. It was so much better than he had imagined. You were so much better than he imagined. He was sure of it now, more than ever. You were made for him. You were pure perfection.

And all the more reason to make you his.

Get to work, William. His bunny is waiting for him.

Careful not to squeeze your hand too tightly, William let out another breathy groan as he slowly pushed the rest of his length into you. At the feeling of being fully sheathed inside of your hole, William felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to save-face. You were breathing rather hard underneath him, your other arm having come up to drape across his bare, scarred shoulders for extra support.

As you he felt you slowly start to relax around him, Mr. Afton pressed soft, loving kisses to your jaw and neck, the hand next to your hair stroking it softly.

"Th-That's it, love..." he whispered to you, "So good for me... My adorable bunny."

You whimpered underneath his touch, "William, I... i-it's okay to move now. Please..."

Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, William gently pulled his hips back, then thrusted up into you. He watched as you bounced slightly underneath him, a low moan escaping your lips. With all the conformation he needed, William was quick to find a steady rhythm inside of you. He never found himself to be that vocal in the bedroom from past experiences, so the brit continued to surprise himself with every groan and sigh that escaped past his lips. But, then again, it was quite different now. This was you.

And damn did you make him feel amazing.

After finding a good pace, William was able to angle himself better, trying to find the most sensitive part inside you. With one lucky guess, he was able to see how you threw your head back in pleasure, your nails digging into the skin of his back as you moaned for him.

"Ohh goddd, William..! F-Fuck, right there!" you cried out for him, your encouragement making him pick up the pace.

"Yeah, bunny?" he goaded you, "Does that feel good? You're so fucking cute. You- hahh - you feel so fucking amazing, my love, fuck..."

The brit could feel your peak drawing nearer with every clench of your walls around him, his cock twitching back in response as it continued its barrage of your most sensitive parts. This only made him snap his hips into you all the more sharply.

"(Y/N)..." he cried out to you, "(Y/N), my love. So fucking good for me. So, so good... You're perfect, (Y/N). Perfect, my bunny. Perfect."

"W-William, I-I'm gonna-"

"Me too, bunny, me too. Please, bunny - fuck - please, together, my love. Let me fill you up, my darling. With my love. Let me show you how much I adore you. Will you, my love? Please, please."

"Yes, Will! Oh my god, yes please!"

With your sweet words ringing in his ears, William made one final push inside of you, sinking in as deep as possible. Mr. Afton groaned loudly as he could feel your orgasm around him, his following not long after. He was able to manage a few tiny, sloppy thrusts inside of you as you both rode out your high, feeling as how your insides became coated with his orgasm; no, with his love.

So, so much love.

And, you, finally

were now

his.

At long, long last. He finally had you.

Happy was an understatement. Overjoyed even more so. No, William was a new man. He was now yours. Your man to protect and take care of you. And no one else's. Just as you were his now, and no one else's.

His.

It took a good while for William to catch his breath again, as well as you. Once he did so, William found the strength to pull out of you, one last ripple of pleasure washing over him. You were looking up at him through your glossy eyes and heated face, a small, dumb smile on your face as you breathed heavily. He was able to get one more kiss on your lips before he shifted his weight off of you.

"Wait here, love." He said, "I'll get something to help you clean up."

As much as it pained him to leave you without him, William knew that aftercare was important. Especially to the inexperienced. In the past, he was never fond of doing too much of it, but with you, it came naturally to him. You were such a good bunny for him, it's the least he can do to show his appreciation.

The brit was quick to disappear into his bathroom and grab a towel, feeling the cold air around him in the dark. By the time he returned, he saw that you had already turned on your side, and had wrapped yourself in nearly all the covers on his bed. Creeping closer to you, William saw that your eyes were closed; soft, steady breaths escaping past your little lips.

Damn. You were asleep already. William knew tonight would wear you out, but damn.

Looks like he still has it.

And you were far too cute to wake up now. It would just be mean if he did so. Very well. You win, bunny.

Placing the towel on his nightstand, William peeled back the last little bit of blankets you allotted him and slipped into bed behind you. You being much shorter than him, he found it easy to meld his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your little waist and pulling you close to his chest. You were so warm, and he couldn't help but take a long inhale of your scent. He was hoping to talk to you a little more after, and tell you how amazing you did, but this was fine. He could do all the in the morning. You were too cozy for now.

But that couldn't stop him from giving you some praise.

"You are perfect, my darling." He whispered into your air, as soft as he could as not to wake you, "Just as I knew you would be. You're going to learn just how much better I can make you feel, sweet thing. This is only the beginning."

William pressed a few soft kisses to your hair.

"I'm sorry I had to lie to you to get you here. I just couldn't think of any other way to get us alone. But, you'll forgive me, right?"

You didn't answer, of course.

"Oh, I know you will. If you ever find out, that is, bunny."

There's some things you're better off not knowing, anyway.

"Get plenty of rest, love. I'll be right here, I promise. I promise."

How could he ever leave you now?

"I love you."

Goodnight, little bunny.

tags: @guinea-pig16 , @the-official-memester , @randomwriteralan , @mrsrogerwaters , @laylaaftonshit , @cherry-slushee , @insert-memical-username , @mrssafton , @horrorking2000

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

#william afton x you #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut #dave miller x reader #purple guy x reader

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