#and others are just stripped down basic dashes - like this one

[spockvarietyhour]

Thorton Colby CX410 Butte

[xxsycamore]

KING'S GAME

╰┈➤ ❝ I just need to know in case…❞ ❝ In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips? ❞ - After a round of some silly drinking game, MC can't help but have certain thoughts about Napoleon and how easily he takes on the role of someone in power. Naturally, she wants to know his boundaries of it.

Napoleon Bonaparte/MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Drinking Games; Alcohol; Shenanigans; Humor; Sexual Tension; Massage; Kink Negotiation; Sexual Roleplay; Power Play; Dominant Napoleon; Dom/sub; Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Choking; Dacryphilia; Stripping; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Fingering; Begging; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare • wordcount: 6,055 • masterlist

a/n: The idea for this fic was conceived long before an event of the same theme came to Ikevamp EN... We ended up not seeing them all play together in the game so I hope this right here fixes that, maybe? I have no idea how it ended up being that long. I guess I've been looking for the right opportunity to explore this part of Napoleon's character in a smut fic, namely his feelings about being called emperor and the likes in the bedroom. Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, I know! How about we play the Ousama game? It's a popular drinking game back home, in my era!"

It's rare for MC to be the one initiating activities on game nights, so naturally, all eyes are on her. Dazai is quick to give his enthusiastic approval, wanting to know more about a game that came after his time but originates from his homeplace. Sebastian smiles in a similar fashion.

"Good pick, MC. I think our residents are going to like it. Will you please excuse me for a second?"

As Sebastian stands up from the table and dashes out of the room, someone's comment oh my god, he's totally fetching his diary, can be heard. But really, there are no hard feelings. Everyone's more than happy to welcome Sebastian at the table and see him being more open and relaxed around his masters for once. Maybe it does have to be documented.

"It's not something like Arthur's games, I assume?" Isaac directs his gaze at MC, almost pleading under the surface for an affirmative response.

She rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. As much as she hates to disappoint him…

"Erm, it's basically a game of dares… but don't worry, you can always refuse a dare!"

"That's it, if you want to take the punishment, Newt." Arthur seems ready to dance on the physicist's nerves with a complimenting chin-cupping stance, elbows rested on the table and all. Theo rolls his eyes.

"Let me guess. Refuse a dare and drink a shot."

"That's correct." MC nods before Arthur can take more liberties at orchestrating her own game, even if they happen to be thinking in the same direction. "Let me go get what we need for the game!"

By the time Sebastian is back and patting his breast pocket suspiciously, so is MC, with a handful of… chopsticks. And a fountain pen.

"So, what I'm going to do now is write a number for each one of us… Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Isaac, Mozart, Dazai, Sebastian, Napoleon, and I…so that means numbers 1 to 8, and on the ninth chopstick, I'm going to write Ousama - which means 'King' - and then we shuffle the chopsticks in a cup - Arthur, can you pass me the empty cup next to you? - then we each take one but without showing our numbers to the others. Whoever gets the Ousama chopstick becomes King and he places a dare for someone, using the numbers! Is everything clear?"

"Uh. What kind of dares are allowed?"

Napoleon nods at the direction the question originates from. "Good point. Hey, maybe tone it down with the sexual stuff. There are taken people at the table."

Arthur snaps, "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't intending to. Besides, if a dare doesn't stand right with you, you can always drink and avoid it!"

Memories of other game nights seem to flood multiple minds at once, so MC lets out a half-chuckle half-sigh and moves on. She does take a mental note of the hint of possessiveness in Napoleon's comment just now who instantly got worried about another man being prompted to touch her inappropriately. As if anyone has the balls to touch Napoleon's woman, she thinks to herself… and kind of likes the way it sounds in her head.

It's a shame that Leonardo and Comte aren't joining them tonight and are instead enjoying a more sane way of getting alcohol in their system, in some quiet corner of the mansion. And Comte is totally not smoking a cigarillo right now while talking to his old friend, claiming that he hasn't had one in forever, again. And for that matter, Jean's presence is missed as well, but sadly (although understandably) he dislikes partaking in such activities. He's a lot like Mozart in this regard, with the difference that Mozart becomes another person when he drinks some. And that person loves joining drinking games with his buddies!

"If we're all ready - here we go!"

MC gives the cup a rather unnecessary bartender-style shake, assuring the chopsticks are well shuffled and ready to make it to all the wrong hands.

Once placed on the table, a crowd of hands quickly reach into the cup and sneakily withdraw in order to hide their new secret identity, with the exception of one person who has nothing to hide.

"I'm the king. My, I wasn't prepared for this."

As Sebastian holds up the chopstick of fate high in the air for all to see, a few pairs of surprised eyes catch his own. And something like a shimmer lights up in Sebastian's ones.

For someone as unprepared as him, he surely doesn't waste time on thinking about his next move. Not at all.

"Number 6, exchange a clothing item with number 1. Number 3, take off your pants without using your hands. And number 4 must do a handstand."

"By Jove, Sebas, your fetishes are showing!" Arthur blinks, both surprised and somehow entertained by the turn of events which (in his own head) kicks him off the position of number one most perverted person around the table. Or at least for the time being. He's only smiling now because he's safe, being the lucky number 7 and out of Sebastian's fantasies.

Isaac and Theo can't say the same. They exchange a look - eyes traveling up and down each other's frames - looking for a convenient clothing item to exchange, given their different builds. Theo is done with his choice first, and he reaches over the table to undo Isaac's necktie. The smaller man averts his gaze, turning his head away as much as he can so it's not in Theo's way, or perhaps out of embarrassment, but it's over before it ever began thanks to Theo's rough but effective methods of freeing the cloth from under his collar. Using the chance coming with the shortened distance, Isaac snatches Theo's scarf in return as the most adequate thing to take.

"Aw, you two are boring." Napoleon mocks for change, drumming his fingers on the table with a smirk. Theo muses with the thin black tie in his hands, turning to Napoleon with an empty look and silently wrapping it around his forehead instead, tying it off at the side.

"Is this better?"

"Snrk. I don't know, what do we think, Sebas?"

"I approve of your new look, Master Theodorus. Or should I drop the 'Master'? I'm the King now, after all."

MC gasps, "Sebas! Oh, this game is dangerous…"

"Tell me about it. My first dare and I already have to drink. Woe is me." Dazai weeps, rising up from his seat to point at his hakama, making it impossible for him to complete the take off your pants without hands dare.

"Guess that leaves me." Napoleon sighs, pushing his chair back audibly as he stands up.

"Ooh! Go for it, Naps!"

"Good thing it went to someone who's in good shape. I bet it's a piece of cake for him."

"We'll see now." Napoleon smirks to himself, rubbing his hands together as he prepares to tackle the handstand. His eyes get serious for a second as he calculates it all, and in the next moment, his hands are flat against the floor changing the center of his weight. While he's upside down, the gravity makes his partly untucked shirt expose his abs.

Someone whistles, and MC finds herself staring. As if for the first time.

All too soon, Napoleon is back on his feet again, dusting off his palms and retaking his seat by the table. Sebastian is beaming. "I like this game. Thank you for the idea, MC."

"Thank you, MC." Mozart chimes in, for some reason, oblivious to Sebastian making history tonight as opposed to quietly observing it from the side like usual.

"Haha, you guys are welcome… so, let's do it again, shall we? Let's see who will be King this time around~!"

After the new shuffle of chopsticks, everyone seems a little more lively, a little more hopeful - some driven by revenge and some simply by the contagious evil brewing in the air.

"Who is King?"

Out of the people looking at their newly acquired chopsticks, Napoleon is the one who speaks up.

"I guess that would be me."

"It's Napoleon, huh…"

"Oh, how fitting! You were born for it, Naps."

"Haha, not really."

"My bad. You're an emperor, not a king. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

Napoleon snorts, not playing along - or perhaps his dismissing the extended apology is his way of playing along. MC raises an eyebrow, studying his reaction. Napoleon's attitude towards these things is… rather complicated, as he seems to both loathe his so-called days of glory and simultaneously accept them for what they are, a part of him. She's been confused more than once about what's a good way of navigating through the situation when the topic is brought up in their conversations. On one hand, she hates the change of expression on his face that makes her feel like winter has returned - even if it's never going to feel to her like how it felt to him, the cruel winter - on the other, she knows he hates it when people walk on eggshells around him.

But now they're all at least half-drunk and merely goofing around. No one's bothered to care about these things, and maybe Napoleon prefers they don't anyway.

"Number 5, hold three ice cubes in your mouth until they melt. Number 4, confess about a fetish you have in front of everyone. Number 2, crack an egg over Number 7's head. Number 1, give me a massage."

"N-Napoleon is a sadist!!"

"So cruel…"

And he's laughing too. Sadistic tendencies aside, his laughter sounds every bit as genuine (and loud) as MC always remembers it to be, and it's strangely soothing. Maybe she should refuse a dare just for the shot, just to drown her worries a little more… Taking a look at her chopstick again because she thinks she heard her number, she sees a 1.

Theo goes somewhere, for ice presumably, despite Sebastian's offer to do it in his stead, and Arthur follows. "Wait, I'll go for the eggs."

"Who got the fetish one?" Napoleon browses the faces of the ones left at the table to spot the flushed one. Vincent raises a hand.

"My fetish is, um… I don't really-"

"Come on Vincent-kun, we all have fetishes~"

"I think I could say… maybe… um.."

"Yes? Go on, say it. We won't judge."

"I'd love it if my partner would touch themselves and let me watch."

"That's perfectly normal, Master Vincent. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Woah, it's both very vanilla and somehow kinky at the same time..." MC muses out loud. "Oh, but nothing to be ashamed of, certainly!"

Arthur and Theo return, with the latter immediately taking note of Vincent's beet-red face.

"What did I miss? Broer?"

"The fetish dare… Don't worry, Theo, I just had a shot instead."

"Oh, that's good. I mean, no it's not! Napoleon, how dare you make mjin broer take a punishment!"

"It wasn't really- Anyway, Theo, let's shut you up now."

Theo groans, dragging on every move as if giving the ice a chance to melt as much as possible before the inevitable contact with his mouth. At last, there's nowhere to escape and he pops the cubes in his mouth, thankfully they fit.

"Okay, I've been waiting for this. Who gets an egg in the head?"

"It's me… I hate this game…"

Isaac cards his fingers through his strawberry locks, as if for one last time while they're still egg-free. In the meantime, Theo's expression twists, less out of sympathy and more because the ice begins to torture him from the inside out.

"And the executioner?"

"Master Isaac, I'm truly sorry, it's me." Sebastian raises his gloved hand.

"Ahahaha! Haha!" Mozart laughs at the turn of events seeing a servant disserving his master. Or maybe the reason behind his laughter is nowhere that complex. One thing is certain, for some reason, he always gets out of the bunch's drinking games taking no damage in the form of nasty dares and punishments.

Sebastian stands up reluctantly, then sits down again. "Should I just drink? But I have to remind, I can't hold my liquor very well, I'm afraid."

"Just get it over with. I won't be mad at you or anything."

Sebastian sighs to show a little more reluctance before committing the deed. He looks like he's trying to miss his target, but unfortunately the raw egg still perfectly lands on Isaac's head, quickly descending down his face. Isaac's grossed-out expression mirrors Theo's current agony. As someone hands Isaac a handkerchief to wipe off the sticky mess with, another jokingly calls the sight erotic…

"Alright, I'm ready for my massage. Who shall serve the King?"

Napoleon relaxes back in his seat demonstratively in anticipation. It's a bold invitation, and everyone looks up to see the chosen one.

"My king."

MC stands up, showing her chopstick marked with the number 1. She tries to mute the sound of the others' reactions in her head as suddenly her pulse speeds up.

Napoleon flashes her a grin.

"Very well. The King is expecting you."

He lifts his glass to his lips as he hasn't touched it since the beginning of the game, probably deeming it worthless with the nature of the game. Not that he's expecting to be drinking anytime soon - he's simply not the type to back out from any dare unless it's too ridiculous even for him. Maybe that's why he started to miss the warmth at the back of his throat.

As MC makes her way to where he sits, she witnesses the singular bobbing of his Adam's apple when he gulps down the liquid, and she watches dumbstruck for a second as he motions for her to take a sip if she wants to, from the same glass. Well, yes, she finished her own drink a while ago. She accepts the glass from his hold.

"Now, what kind of massage should I request? Hmm…"

Arthur's dirty remarks fall on deaf ears as MC focuses on not choking on the liquid in her mouth.

Napoleon is a giver.

But there's something damn attractive when he allows himself to take from others.

"The king orders you to rub his shoulders."

And it's damn attractive when he's commanding like that. She sees now what the others were referring to in their provocations earlier - it rolls so, so easily off his tongue when he gives an order like this. Even if it's for a stupid game, the sharp look he gives her feels rather… real.

Not that this is anything new to her. For all Napoleon's gentleness, in the bedroom, he has this side of him that colors him rather dominant. And she'd be lying if she said she's gotten so used to it by now she doesn't feel anything between her legs right this moment. Instead of being a liar, she blames it on the alcohol.

Standing behind Napoleon, MC puts her hands on his broad shoulders… and really, it's been a while since she last gave him a massage. Usually, it's the other way around, as Napoleon added it to his ever-growing list of skills, even if initially it was something he'd never done before, given his status in his past life. Now she has his shoulders all to herself to knead and push at, and she catches herself putting selfishness in the act of service. Because she can't help but have impure thoughts.

Napoleon groans. It's quiet but she catches it over the cacophony of other noises in the room coming from the rowdy bunch. They're already setting things up for the next round, and here she's still stuck on her dare. She doesn't want to go back to her seat. Maybe Napoleon can read her thoughts like he always does and offer her his lap for the rest of the night; maybe he will go further and excuse the two of them for the night-

One hand at work, she reaches the other into the cup because they tell her to, and it appears to be Isaac's turn to be King. Good for him, but bad for everyone else. Seems like it's going to be a long night…

Later in the night and a few more rounds down the line, apples have been eaten without hands, glasses have been downed, a few mounts were the targets of unpleasant substances, either deadly spicy or deadly sweet, some clothes have been removed, some eyes filled with tears - and the collective level of soberness in the room has been drastically lowered.

It's a surprise how they even managed to put an end to it before the sun came out when naturally there's always someone who didn't get a chance to take revenge on someone else. Napoleon and Theo, being the best at holding their liquor as per usual, felt it their duty to help the others to their rooms.

MC didn't have much to drink, otherwise she'd be asleep on the pile of residents by now. Not that she intended to retain some of her soberness, it simply happened - because the bubbling feeling in her chest wasn't caused by alcohol, to begin with.

Napoleon, always the caretaker. Maybe if she throws herself at him he'll carry her to her room as well.

"Goodnight, Theo, go get some sleep." The sound of him returning after separating from Theo interrupts her daydreams.

Once he sees he's all alone with MC, he offers her a smile.

"And we're the last ones again. C'mon Nunuche, let's go to our room."

"Carry me?"

MC tries her best puppy-dog eyes at him, and he tests her for a second like it doesn't work on him. He then gawks at her laziness, hoisting her up his shoulder and giving her ass a little spank. "Let's get you to bed, naughty Nunuche. Some of those guys will be mad at you for weeks, you know? But you better not give them those eyes. Only I get to see them."

"Mm…Napoleon?"

The varnished floorboards creak under Napoleon's steps as he makes his way down the hall, holding MC's weight securely. "Yes?"

"Do you really enjoy it? You know, being treated like a majesty."

It's a short trip, and MC's perspective soon goes back to normal as the floor and the walls swap their places once more before her eyes. Not that she's interested in it, so she throws herself at the bed in the next second, sinking in the welcoming embrace of the comforter, not bothering with removing it at least for the time being.

"Pfft, where did that come from?" Napoleon says while closing the door behind him. The crickets are still singing their songs under their window, it can't be that late in the night.

"From the game. For a second I was worried it left a bad taste in your mouth."

"Hmm." Napoleon fake-muses, kicking off his shoes before sinking one knee on the bed. "I think I liked it when you were the one treating me like a majesty."

"No, don't joke, tell me seriously."

"I am serious though."

Somehow they end up in this position that doesn't help resolve the tension poisoning the air around them one bit; with him caging her with his body on the soft mattress and her having nowhere else to look at but right at his penetrating gaze. Her fingers twitch, nails catching into the fabric of the comforter, seeking a sense of stability.

"I just need to know in case…"

"In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips?"

Like a spark to the kerosene pooling low in her belly, Napoleon's words make beautiful explosions bloom behind her eyelids that have fallen shut amidst the last sentence. She takes a breath but it only feeds the fire as she can't help the way her exhale sounds raspy.

"Would you like that?"

"Would you?"

MC bites on her bottom lip. "This is not about me."

"I thought you wanted to serve your King."

She averts her gaze, because if she looks a little longer at this alluring jade gaze that reeks of sex, she'll be able to feel herself losing her composure, and she's trying to have a serious conversation here.

"I do."

"Hmm." Napoleon plays with her, trailing a hand down her modest home dress, prodding at the buttons at the front. "This is bad, I don't know what to ask for first. I've lost shape."

"Liar. You were perfect at it earlier."

"Someone's been paying attention. Were you also fucking me with your eyes? Right there, at the table?"

MC takes two sharp breaths, and it resembles panting, all too soon. It's out of irritation and not arouse, not yet. When she pictured their little game, she thought she'd just have to bow her head obediently and indulge in her desire to serve. Not enduring Napoleon's verbal teasing as any other night.

"Is it that bad? Will my King punish me now as he sees fit?"

Napoleon looks at her. For all the things that may be at the tip of his tongue, MC imagines most vividly the tone Napoleon would speak them in and how much he's cut for the role. Her soul sings at the thought, but it's nothing holy.

"Get up then. Don't you think it's a little rude to be lying down in my presence?"

That's fair. With renewed vigor, she pushes herself off the bed and waits readily by the side of it.

"Remember to not look me in the eyes. It's forbidden. You'll only look when I allow you to, if I allow you to. You'll have to earn my grace."

Instinctively, MC wants her nod to be accompanied by eye contact, but she corrects her mistake before it can even take place.

"Present yourself. Take it all off."

MC blinks surprisedly at how fast things are happening but isn't against it at all. She has the feeling that he is capable of making her do all sorts of dirty things with a mere flick of his tongue, undressing for him is nothing.

She makes a show of it, despite not having many articles of clothing on her to take off seductively - before long, she's stepping out of her dress that has pooled at her feet, and she retakes her previous position.

"I'm pleased with what I'm seeing. Come closer. Kiss me."

He doesn't have to ask twice. It's something familiar and yearned for since they crossed the threshold of their room—hell, no, since they took a seat at the table for that game. It's welcoming and fulfilling and it's just what she needed-

Or so she thought, until she terribly embarrassed herself with a rather awkward and rigid pressing of lips against lips, and no movement. In her selfishness, and out of habit, she left her mouth open for Napoleon's invasion. But she's forgetting to consider that kings get tired of their conquests too.

She summons her boldness and turns the desire in her veins into fuel for action. She shoves her tongue in Napoleon's mouth, but gently, not with the intention to dominate, but rather to serve. To kiss him until he gets enough. Her tongue swirls against his own, the movement rather clumsy, the making out of a juvenile rather than that of a skillful lover… but it's what he wants. He wants to see her seduce him, use every millimeter of her body for his pleasure, and keep going until he has his fill.

A thin string of saliva connects their lips upon her withdrawal, and her eyes are shut tight. She has to keep them shut, otherwise she'll look right at him. Napoleon chuckles.

"You may open them."

She does, and the sight is not kind on her fragile composure. Locking eyes with Napoleon has never felt like this, like a privilege, and exploring this new feeling is exciting.

"You're not half bad with your mouth. Undress me and put it to use."

Heartbeat thumping in her ears, MC finds it impossible to conduct herself in that moment; to sturdy her hands into performing the task and to break her gaze from his piercing pools of jade. She starts with the shirt, more tugging at the buttons rather than precisely undoing them, before pushing it completely off his shoulders, and finally letting it fall to the floor. He's glorious with just his trousers on and that scrutinizing, almost cold gaze. She opens the fly enough to take his hardness out, and her stomach tightens instinctively.

She wets her lips and parts them, taking in the head of his cock, letting it rest on her tongue. Even when her world narrows down to the hot pulsing flesh in her mouth, she catches herself dividing her focus between pleasuring her lover and.. the position she's doing this in. There's a little bit of getting used to it being required, and it makes her realize how unfamiliar that is - her being on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and Napoleon standing upright. When was the last time they've found themselves in that exact arrangement? It could've happened once or twice before, in the heat of the moment, or when the space had limited them. But never intentionally. Not because MC has anything against it - rather, it would be Napoleon who changes the position whether he's about to receive oral. He makes sure he's at least sitting down at the edge of the bed, where MC can rest her hands on his hips, or on the bed. Where he can see her better, to check up on her. Now she has to look up to see him, and he seems so far away, or maybe her eyes are doing tricks on her, or maybe her vision is blurring because she accidentally took his cock too deep down her throat and now tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Napoleon brings his hand over her head and collects a fistful of her hair, one unfamiliar thing after another - but before intimidation can mix into her blood, she breathes in deeply, because it's not him forcing her down his cock, it's him forcing her off it.

He holds his cock firmly by the base as he directs it at her parted lips again, but doesn't breach the gap between them. He simply rubs his cockhead on the soft cushion of them, gathering the saliva that starts to droll down and smearing it back on her lips.

"A pretty mouth indeed."

MC can only look at him. She looks at him like she's looking straight at an open flame.

"Next," Napoleon begins, cupping her chin and caressing with his thumb where his cock used to be just a second ago. "I want you to go on the bed and show me the position you want to be taken in. Can you do that for your King?"

MC finally averts her gaze; it happens involuntarily, purely as a reaction to another surge of surprise and embarrassment.

"I— Yes, my King."

Napoleon angles her chin up, a signal for her to rise to her feet. Yes, that would be a good start.

The bed is just two steps away from where she is but MC feels like she can trip thrice on the way there with how much her legs have turned to jelly. Still, she makes it. There's not much room for thinking this through, for deciding on what would work out best for both of them - normally it's him who takes these decisions, anyway - so once she leans forward on the bed, she gives way to impulsivity and the way it saves her from having to give it any more thought. If she has to name the reason, it would be that it aligns with everything that Napoleon is tonight. Of course it would be fitting if he were to take her on her hands and knees.

"Does this… please you?"

She hears the rustling of clothes behind her back, probably the sound of Napoleon getting rid of his trousers, before he approaches her. He doesn't say anything about approving the position or not, and MC can't decide if his silence is worse. He comes to stand right behind her, and she crawls a little closer to the edge of the bed to make sure their skin is touching. Napoleon lets one hand roam from the fold of her knee up to the curve of her butt, and MC jumps lightly at the touch. Needless to say, she's sensitive and oh-so neglected. Her insides throb at the mere proximity of Napoleon's slender fingers close to her sex - it's a miracle she doesn't come undone on the spot as he actually directs his touch to the apex of her thighs. Wetness catches on his fingertips and he wastes little time caressing her folds before plunging two fingers inside.

"Nnghhh…" MC tosses her head, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of finally, finally claiming some pleasure but without losing herself completely in it. Napoleon twists his fingers until his open palm is facing upwards, thrusts in and out a few times in a way that doesn't intend to bring pleasure but rather to prepare - and then his fingers audibly and briskly exit her wetness.

MC whines at the loss of his fingers but finds a new fire sparkled to life inside her, and she's more than happy she wouldn't have to wait any longer for the next dose of intoxicating pleasure.

"Good girl. Do you want my cock?" Napoleon asks, openly and greedy. He's not risking having her beat around the bush by posing a more generic question like what she wants next. They both know the answer to that already.

Not that he spares her the torturous reminder of what she'll get by saying the right thing. He rubs his flushed tip on her glistening folds, pressing it in enough to just barely catch on her entrance; to make her bite her tongue and assume he just might show mercy and put it in without her pleading for it.

"I- Yes, please, Napoleon— take me, fuck me! Please…"

She only realizes once it slips out that she used his name and not the object of their little game of pretend that is his title, but there's no going back.

Napoleon doesn't punish her for it. Instead, he rewards her, giving her what she wants most. The groan he lets out as the familiar warmth and tightness enfolds his aching cock is telling of his own desperation.

MC cries out at the intrusion, only now understanding the difference of not having him finger her for longer prior to this. It doesn't hurt - she just feels a little fuller somehow. A little on edge. He gives her time to adjust, however, and she just basks into this dangerous feeling for as long as it's there until he carefully withdraws only to give it another thrust.

"Ahh!" Her insides squeeze around Napoleon again, as he goes in deeper this time. She blames the position, trying to reason out why she feels him in her guts. Napoleon withdraws again, and then pushes in, trying to fit even more of himself inside.

"You're taking me so well. I'm so deep inside you, I bet you can feel me in your deepest parts."

She groans at his words and their truthfulness as his thrusts grow rhythmic, the place where they're connected burning with the delightful friction, and her arms soon give out. She buries her head between her hands, enduring the change of angle as her rear sticks out, and Napoleon keeps pounding at her. His own sounds of pleasure are barely masked by the sounds of skin on skin, but he's not hiding them either. He lets her know how good she's making him feel, telling her something dirty in a low voice that she can barely register over the drumming in her ears.

"You feel so good- merde- Ngh. I want to stay inside you forever."

He's always holding her tightly when he fucks her, his grip being strong enough to leave marks the following day, but there's something about the way he takes hold of her hips now. At first, MC thinks nothing of it, lost in euphoric pleasure. It's only when she feels her knees being lifted off the bed that she understands what's happening.

Napoleon rises up her bottom to meet his hips, in his standing upright position, taking full control of her body in that moment. He's so strong, making it all seem effortless; and it's not a matter of matching his thrusts anymore - she can't do anything. She's facing away, with one pair of limbs immobilized and the other grasping uselessly for purchase at the covers. Her whole body rocks back and forth, feeling like a ragdoll in Napoleon's arms. There's something primal and simultaneously embarrassing about how good it feels to give herself over to him like that; about the trust she puts in him to have her completely at his mercy.

And then Napoleon stills inside her. And he groans. And before she knows it, a warm spray of come hits her walls. Her eyes widen, only now realizing they've already been going at it for a while, for a while enough that he seemingly couldn't hold back and—

And maybe he just didn't feel like waiting for her to come before he does.

The realization makes her dizzy in an unexplainable way, and she moans so loudly she feels herself pathetically falling into that bottomless fit, just like that, just as Napoleon takes his cock out of her. It's petrifying, coming without him inside her, but strangely the pleasure never ceases. His hand finds his way between her quivering thighs and shoves them apart in a quick manner, beginning to rub at her clit; whispering praises against the skin of her nape, enveloping her smaller body with his own from behind as she presses into the bed so violently, chasing after her peak.

"Come for me. Come for me and scream my name."

And that's enough to tip her over the edge. Coming with Napoleon's load inside her intensifies the feeling; the way her insides are still remembering his shape, the way she's so full yet so empty. It makes her see stars.

"Napoleon— Ahhhhh!!"

"I'm here. I'm here, mon amour."

Napoleon holds her trembling form as he draws out the last of her high, gently moving her into a spooning position. He keeps touching her everywhere, her belly, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder, caressing all the spots that went unloved in their game.

"I felt— so good I thought I might die—"

Napoleon huffs out a breathy chuckle, and it tickles the babyhairs at the base of her neck.

"I'd be lying if I said this doesn't stroke my ego, Nunuche.", he whispers, and it's somehow more shiver-inducing than anything he's said that night. "I think you might be right. I might be enjoying myself a bit too much when I'm calling the shots."

MC turns her neck just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She studies him again, with his disheveled hair and boyish smile and his low tolerance of putting up a front now that he gave voice to his most basic instinct and let it rob him of the ability to give anything more thought than he needs to. She leans in for a kiss and he takes the initiative enthusiastically but ends up drawing it out to make the remaining endorphins dance slowly between their bodies.

Letting the tiredness in her limbs settle in just like the fact that the room is several shades a brighter blue than how they entered it, MC only nuzzles back onto Napoleon's chest, trying not to give voice to the heat between her legs beginning to awake again without a sense of the time.

"And I might just love to see you like that. Mon empereur."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @my-day Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐚

n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out.

✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sir Gawain x GN!Reader

✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut + fluff

✦ 𝐰𝐜: 2.2k

✦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Minors DO NOT INTERACT thanks. also DONT USE SALIVA AS LUBE THIS IS THE MIDDLE AGES WAAAAHH

✦ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Anyway I havent written anything in a hot second, especially smut, so i might've lost my touch but this man makes me insane. Hope its still enjoyable anyway and im working on some fluffy stuff as well whoop enjoy :)

Stupid quest. Stupid forest. Stupid rainwater puddle.

You didn't see it – you were too damn busy staring into those gorgeous brown eyes of his, lashes lowered ever so slightly in a way so tender it might as well have been what knocked you over.

“Oh goodness.” Sir Gawain exhales a second after the splash, arms reaching for you a little too late. Turns out he’d been lost staring at you as well. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I–” You start to deny it but think better of it. It’s Gawain, he’d know the answer just from looking at you. “I’m cold. And wet. And tired.”

“I see. Let’s find ourselves a place for the night, yes? The storm from last night might be coming back.” He tells you, reaching out a large hand to pull you up. You take it without hesitation.

Quickly finding yourselves a damp and dingy little cave to pass the night in, Gawain gets to work starting a fire as you shiver uncontrollably. 

“You know–” He begins, fumbling with two rocks and a handful of dryish branches, looking up at you for a moment, “You look good, all soaking wet.”

The warmth of his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on your shaking shoulders, passing by the water dripping off your linen shirt and how your arms curl around yourself to keep the heat in – heat he stokes with that cheeky look, the quickness of his breath, the biting of his lovely, soft, bottom lip…

A spark goes off, catching fire to the branches, cutting the tension like a hot knife over butter. But it does not dissipate, the fire does not cool, it merely wanes to a simmer.

“I bet you’d look even better.” You blurt out, just to get the last word in before sitting by the flames, not entirely aware of what you’ve just said and where his beautiful, hasty mind would take your words. Then again, you’re much more concerned with not freezing to death.

“Trying to warm up with wet clothes isn’t going to do you any good. It isn't going to do anything at all, really.”

“What do you suggest, then?” You sigh, knees tucked to your chest, sitting opposite the dashing young knight.

“You should take off whatever clothes are wet and let them dry by the fire.” He begins shrugging off his thick wooly cape to lay on the stone floor beside him, “And sit close to me – we can share body heat.” he adds on quickly, as if he hasn't made his intentions with you clear enough throughout this journey already.

You’re not sure when it started, when his dark eyes began wandering, when his touches started lingering, or even when you started doing the same. But it’s clear to the two of you; the want– the need too transparent to hide. 

There’s more to it though, for you at least. It would be almost too easy to dive into him otherwise. Like a nymph’s bewitching calls into murky waters.

But it could never be that easy. Not with the one they may one day call King. That and his womanizinging reputation.

Expecting anything other than a purely lustful encounter out of this would be foolish to say the least, but perhaps you are a fool. Because the way he looks at you; the way he has been looking at you since– whenever you started noticing; makes you feel as if there might be a chance. 

So you do as he suggests, stripping down to the basics under his unwavering gaze, shuffling over to his side and nuzzling against him.

Questions swirl endlessly within your mind while leaning on Gawain's warm body, his shirt so thin you could almost perfectly imagine what he'd look like without it in your mind's eye.

But then, those eyes, clear as spring water in their intentions, cage you in with their stare and suddenly you feel as if everything must be laid out plainly, “What are your intentions with me, Sir Gawain?”

The look on his face nearly makes you regret it, fearing you may have offended him, but surely he’s aware of his reputation – surely he must understand.

After a beat he exhales with a slight smile as his large hand comes around to your shoulder, “Are they not clear?”

“Clear as they may be, I like things to be absolutely transparent, especially when it comes to men of your… caliber.” He hums in acknowledgement with a smirk, before it slowly slides off his face, replaced with a thoughtful expression so rarely seen it could be possession.

“I understand what you mean, love. But, in truth, I cannot answer you as of yet.” At the inquisitive look you give him he begins trying to explain himself, “It is that… Well, I am to be King somewhat soon, I assume. So it would be reckless for me to act as carelessly as I once did. But then also, I do not yet know what my intentions are – beyond tonight, that is.” Your face warms slightly at his suggestive tone as his hand drifts down your naked back, “All I know, is that you intrigue me. Greatly. If anything, I know– I feel as if… once will not be enough…”

A dark hand of long, slender fingers lifts your chin to meet his fathomless stare, looking deep into your eyes and beyond that – to your vulnerable soul. 

“I feel… the same.” You speak, suddenly breathless as your face nears his subconsciously, giving in to his siren call.

Lips meeting like a spark to a fire, a beginning. His hands wander over you, reverent, gentle, as yours grasp at the front of his tunic, urging him as close as humanly possible – as if close isn't nearly close enough.

The kiss grows fiercer, a push and pull of soft pink muscles attempting to gain control, before being forced to part, open around heaving breaths while eyes grow hazy with lust– no, yearning. Gawain draws back to shed that bothersome tunic before his hands attach themselves to your hips to pull you onto his lap. The ease with which he does it has you grinding down instantly, hands running over sweat-slick caramel skin.

His dark curls bounce as he tosses his head back under your movements, desperate for some control of the primal urges suddenly overloading his brain – to fuck you without mercy, to ruin you for anyone else – but no, that’s not how he wants this to go.

“God above, you're beautiful.” He breathes, hands stilling your hips to let his eyes sweep over your features slowly. The intensity of his gaze makes you squirm and the strength in his hands warms your inside more than the fire ever could. 

Burying your face in his gorgeous, exposed neck you speak so low not even God could hear, “Shut up and take your pants off.”

You feel him smile against your hair, laying a kiss against it before drawing away to do as you ask, somewhat clumsily, but earnestly all the same. Sitting still on his cloak, you watch him avidly, eyes catching on every new inch of dawn-hued skin revealed.

The singularity of the moment strikes you suddenly; back at the castle, amongst duties and expectations, this would never be possible – this calm, this undemanding rhythm. You have no place to be, no one to meet, so you can just be. Together.

“Where did you go?” He whispers, caressing your face with a softness undeserving of a knight’s strength, making your eyes focus back on his features and immediately surge forward to connect your lips to his, “Nowhere important.”

Gentle as a breeze Gawain lays you back, body between your legs and arms beside your shoulders. His prominent nose brushes yours softly, sensually as he parts your legs even further, “Good. I want you here with me. For this will not be a moment you’ll want to ever forget.”

“Oh,” You chuckle teasingly, back arching almost subconsciously against his warm, wide chest while his hips start moving against yours, “You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Your reaction tells me all I need to be sure.” He replies, so cocksure you’re suddenly reminded of who he’d been before the Green Knight had showed up proposing a ridiculous game – knowing he hasn't changed completely is oddly comforting.

“You talk too much… Sir.” You grumble in lieu of remaining silent and further inflating his ego, getting a raised brow at the tacked-on title.

“But you like it, don't you? Don't lie to me, it's unbecoming.” The corners of his lovely lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. Quick as a flash, your legs lock around his waist, pulling his center down to yours and he’s forced to take a breath from between his teeth as his long lashes flutter, “Like I said; you talk too much.”

Gawain bites his tongue – there will be plenty of time to get back at you once you’re mindless and thoroughly spent – he reasons. For now, he just needs to get you there.

One large hand settles at the base of your throat as his luscious lips travel down your neck in flickers of contact that have you arching against his firm grip for more. Soft as a feather, he pulls away your undergarments as needed to kiss at your chest; sweetly at first and then so wet and sloppy you’re left gasping and whimpering, hands grasping at his strong shoulders for purchase.

Grabbing you below the knees, he gently pries your legs open while kissing down your body until you're tingling and trembling all over wishing he'd just get to it.

“Gawain…”

“Hmm? Are you going to beg? Go on.”

You pout petulantly; no you won't beg, he'd enjoy that far too much. But you can, however, tempt him into doing what you want.

“Gawain…” you moan seemingly helplessly, nails brushing his skin making him shiver in delight, “won't you take me? It's clear you want to.”

“It's clear, is it?” He chuckles breathlessly, ceasing completely to just watch you and it makes you want to smack the back of his head in frustration.

Breathing deep, your eyes move over him carefully, appreciating every inch of delicious, exposed skin so many yearn to catch a glimpse of before…

“Gawain,” you raise an amused brow, surely he noticed… “Yes?”

Oh, he's far too good at playing dumb.

You raise yourself until your lips barely brush his, brown hues watching you closely down the length of his nose before your hand boldly presses down on his stiff cock and those eyes glaze over before rolling back in overwhelming delight, “I'd call this pretty obvious.”

Hand squeezing in pulses, you're granted a low groan followed by a deep sigh, “God, you're too much. I cannot– wait.”

Gawain's mouth devours yours, hungry as a wolf, pushing down once more while his lithe fingers graze the inside of your thighs, grinning at what he finds. Cheeks warming at how your mouth chases his as he pulls back, he gives his palm a full lick before wrapping it around his throbbing cock and stroking. The flames illuminate this length of his gorgeous neck like an old painting and your tongue longs to glide over it and follow the path of his sweat so deeply you almost miss him speaking, “Will you beg now?”

You groan most crudely, far over his games and his perfect face and his disarming voice and his damned haughtiness– your hand grasps the curls at the back of his head, delighting in his whimpered response, “Take me now or so help me–,” your not proud of the way your voice wavers but you’re both past that now.

Gawain’s lips connect with yours surprisingly softly, leaning his forehead against yours and lining himself up with your center, “Shh, I’ve got you, just relax.”

A kiss to your hairline is the only warning you get before he starts pushing into you, slow as can be and yet still you cry out at the feeling in between the kisses he places to your lips to offer some comfort.

“There we go, breathe for me. It’ll feel better soon…”

“Gawain…” You moan, clinging onto him as the bite of initial pain melts into pleasure.

Sucking on your neck, his hips sway against yours rhythmically, wavering only when your nails dig into his sides while moaning desperately in his ear, “Gawain please…”

“Now–” his breathing stutters while his hips buck suddenly, pressing a collection of whispered curses from both of your mouths, “Now you beg?”

“Just please fuck me, please.”

The way his cock twitches inside you tells all you need to know on how he feels about your words.

Curls brush the side of your neck as he reaches to bite at your lobe, grunting and moaning into it while speeding up his hips so much your own moans become stuttered and desperate.

As the end nears, Gawain presses his lips to yours, nearly missing in his eagerness, and opens his mouth as if to say something but no words leave him, only a loud moan of your name ringing across the cave just as your body does the same.

Your mind is eerily quiet as you come down, blinking eyes you don't recall closing and feeling the next king breathe against your naked chest while gathering himself. After a moment he raises himself on shaky arms to gaze down at you, hand reaching to brush a stray hair from your cheek and sighing as if suddenly, all is right in the world.

[malehypnofantasy]

Read Part 2 here

Ben Richards is the ultimate all-American douchebags. He's blonde, he's muscular, and he's rich, and he knows he's a hot shit so that laid out the foundation for his ego.

He's also well-connected, with his family embedded deep within the political and economic leadership of not only in the United States, but also globally. The sheer level of power the young brat holds compounded with his attractive looks made him feared, respected and the most important of all, adored.

People wanted to be on his good side and everyone tried to get close to him. But only the reserved few that can get close to him and enjoyed all the perks of being his good friends. The others won't be seen or noticed by Ben and he wouldn't even hesitate to set the record straight or put people back to their places id he wished to do so, and that involved regular people like Casey that he viewed just as insignificant miscreant. Yet, that didn't phase Casey anymore, not when he got his magical power by his side, as Ben would be nothing but his mere puppet to play with.

Casey's family member always preached the need for a sorcerer to have not only strong mentality, but also strong physique as magic tend to consume a lot of energy and can push a magician to its physical limit. Having stronger physique means higher tolerance of pain and limit to exert one's magic, and for Casey, Ben is the answer to it. Casey is just simply too lazy to work out to build his body and endurance, and with his family never worked with magic in related to physically transform oneself, he needed to resort something more involving mental. The plan that Casey have in mind is to basically hijack Ben's body and use that jock's body as a proxy. From the memory of his great grandfather, such feat is possible as certain magician pulled it off in the past to create this front for their business enterprise with mere mortal as their original form seemingly unable to wield charisma or charm that they are lacking while human have this tendency to fall and adore someone that exude such quality

Ben's latest update involved a shirtless selfie he took in the gym. That's almost an hour ago, and per latest intel, Ben supposedly went to Walmart after his gym session. When Casey and Ethan finally arrived in Walmart's parking lot, they spotted Ben's electric blue BMW still parked nicely with no one inside, so they know they just need to wait for the jock to walk out from the store.

After around 15 minutes of waiting, Ben finally walked out with several groceries bag in both hands. Watching from safe distance inside their own car, Casey eyed Ben like the prey he is while Ethan just stared at Ben with no regards to the safety of his supposed frat bros as he is already gripped tightly under Casey's control. Casey then started to make his move as Ben finished with putting down his groceries inside his car. He walked out from the car and then called the jock while running. As Ben turned around then made eye contact, Casey utilized the opportunity to froze the muscular jock under his control. His 20/20 vision proven to be his shortcomings as he clearly entranced with Casey's eyes he managed to see. With zero control over his body, he stripped himself off and then forced to turn around and faced the car by Casey.

Ethan eventually followed Casey to walk out from the car. From the distant, he witnessed Casey pressed his body close to Ben's body and a radiant glow emanated from the two. The glow turned blinding as Ethan got closer but after several seconds, the light vanished and while Ben's body flopped to the car seat, Casey's body dropped to the road. Ethan dashed his way to see what is happening and trying to find way to help Casey, but once he got closer to the car, Ben suddenly roared as he flexed his muscle

"Hey there Ethan, how do you like me now?" Ethan's eyes went wide, is that his Master's voice coming out of Ben Richard's mouth?? "--sorry, that doesn't sound right. How do you like me now?" Said Ben now with his usual tone and air of confidence that accompanied his sultry, deep voice

"Master, what happened?"

"Well, what about you put my body to the backseat and I'll explain to you what's up,"

So with ease, Ethan lifted Casey's original 130 lbs body and shoved it to the backseat and trampled Ben's gym bag as he then seated himself in the front passenger seat

"Okay, so let me explain---"

[thlayli-ra]

A Sinner at Heart

AO3 Version Here

Characters - LA Knight, Nick Aldis

Pairing - LA Knight/Nick Aldis

AU - Valetverse (created by Syreina)

Rating - Mature (18+ only!)

Warnings - Valets and Dominants, Sub/Dom Undertones, Flirting, Male Slash, Stripping, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, No Prep, Sex for Favours

Words - ~4,500 words

Background Info - In a world where women no longer exist, society is split into two; dominants (the ruling class) and valets (who possess the 'inualidus chromosome' that allows them to bear children). Stripped of basic human rights, valets are expected to be entirely subservient to the dominants that claim them and few are prized higher than the valets of the WWE.

Summary - LA Knight knows exactly what he wants - and he's not afraid to stoop to one of his old tricks to get it!

For @stripeydani - Enjoy! 😘

     LA Knight was a valet on a mission. He knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how he was going to get it. 

     It just meant bending his newfound morals a little bit. Fall back on one of his old tricks. A well-tried-and-tested trick, it should be pointed out.

     Making his way through the backstage area, he strode up to Nick Aldis' office door and lingered there a second or two. This wasn't a time for barging in and making demands. Men like Aldis preferred things done a certain way, a professional way. Which was why he'd planned it all out in advance, down to the finest detail. 

     He'd called Aldis' PA to make the appointment days ago, early in the afternoon to avoid any undesirables butting in on his time and had made sure he arrived early. As temped as he'd been to strut in wearing only his gear, he'd opted for a more conservative look - his signature vest, yellow shirt (with the sleeves cut off, of course - he was going for modest here, not prudish!) and, to finish off the look, the tightest pair of jeans he owned. 

     The denim was practically creaking against his pert, round ass as he checked himself over one last time. Neatly trimmed hair and beard? Check! A thin dusting of baby oil on his exposed arms (just enough to make him glisten without looking like a walking GI Joe doll)? Check! And, most important of all, his sunglasses, to hide the greatest weapon in his arsenal, his big baby blues, until he needed to unleash them with a dramatic flourish.

     Check and double check!

     He was ready! And judging from the hands on his watch, he was right on time.

     He rapped his knuckles against the door and after a beat, a deep voice beckoned him inside. 

     'Mr Aldis?' Knight enquired politely as he stepped into the office, closing the door carefully behind him.

     The Smackdown general manager glanced up from his paperwork, looking as dashing as ever in his three-piece suit with his neatly coiffured hair and five o' clock shadow on his chin. 'Thought we already talked about this, Eli,' he said, getting up from his desk to offer his hand to the valet, showcasing his impressive size. Tall and broad, a classic dominant build. Knight liked them big. 'Call me Nick.'

     'And I thought we already talked about how it's LA now,' Knight replied with a cheeky grin, accepting the dominant's hand and giving it a firm shake. He wasn't offended by the mistake - the pair had known each other for years, from back when they'd both worked in the indies and went by different names. Sometimes, even Knight's own husband, Bobby Lashley, called him by his old moniker in bed, probably because his little infatuation with the boastful valet had started back then. But Knight didn't care; so long as it was his name he cried out as he came.

     The GM gave a small laugh. 'Of course, my apologies. Please, take a seat.' He motioned to the chair but Knight instead chose to perch himself on the edge of the GM's desk. Either the dominant didn't notice or didn't mind as he settled back into his desk chair. 'How can I help you today... LA?'

     The valet took note of the way Nick put emphasis on his name. It sent shivers down his spine. He'd always been a sucker for an accent. Scottish, especially. There was something extra filthy about his ex Drew's rugged intonation between the sheets. Same with Joe Hendry, one of the few valets he'd fooled around with, with his softer but no less robust dialect, the thought of which made him weak at the knees.

     But English... oh, he appreciated an English accent! Especially those that filled every word with bewitching charm. Like Lord Regal. Like Wade Barrett.

     Like Nick Aldis!

     'I think you already know why I'm here?' Knight said, smiling sweetly at the GM.

     Nick lowered his head with a sigh and tapped the butt of his fountain pen against his desk. 'If you're looking for Logan Paul then he's not here tonight.'

     'Well, well, what a surprise!' Knight scoffed. 'What's he doin' this time? Filming another stupid video? Tiring out some washed-up old-timer in the boxing ring? Losing to a four year old in the World Tiddlywinks Championships?' Nick looked away to hide the mirth on his face. 'You know, over on the red brand, they've got Sami Zayn defending that IC title week-in-and-week-out against some of the biggest, most dangerous dominants on the roster. Our Undisputed Champion, Cody Rhodes, is here for every taping and every live show and every PLE and all the press in between.'

     Nick gave a nod, seeing Knight's point. Because for once, he had a point! Now, he only had to add himself into the equation.

     'And you've got a guy like me turning up, putting my body on the line, practically breaking myself in half on ladders then showing up for work on Friday. Doesn't matter that I'm all banged up, doesn't matter I've got bruises on my pretty face, I'm here. Not swaggering in whenever I damn well feel like it, like our so-called 'US Champion'. You ask me, he's more a BS Champion.'

     'Clever,' Nick teased. 'How long did it take you to come up with that one?'

     'Rolled off my tongue right now as a matter of fact,' Knight replied, smugly. The GM was taking the bait nicely but Knight was in no rush to hook him in just yet. Where was the fun in that?  'Look, I've already chased this dummy around the block, even went as far as going to his damn house and enjoyed a little dip in his pool-'

     'Yes, and we spoke about that,' Nick cut in, his tone a warning for the valet.

     'Well if I can't go knocking on his door again then what must I do to get this dummy in the ring? I've been in Elimination Chambers and King of the Ring tournaments and Money in the Bank matches, I beat AJ Styles one-two-three at Wrestlemania, hell, I've gone toe-to-toe with the Head of the Table himself, Roman Reigns and came within a whisker of becoming the Undisputed WWE Champion so what else?' 

     Knight shuffled around the desk until he was sat on Nick's side, directly facing the dominant who was reclining back in his desk chair. Without a hint of subtlety, the GM's eyes travelled down to ogle Knight between his open legs, his generous bulge straining against the tight denim. That's it. Have a good look. You play your cards right you might even get more intimately acquainted.

     'You want me to go out there tonight and have another triple threat match for the number one contendership? Then fine, if you all need me to prove myself again, I've got my gear with me. Just let me go put on my boots and trunks and I'll-

     'Will you be wearing anything under those little red trunks of yours this time?' Nick's eyes sparkled cheekily up at the valet, who couldn't help but cough out a hearty laugh, a wide grin breaking his lips.

     Oh, this is just too damn easy! 

     Leaning closer, Knight peeked over the rim of his sunglasses. 'You saw that, huh?'

     'Everybody saw it!' Nick quirked his eyebrows.

     'Did you like it?' The grin travelled up Knight's cheek. 'Like how baby-smooth I keep myself down there?'

     Nick said nothing but kept his mischievous eyes on the valet.

     'Hey, you're in charge. You wanna see me rolled up like a pretzel while my opponent get all handsy with my smalls, you just gotta make the call.'

     Nick cleared his throat and sat up straight, pretending to get back to work. 'Friendly reminder that this is a family show LA, so keep the family jewels covered up in the future.'

     'Sure thing,' Knight said. He wasn't fooled by the sudden lack of interest; the dominant just wanted to remind Knight that he was the one in charge here. And hey, if he needed his ego massaged, then Knight was more than happy to oil up his hands. 'Is this appropriate enough, Boss?'

     'Is what appropriate enough?' Nick asked, scribbling away on his paperwork. 

     'What I'm wearing right now?' Knight nudged his knee in closer towards the GM, encroaching on the form he was trying to fill. The question hung in the air. The hand holding the fountain pen stopped, frozen in space.

     But Knight could see Nick's eyes lingering on his beefy thigh, admiring every curve and groove. The valet stayed silent and waited, letting the mouse make the next move.

     Slowly, Nick's hand slinked its way across the desktop towards the offending limb. Scaling the hard face of his knee, the hand smoothed its way up and up, fingers splayed, eventually coming to halt at the peak of Knight's inner thigh, his pinkie finger wedging itself into the groove at his pelvis to nuzzle against his bulge. The valet took in a small, shuddering gasp. A beautifully executed piece of acting that worked perfectly to please the GM.

     'Lashley-'

     'We have an agreement. He can keep this wild mare but he can't tame me. I've got to run free.'

     Nick wasn't looking at him. Both his eyes and hands were too occupied with the prize waiting for them between the valet's legs.

     'What is it you're wanting here, exactly LA?'

     'A shot at the US title,' Knight said with ease, 'at Summerslam.' 

     The dominant gave a nod of his head, considering the demand. 'Go lock the door.'

     Knight twisted around to spy the office door, taking the opportunity to push out his chest and shoulders. 'Already got it on my way in.'

     Nick huffed a laugh. 'You were rather sure of getting your own way, weren't you?'

     'I always do,' the valet tilted his chin back, arrogantly.

     'Take your shirt off!'

     'Yes, Boss.'

     Shucking off his vest and muscle tee, Knight tossed them to the floor by which time, Nick had put down his pen and pushed back his desk-chair. Hooking a hand under each of Knight's thighs, he coaxed the valet down onto his lap and admired the tanned, chiselled muscle on display. Stroking a hand over one Herculean pec and up his collarbone, he  smoothed along a broad shoulder then up the side of the valet's strong neck, teasing Knight's bearded cheek with the back of his fingers. A fingertip caught the bridge of Knight's sunglasses and eased them down his nose slightly, revealing the pretty blues underneath.

     'Want them off, Boss?' Knight asked.

     'No.'

     The hand grabbed Knight's bristled chin and pulled him close, locking their lips together. Their tongues sloppily clashed, swirling around to explore the deepest crevices of each other's mouths, all while Nick kept a firm grip on Knight's jaw. 

     Even when they finally pulled back for a breath, each man's chests starting to heave a little heavier, that strong hand refused to let go. Ensuring that those slivers of sea breeze watched the GM as his other hand went to his throat to loosen the knot of his tie and undo the top button of his shirt. Knight drew in his bottom lip, following the hand as it trailed down to unfasten the buttons of Nick's waistcoat next, lightly pushing the fine fabric apart. The hand on his chin angled down, leading its captive audience to witness the dominant unbuckling his leather belt.

     But there, the game stopped. 

     Knight realised it was his turn. 

     He moved his hands towards Nick's waist and unfastened the final button and zipper on his suit pants, digging one hand in to release the GM's dick, already semi-hard and keen. The thumb on Knight's chin stroked back and forth tantalisingly.

     'Well...?' Nick asked, cocking an eyebrow at the valet.

     'I think I can help with that, Boss.' One hand wrapped around the dominant's shaft, the other coerced his legs apart so that he could slip down between them. Once positioned on his knees, Knight shuffled in close, rolling his tongue over his lips to moisten him. Right before he took it into his mouth, he pumped his hand up the entire length, squeezing right at the tip until the blood pooled and turned the skin a delicious dark red.

     Nick growled when the valet engulfed the entire head into his mouth in one gulp, craning his neck back in the early throes of pleasure when lips tightened around the sensitive skin and began to suck. Knight's soft, wet tongue entered the fray, slurping up the underside of his cock, teasing the bump where his foreskin crinkled against his shaft. 

     'Hmmph!' the dominant's fist flew up to his mouth but didn't stifle the grunt in time, as Knight's tongue swirled around his cock head. The cheeky tip honed in on the eye, drawing circles around it before attacking, boring its way in. The GM's chin shot up, lips pulling back in a barely controlled snarl. 

     From down below, Knight gazed up over the rim of his sunglasses, eyes sparkling with wickedness. Man, oh man, did he enjoy watching these big, brutish men fall apart like a cheap condom under his power. And he'd barely even touched the guy yet. While he continued teasing the head, he used one free hand to stroke up and down the barrel in slow, tight motions while the other fondled his balls, each sensation hitting a sweet spot for the GM as evidenced by the swelling implement between Knight's hollow cheeks.

     Pumping his fist all the way to the base, the valet went for seconds, swallowing more of the dominant down. In his peripheral vision, he could see both sets of Nick's fingernails digging into the leather arms of his desk-chair and felt a pang of indignation that he was not the recipient of those talons. Claw my shoulders, claw my back, grab me by my hair! Come on, you're a dominant. Live up to it!

     He retaliated by sucking. Hard and slow. Taking in more and more until he could feel it prod the back of his throat. Fortunately by now, Knight was a master of his gag reflex and opened his throat up to welcome the rest of the dominant in, guzzling him down until his nose nestled in the course brown hair at the base of his dick.

     He looked up again. Nick was looking right at him. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed, a bead of sweat started to slide down his glistening brow. Whose game is it now? Knight inwardly chuckled, as he gazed up over his sunglasses which were pressed tight into the crook of Nick's thighs, poking into the soft flesh on either side while his blue eyes shimmered with all the wonder of a disciple admiring their saint.

     Knight gave a wink. And hummed.

     Nick tossed his head back, a deep, throaty whine spitting through his gritted teeth. 

     Knight kept moving, pulling back to let the rock solid cock slip from his mouth then ramming it back in again, all while his fingers kneaded Nick's balls and his sunglasses prodded into his inner thigh. Each thrust and pull and squeeze and prong released a barrage of fresh curses and indecipherable noises from the GM's lips. His fingernails started to shred through the leather on the arms of his chair.

     The jealousy became too much and Knight grabbed one of the offending hands and clamped it down on his head, hissing when they twisted into his dark curls harshly. A pleasant sting. The dominant's other hand moved on its own accord to snake around the back of Knight's head, brushing back and forth along the feathery bristles where he had newly shorn it. 

     The pressure in Knight's mouth was becoming too much. The GM was about to burst his load any second, disappointing the valet who was having far too much fun. 

     Fortunately, the dominant had other plans. The hand in Knight's hair gripped tightly, yanking him back and eventually off of his painfully throbbing dick with a loud, wet pop. The valet's wet chin was grabbed again and jerked skyward, two pairs of glazed eyes tried to focus on one another through the haze.

     'No...' the Englishman slurred out breathlessly. 'Up.'

     Knight's legs were weak, wobbling at the knees but he managed to struggle up to his feet. Desperate fingers pawed at the waistband of his super tight jeans, practically tearing the denim off of his thick thighs. 

     Nick hitched a breath, spying the special treat Knight had hidden for him under his pants.

     He wasn't wearing any underwear!

     'Oops! Guess I didn't learn my lesson from last time, Boss,' he said coyly, thrusting his hips forward to emphasise the meaty appendage between his legs, already a deep pink and starting to swell. Dipping his head, Knight peeked over the rim of his sunglasses, feigning all the innocence of a young valet on his claiming night. 'You gonna punish me?' 

     The loaded question hung in the air, charging the atmosphere.

     Until Nick answered with a growl. Snaring the valet in his mighty grip, he dragged him back onto his lap. Lathering up his fingers with the mess of pre-cum and spit from his cock, he slid them under Knight when the valet interrupted him.

     'Only good boys get prepped,' he smirked, 'and I aint a good boy.'

     The GM stared viciously at the valet, heaving breaths whistling through his teeth. 'No. I suppose you're not!'

     The fingers quickly forgot their mission and instead latched onto Knight's flanks, smearing their mess onto his hip. Together, they lifted the valet up until his dry hole lined with Nick's sopping wet dick. Knight pushed down hard, trying to break the seal quickly. He was certain he'd lubricated the GM enough for it to slip right in but it still met plenty of resistance, making him wince loudly at the burn, feeling every inch as it widened him up.

     But damn! Did it feel good! 

     Bobby never fucked him raw. Said it was for the valet's own welfare, (although really, it was probably because the dominant didn't feel comfortable doing it) but there was something about the intensity and the pain that made it all seem so... nasty! Like he was committing a cardinal sin. 

     He may have been a changed man now, on a mission of redemption to alter his selfish ways and make amends for every wrong he had caused in the past. Yet, underneath all that self-improvement and character reform...

     ... he was still a sinner at heart!

     Nick began to buck his hips and thrust in deeper, grinning like a jackal at every sweet whimper it tore from the valet's throat. 'Is that punishment enough?' he asked right before punching his way in rougher, keeping an iron grip on Knight's hips so that he couldn't pull away as he drove himself in right to the hilt.

     Knight gritted his teeth at the sting before letting out an obnoxious scoff. 'Don't think I've learnt my lesson yet, Boss.' 

     'Well, we can't have that now, can we?'

     The thrusting turned more rhythmic, pumping more than thrusting and now that Knight was acclimatising, he started to relax. Pushing back against the dominant's hips, his eyes rolled into the back of his head whenever he felt Nick's cock hitting his g-spot, grinding against that large bundle of nerves that spat out sparks of ecstasy at every touch. His lower jaw went limp and he began to moan and groan with growing pleasure.

     'Enjoying yourself?'

     'How can you tell?' Knight could barely open his heavy eyes, squeezing himself as close as he could against Nick's hot groin.

     'You're being very noisy,' Nick said, in that same professional manner he used for contract briefings, only a little breathier than usual. 'I knew you were loud in the ring but didn't realise it was this bad out of it.'

     'Afraid someone might hear?' Knight smirked. The GM answered with a stern look. 'Hey, you wanna shut me up, you know how.'

     Nick grabbed Knight by the back of his head and smashed their mouths together. Knight's sunglasses clanked as the bridge of their noses collided. Clamping his lips over Knight's loudmouth, he gagged him with his tongue, shoving it in between his teeth, stifling the needy groan that thrummed from the valet's throat. 

     As their mouths tangled above, their hips merged below, working together in perfect harmony to wring every ounce of pleasure from them both. Knight had completely opened up, the thin lube of his earlier spit adding some ease to the motion. Nick kept hitting that marvellous piece of him deep inside but every sound Knight made was muffled by his boss' lips. 

     Soon, even the GM began to break his own rules. Ravaged noises rumbled from his own throat. If Knight could smile through the intense kissing, he would be beaming from ear-to-ear. The pace picked up, getting frantic. He struggled to keep up, his thighs throbbing as he bounced up and down on Nick's lap. The kissing degenerated into open mouth panting, both men's breaths fogging the other's cheek. Sparkles of bright colours like fireworks began to burst behind Knight's closed eyes. 

     Nick came first, spilling his seed, wet and hot inside of the valet. The feel of it oozing down his back passage, and the strangled snarl that accompanied it, was enough to spiral Knight into his own climax. He only had a chance to yelp for a second before his mouth was covered again, every one of his unchecked wails smothered by the GM's lips sealed against his own.

     Only once he'd finally finished, did Nick let him go, tugging on his swollen, deep-pink lips with his teeth before slumping back into his desk chair and swallowing air down like a starved waif.

     From up above, Knight was a wretched, crumpled shade of the 'modest' valet he'd walked in as. Clothes gone, hair dishevelled, his sunglasses slanted lop-sided on the bridge of his nose. His hazy blue eyes never wavered from the GM, bushy brows high as his shoulders rose and fell.

     'Well...?' he uttered, mirroring Nick's earlier question.

     The GM creaked open one glazed eye and cleared his throat. Sitting back up, he reached around the valet for a tissue from the box on his desk and nonchalantly wiped at the mess left from Knight's orgasm on his pants and shirt. Without asking, Knight grabbed a tissue for himself but it was swiftly snatched away by Nick who then used it to tenderly clean the valet's cock. 'I think I can help you with that.'

     'With my dick or with my US Title match?'

     Nick said nothing, only continued to mop up his temporary lover between the legs until he was satisfied. Finally looking up to catch the curious blue eyes staring back at him, he reached over to right his wonky sunglasses. 'Come back here after the show starts. I will have one of the guys type up a contract for you and leave it on my desk for you to pick up.' 

     'Sounds good,' Knight nodded with approval. 'Will it have Logan Dumbass' signature on it too?'

     'That,' Nick pushed the valet's sunglasses back up to the top of his nose with his index finger, 'is your mission.'

     Knight drew in a breath. Mulling it over. 

     'Leave it with me.'

     'You're the man for the job.' Pulling a comb from his inside pocket, Nick ran it through Knight's slightly damp curls, teasing them back off his sweaty forehead. Once he was satisfied that he'd smartened the valet enough, he grasped him by the chin, gentler than before and pulled him in for a parting kiss. 'The words you're looking for, by the way, are 'thank' and 'you'.'

     'Right back at ya!' Knight parried.

     Nick smiled softly, pecking the valet on the lips. 'Thank you.'

     'And thank you, Boss.' He tipped his head to the side cheekily. 'Will you be here later when I come to pick it up?'

     'Unfortunately not,' Nick replied, smoothing his hands over the valet's naked thighs and down his muscular chest, 'but you can knock on my door any time.'

     As promised, when Knight popped into Nick's office after Smackdown started, he found a contract for a US title match against Logan Paul at Summerslam waiting for him. He decided to waste no time and searched for a pen, grinning filthily as he picked up the fountain pen he'd made Nick abandon earlier, and signed his name on the dotted line. Now, he just needed to get the other. 

     He would think of a way. He always got what he wanted. Always!

     Heading back outside, he found a slew of others waiting in line to see Nick, among them those two vain buffoons, Pretty Deadly. 'Hey dummies, he aint here!' he informed them then walked away before the carnage hit. Striding down the hallway, he admired his prize while Bobby's voice echoed between his ears.

     'Just... don't do anything stupid when I'm not there, like, I dunno, sleep with the boss.'

     Knight was sure he meant Hunter though. Pretty sure...

     Instead, he focused on the contract in his hand, almost feeling something radioactive emitting from it. Something exciting! He deserved this, he had earned it, with his blood, his tears and his sweat - a whole lot of sweat! And come Summerslam, he would have his hand raised and that gold around his waist then there would be no more doubt who's game this is, with everybody saying-

     The lights flickered.

     Knight looked up but by the time his wide blue eyes found the light source it had returned to normal. He let out a stuttered breath, balling his fist up tight.

     'Yeah, thought I'd be seeing you,' he snarled under his breath, glancing around him for any other tell-tale signs. 'Knew as soon as I saw that mess you made on Raw that you'd be showing your ugly, rubber face over here.' Nothing. Everybody was going about their business, as if they hadn't noticed. 

     'Well, here's the deal, Howdy,' Knight went on. 'I don't give a damn if you're back. I don't give a damn if you've got a bunch of cross-eyed halfwits running around in masks doing your bidding. I aint never gonna belong to you again. You come gunning for me, you ain't tangling with the same guy you were before. I'm ready for you, and I'm gonna do what I should have done the last time you tried to lock me in your damn cage.

     'I'm gonna put you down. For good!

     'But, for now,' he gazed lovingly at his contract, 'I've got bigger fish to fry. YEAH!'

[live-laugh-legolas]

Allô!

For your Fellowship requests thingy, may I, pretty please, ask you to consider, the Fellowship's favourite individual clothing items? Sort of like what colour it is, and like whether it's their favourite because it's dramatic af or 'cuz it's really comfy or very sentimental or something? I hope this makes sense! 🙃

Btw, your headcanons are the best things ever, I love when I find a new post of yours on my dash! Makes me smile every time! 😊💙

Thank you so much! You’re too sweet :)

Their favorite article of clothing

Aragorn:

-I mean my first thought was obviously Arwen’s necklace but that feels like a cheat answer

-He definitely isn’t someone to easily get attached to material objects

-Life as a ranger doesn’t really allow for that

-However I could see him maybe being a bit attached to an old cloak

-He has newer ones but he keeps returning to the “old reliable” that isn’t very reliable because it is only patches at this point

-Maybe it was a gift from his Mother

-It is a bit short on him as well (let’s not forget he is canonically 6’6”)

-So now it’s more of a “blankie” than something he actually wears

Legolas:

-He is very particular about his shoes

-They have to be light and so he can feel the ground through them

-More like socks with a thin sole and maybe some ankle support if he’s feeling fruity

-He won’t wear anything that is constricting

-In general he is picky about how his clothes feel

-Some materials just give him the ick

-Once as a kid his father made him wear a formal outfit that was too itchy and he straight up stripped in front of guests; and he doesn’t regret it, he would do it again

-He doesn’t care much how his clothes look though; he bases his choice on feel and mobility

-He’s so pretty he could literally wear garbage and still look stunning

-In general he prefers his clothes to be simple and practical

Gimli:

-Armor

-Specifically his shoulder pads

-You might think they have some sort of sentimental value to them

-But really he just likes how they look

-They broaden his already broad shoulders which makes him feel very attractive

-Probably has some jewelry that was gifted to him that he is very proud of

Boromir:

-He absolutely has a silk robe at home

-I imagine it being a pale blue

-I would say silk pjs but he gets too hot while sleeping to wear them

-So a robe is perfect

-Especially after a bath; silk robe and comfy slippers

-Has worn it out and given a few innocent bystanders a bit of an eyeful

-Faramir often has to tell him to get dressed; he’s creating a poor image for himself and he scared a maid

Frodo:

-This hobbit has like 3 outfits he wears

-Not that he doesn’t have other clothes

-He has a whole dresser full; but he just wears the same thing basically everyday

-And the variations he does are just in color; he bought the same thing in every color

-He doesn’t have to think about what he is going to wear; he already knows; he wore it yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that

-Has a handmade scarf from Bilbo trying to teach him to knit

-Does Bilbo knit? Not really, but he gets the gist of it

Sam:

-He has one really nice vest he got as a hand me down from his old gaffar

-And he only wears it for really special occasions

-Very careful with it; nothing will spill on it

-Takes it off immediately when he gets home so he is wearing it for as little time as possible so it doesn’t get worn out (and so he doesn’t feel like he needs to wash it)

-Washing it could ruin it and it wouldn’t smell right

-And that’s a risk he won’t take

Merry:

-I could totally see Merry being a hat guy

-Not like normal caps or anything

-But if anyone has seen Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium there is a boy in the film who collects unique hats

-He doesn’t wear them all but he is very proud of his collection

-He has a themed hat for every occasion

-Very fond of his flowery sunhat; it’s practical and cute

Pippin:

-Ok, hear me out

-He is very serious about his underwear

-Definitely has a “lucky pair”

-Don’t knock it; everyone has a favorite pair

-He claims it “holds everything like a nice hug”

-Not shy about it either; will go into specifics about why a pair is super horrible

-“There is a seam that goes right on up there. And it’s awful! I can’t be going all day fishing around my-“ “alright we get it Pip”

Gandalf:

-I’m pretty sure this man has one set of clothes and they are very shabby

-Like I’m sorry but his robes definitely have a strong scent; not necessarily bad, but certainly earthy and like an attic

-How they have lasted so long no one knows; probably some magic or something

-He does have a pair of gloves Bilbo made as a gift that he treasures

-Are they lopsided? Yes

-Do they have some holes from missing a stitch? Also yes

-Does he care? Absolutely not

———————————————————————

I lost my favorite sweatshirt while on vacation recently and I definitely had a mental breakdown… I still grieve for it months later

[bookishcatcafe]

Of the Full Moon (Stolas POV Fic Post-Full Moon ep.)

The silence in Stolas’s halls were unlike any other. He could still hear it ringing across the recesses of his mind. An apology, started, yet unfinished.

              I fucked up—again. Another love now lost. If Stella was here to see this…I can only imagine the tormenting taunts she’d throw at me. The ‘Sorry-not-sorry’ and a dash of ‘I told you so’s’. You poor thing.

              Poor thing…Poor you. You sad disgrace of a Goetia. No. A disgrace of a lover, Hellborn, father, and a fucking friend! Who else deserves love? Not you. Has father taught you nothing? He showed you nothing of importance. Your earnestness is queer, stripped away like the crown on your brow, and the stars at your fingertips. No one will look your way. Not your daughter. Nor your ex or your friends. Not even yourself.

              The bed still unruffled. The wind drifts across these corridors and carries with it no laughter or lustful moan. Merely, a soft afternote of lavender dimly is emitted in the main chambers. On the counter, was an empty pill bottle. Beside it a freshly cut rose, liquid dripping from one of its thorns. Stolas wandered down the halls, his butler no where to be seen nor his daughter. His finger pricked by his rose, dripping down a shallow trail of black.

              Come back.

              The full moon was bright, sending down to the foreground light like that of the shimmering sun.

              Is that what Heaven is like?

              In the garden, he opened the greenhouse, observing his beauties stand around or slowly creak as they watched him enter. It was a humid stench, weighing down his shoulders, his eyes feeling the weight first before his chest felt the same.

              Only to see you. Only to hold you. Come back.

              The path below his bare taloned feet were cobblestone, near each plant a small identification card, he treated this place not as some basic arboretum but a place of solace and safety. Now laying atop the cobblestone path, curled, a man-eating-lotus trap curled over too breathing over his face. In unconscious decision, he rubbed its head, only for it to curl back into standing position, turning to and fro to each possible exit.

              Don’t look my way.

              Stolas held onto his chest with his bloody palm, the tears flowing in silent whimpers. A gentle hoot or two came out between the sobs. The weight of Hell towering over him and he simply ached for the light at the precipice between then and now.     

              If I just took the time to listen to him. If I just stopped talking for just one damn moment. If I could’ve been clearer and actually fucking was sympathetic for the first time in my life…he’d be here with me. Why did I shut him down so fast? Am I tired of the games? Does he even love me? He kept blabbering on about sex…and I love that about him…but I just want something else outside of that. Why couldn’t I have just gone along with it?

              The way he yelled at me, about my royal status, I am not like the others. I have tried and tried hard to learn from his point of view. I have tried to make it work between us. I wanted it to work, I got the crystal to make it so, and yet I ruined it with my aristocratic beak!

              He shuddered, feeling nauseous now, shutting his eyes to push away the light of the moon which inched its ways past his eyelids and seeped into his being.

              Blitz…was crying. His usual tough exterior was cracked by what I said. His vulnerability unshrouded by my words and he yelled at me. I fucked up. I fucked up horribly. I just…don’t know how to make this right again. Is it my choice to make us whole again? Were we even whole to begin with?

              Drifting away, on a paper boat without a bottom, far from isles and the lighthouse dimly lit, the fog overtook thought and mind, and he became waterlogged.

He…was right.

[pantsaretherealheroes]

wip wednesday/belated tease tuesday (it's been a busy week!) but thanks @cal-daisies-and-briars and @jeeyuns for tagging me in both of these i think guys, i appreciate it <3

this is a snippet of this very micro vignette au i'm working based on me watching the first episode of orphan black: echoes and being like, damn, avan jogia's character is basically eddie except for the heterosexuality

under the cut for dash saving

The warehouse seems to be empty but it can’t be. There’s another structure over the other side, not that far away. 

He runs over to it, and hides just in time, out of sight of all the security guys swarming over the box he just escaped.

The door to the second structure is locked, which he might think of as suspicious if he wasn’t just solely operating on the need to get out. 

It’s creepy in this one, too. There’s seemingly, again, no one in it. And there are all these models of body parts, legs, hands, ears, eyes. Like a story from the past - like that one with the scientist and the creature that he can’t quite remember right now - but instead of gaslamps there are cold electric strip lights. All of the lighting is either blue or white. 

It’s so creepy. 

There’s a tank towards what must be the end of the structure. 

He feels a chill down his spine.

There can’t be anything good in that tank. 

He walks towards it anyway.

Somehow, he has to know what’s in it. 

He moves to stand in front of it. He presses a button on the keypad at random, but it must be the right one, because it opens with a hiss.

His pulse quickens. 

The tank is filled with bright pink liquid. 

He can’t see anything, but his sense of foreboding grows. 

He puts his hand it, but withdraws it quickly. It’s not hot or cold, really, but it’s thicker than he expected. Goopier. 

Something bubbles to the surface. 

His heart thunders. 

It’s something like a humanoid, but not quite. It’s almost a whole body. 

“What the fuck,” he says to himself. 

“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” 

i am for real excited about this one but i think it'll be more like a vibey one shot than a whole plot

[marley-manson]

Wedding vows for the WIP game :)

ty!

Wedding Vows was basically a no Promrose Hall AU in which Guts and Griffith are having an affair behind Charlotte's back and Charlotte finds out after several years, when Griffith is king. I think I came up with it while theorizing about how much power Griffith would actually have if he married Charlotte vs how much would come strictly from her - would he be king, consort, regent, etc? So the idea was to explore a scenario where he didn't have his own power to rule and Charlotte was fully capable of turning on him and ruining his life.

You can have everything I've written for it bc it's only like one page of introductory exposition that probably would've been completely chopped out anyway if I'd ever actually written this lol.

Charlotte had always worried about White Phoenix General Casca. The amount of trust Griffith had in her, the amount of respect he had for her, the amount of their lives they’d spent at each others’ sides… how could she not worry? Yes, she was a princess of Midland - its Queen now - but if anything that just made her more nervous. She had been born into this position, while Casca had earned her knighthood through skill and valour.

She was inexperienced, but not entirely stupid. She loved Griffith with all her heart, and she’d believed that he loved her, but there was always that seed of doubt. Did Griffith want her, or did he want her throne? Would he have chosen her if she wasn’t the daughter of a king? Did he wish she was someone else?

Being with Griffith felt like being the heroine of a story; he was exactly the sort of dashing, heroic figure who married the princess in the tales her nurse used to read to her before bed. When her father had died, hardly anyone even grumbled when she’d chosen him, despite his common birth. He was the hero who had won the hundred years war; he was charming and beautiful and looked better at her side than any of the dour noble-born men would have. Even the more conservative nobles who looked down their noses at him could hardly fault her for her taste.

And after all, he had no real power of his own - it all came through her. She was the Queen, and he was her consort, and if she chose to delegate most of the tedium of ruling a kingdom to her husband that was her right. It seemed a perfect balance - Griffith was a good leader; he weighed all his decisions carefully and always did what was best for Midland, and yet the more traditional nobles could take comfort in knowing that Windham blood still had the final word. If she chose she could strip Griffith of his power and appoint another in his place, or even step into the role herself - but she felt more than comfortable allowing him free reign and taking on an easier, more ceremonial role. It had always been what was expected of her. 

Still, sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder what Griffith really loved - her, or Midland.

Four years into their marriage Casca announced her engagement to another of the Phoenix leaders, Judeau, and Charlotte found herself breathing easier. Of course Griffith had never been romantically interested in Casca; they were friends, nothing more. The way he couldn’t help but grin even as he was trying to politely and respectfully toast her engagement wiped away any lingering traces of jealousy and filled her chest with adoration. He was such a good man. He cared for his friends, and he loved her.

So when she found him writhing and moaning with his Raider Captain’s cock inside of him a month before their seventh anniversary, it came as quite a shock.

[xxsycamore]

One Hot Love

╰┈➤ 📸 Because we're not ready to let go of summer just yet.

Fenrir Godspeed x Main Character + Fenrir/Alice/Ray/Sirius/Luka/Seth • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Polyamory; they're all dating; but focus is on fen/alice; Beach Sex; Road Trips; modern elements; i gave them cars and car radios basically; Skinny Dipping; Water Sex; Vaginal Sex; getting caught; Outdoor Sex; Banter; Black Army polycule • wordcount: 1,780 • masterlist

a/n: That was me paying homage to the passing summer WHAT HAPPENED, WHY COUDN'T I POST THIS ANY SOONER? Anyway, One Hot Love by Makoto Matsushita was THE summer song for me this year, and at one point it aligned with my ikerev nostalgia so here we are... always wanted to write a black army polycule <3

"Man, that song is stuck in my head now. Putting the only CD we could find on repeat was no doubt better than going the whole drive without any music on, but…"

"What are you talking about, you could have listened to Seth's melodic voice instead~!" Alice gawks, a hand over her heart in a display of affection that seems to be aimed at riling Fenrir up. Though, knowing how the 10 of Spades has her head over heels for him, Fenrir won't be surprised if that's her genuine reaction to listening to the man's monologues for four hours straight. And despite that they all love Seth, Fenrir is sure that in this aspect Alice is alone.

They came here with the rest of the officers and the King to check out what was reported to be a group of disciples from the Magic Tower disrupting the peace around the coast. Ray insisted on checking it out personally and the others kind of tagged along and from there it turned into a (work) road trip.

"Uhuh. Either way, boss looked like he's seconds away from taking the gun from my holster and aiming it at the car radio."

"He wasn't even the one driving, though… Was he too sleepy or something? We did get here only after it got dark yesterday but I thought it wasn't past his bedtime…"

"Pfft, sounds like him! But no. I know what got him so worked up but I won't tell ya~"

"Feeeeen! C'mon!"

Stopping in her tracks for a second, Alice lets out a deep sigh when the Ace just keeps taking long strides across the sandy path, refusing to satiate her curiosity. Letting out a loud "Hmph!" that falls on deaf ears due to the sea breeze surrounding them, Alice dashes forward to join Fenrir's side again, and keeps the pace until he's the one walking behind her instead.

A harsh and sudden gust of wind blows by, and Alice all but feels her uniform skirt flying upwards.

"Eeek!"

"Ohh, so you're wearing the pink ones! Nice!"

Putting her hands protectively on her rear as if they aren't the only two people on this beach to begin with, and as if Fenrir didn't just see everything there is to see, Alice throws him the best mean look she can muster before slowing her step so they're side by side again.

"Sorry for teasing ya. I promise I won't cheat if you want to play guess the panty color with the others tonight."

"It's really not about that!!" The focus of Alice's bewilderment quickly shifts from his ridiculous logic to the way he stops her right there and then for a kiss, full on the lips and tasting like the minty ice cream they shared awhile ago. She finds herself savoring his sweet lips, feeling the sun's warmth engulf them fully now that they stopped in their tracks.

"Ya know, I could really go for a swim right now."

Seems like he's not the only one feeling hot now.

"Just like that? Isn't the water cold…"

"One way to find out." Fenrir grins boyishly, the same smile she once fell for, and then kept falling for every day since then. Before she can even blink, Fenrir is already pulling his hoodie over his head and walking in the direction of the shore. Following the rush of wildness, Alice is no different as she gives into the moment, stripping down to her underwear. At least she diligently folds her clothes before putting them down on top of one of the nearby rocks, even if it means Fenrir would beat her at getting to the water first.

"Woohoo! Alice, come here! The water is perfect!"

Losing no more time to join Fenrir, Alice gives up on her cautious approach and lets the waves splash against her as she runs towards them, even when they make her squeal.

"Liar! It certainly is at least a little bit cold…"

"I gotcha."

Before she can complain more, Fenrir enfolds Alice in his toned arms from behind, acting like a big blanket.

"Fen… you're not wearing any underwear…"

"Yeah? Are you?"

Alice shivers as he runs one hand down to check, but the touch is more than welcomed, to her own surprise. She turns around in his arms and places hers around his neck, looking at his deep magenta eyes.

"Remember what you promised me a few months ago? About the next time we go to the beach together?"

"That I'm gonna finally have my way with you in the water like I always fantasized about? Why are you smirking at me like that now?"

Being called out on it, Alice's grin only transforms into a series of chuckles that she tries to hide against Fenrir's broad chest, hoping that he'd get the idea already.

"Alice, mind if I check once more if ya still wearing those pink panties? Just to make sure."

"F-Fen-!"

Receiving her affirmation in the form of her arms tightening their hold around his shoulders, Fenrir's calloused fingers find their way down the curve of her ass and between her legs. They slip under the thin material, crawling inside to find her dripping sex.

"Haah-"

"Still making sure, hold on."

His touch ghosts over her folds, his other hand joining on her front to stroke her clit inside her panties.

"What were ya asking about my promise to you?"

"Do you…think us coming here today counts? Ahh-"

Rubbing on her aroused nub with no remorse as if determined to make her explode on his fingers in mere seconds, Fenrir uses the proximity to the fullest as he nibs Alice's earlobe playfully.

"Do ya want it to count, Alice?"

It's a silly question, with how far they've already gotten. When they're together, it's always hard to say who started things first. The firm erection pressing flush against Alice's belly tells her they're not leaving the water without one last unforgettable summer memory.

"Make it count. I want you so bad."

"Hah! You finally said it." Fenrir chuckles, leaving a trail of wet kisses across her nape all the way to her lips, capturing them with his.

It serves as a distraction as he picks her up, making her instinctively wrap her legs around his torso.

"Hold on tight, Alice. I'm not stopping 'till you're seeing stars."

Running her fingers through the unruly locks at the base of his neck, Alice groans as she feels him guide the tip in, letting gravity do the rest as she sinks down on his girthy length with delight.

"Gods- Why haven't we done this before-"

"That's what I was asking! Ahhh- Fuck, Alice. I want you everywhere, all the time, what are you doing to me?"

Alice's hearty laughter is interrupted by the erratic moans ripped out of her throat by Fenrir's deep thrusts, and she knows perfectly how he feels.

"You can have all of me, Fen! I want you so bad! Ahhh-"

Moving her body up and down on his length at a rapid pace, Fenrir kisses every part of Alice he can put his lips on, her sun-kissed shoulders, her arms sprinkled with small seawater drops that are salty on his tongue, her nape with the sweet strawberry scent of her shampoo mixing with the sea breeze.

Alice sinks her nails into his shoulder blades, knowing how much he loves it when she does that, and lets herself go; the orgasm rushes through her body like a lightning strike, pleasure spreading hotly from deep inside her and making her whole body glow in ecstasy. She opens her eyes while throwing her head back, and takes in the endless blue sky above.

Fenrir keeps thrusting into her, making water splash around them as he whispers how close he is, how good she feels around him - and then he brings her down on him hard one last time, keeping her flush to him before filling her with his warmth.

With the cease of movement, they can finally enjoy the kisses they can't hold back from giving each other, the rustling of the sea drowning the little moans of afterglow that escape their thirsty lips. Suddenly feeling giddy again, Fenrir holds her up a little more and makes a little spin in the water, enjoying the girly squeal she lets out. It's only when she is turned to face the shore that she notices.

"Oh my god, that's Sirius and the guys!!"

"Huh?" Fenrir looks over his shoulder and indeed, he can see the figures of one man with his arms crossed on his chest and another three standing not far behind him. "Should we wave at them?"

"Hell no! C'mon, let's go!"

***

"We already ate without you, by the way."

"What?! Noooo! I'm never going patrolling with Fenrir again!"

While Alice laments the loss of her lunch, Seth is already there to squeeze himself between her and Fenrir the very second Alice lets go of Fenrir's hand.

"But Alice!~ Your knight in shining armor is here to save you from the brute, and he even packed you leftovers! I'm not letting my Alice die from hunger like that. Oh my, your face is so hot! Why haven't you put sunscreen on?"

"There he goes again…" Fenrir frowns, resorting to joining Ray's side instead, the latter patting his shoulder sympathetically. Returning the gesture by bringing his arm around Ray's shoulders in turn, Fenrir notices the label sticking out of Rey's uniform shirt.

"Oh? What do we have here?"

Upon tucking it back for him, Fenrir sees something curious and pulls a little more on the fabric, leaving a confused Ray as the group stops in their tracks.

"Hey Boss, since when are your initials S.O.?"

Seth is the first to grin knowingly, chiming in. "And aren't your sleeves a little too long?"

Luka inspects the truth of those remarks, blinking in question. "A mishap with the laundry?"

Seth trades his dear Alice's presence for that of Luka's, just so he can lean down and whisper something in his ear, shielding it with his hand while looking directly at Ray.

"That's- Hey. You two better keep your mouths shut, or- And Fenrir, we haven't finished with you yet. We talked about this."

"What? Fucking on the clock? Like hell we're the only ones doing that. Besides,"

Fenrir arrives at Alice's side again, wrapping an arm around her waist for emphasis."…That's what summer's for. Having fun."

Alice blushes, attempting to make things better even if she's just as guilty.

"Fen, it's hardly summer anymore. But… I think you can blame our love for that.

"That's one hot love, then!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[brassybrablog]

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[dynadratina]

Hello, Azula finally got announced her own comic what are your thoughts and how excited are you?

Hi, thanks for the ask! (And sorry it took a bit long.) I’ve seen so many interesting analyses about this on my dash, but I haven’t had time to really delve into them yet. So I’m not sure if I’m repeating something that’s already been said (better) by someone else. But here’s what’s been on my mind anyway.

To start, the previous comics (The Search, Smoke and Shadow) were a big let-down for me in regards to how they handled Azula. I’ll go into more detail below, but basically I was turned off by how she was made into a one-dimensional bad egg, much like Ozai was. The comics portrayed Azula as a heartless schemer since early chlidhood, implied that her friendship with Mai and Ty-Lee had zero genuineness, and chose to make a show of the effects of her breakdown rather than stepping back and examining the cause of it. Given that the character traits and relational dynamics those two comics established about her are part of official lore now, I don’t think this comic can really undo them. But still, I think there might be hope, namely if this comic really is 100% an Azula comic. That means there’s no Zuko involved in the plot, no Gaang, no Ikem, no Kiyi, and no Ursa. That way, the comic can do something that I think really needs to be done, which is finally give Azula's perspective on her pain. Just her memories, or musings, or the like, with no other main characters’ arcs distracting from it. This might not lead to her getting a redemption arc or closure from her previous friend/family relations in the comics timeline, but at the very least it can inject some glimmer of light and hope into her path. (More beneath the cut)

In my eyes, the main problem with Azula’s treatment after Sozin’s Comet is that her trauma was put on the backseat, while her evilness/craziness/machinations, etc. were given center stage. Personally, this isn’t entertaining for me, but as a more concrete problem, it’s an abrupt departure from where the show left her off.

Sozin’s Comet broke down Azula’s villainous persona and brought her pain into the forefront -- namely by showing that when everything else was stripped away, she was really just a hurt girl who felt like no one loved her, not even her mother. So in defense, she chose to prefer the role of someone who doesn’t care about love and only wants to be feared. This is a really deep and painful issue to have (one that I could personally relate to at one point), and I think it’s something that’s very important to explore.

But The Search doesn’t do that. It just puts Azula right back into the villain role she started out in, only this time she’s just more erratic. Every time her visions were showcased, there was a lot of spotlight on how crazy she looked, how villainous she was acting, or how exasperated Zuko and the rest of the Gaang were due to her.

But there was no introspection, no deeper dive into Azula’s emotions before and after Sozin's Comet. The best glimpse we get into her mind is vision!Ursa telling Azula that she needs to "remove her mask", i.e. drop the front she's been holding up her entire life, which is that of someone who rules by fear.

(Dialogue transcription) Azula: I should probably be grateful! After all, you’ve saved me the trouble of finding you. Ursa: All your life, you’ve hidden behind a mask of intimidation and fear. Azula: Prepare to meet your doom! Ursa: Take off your mask. Only then will you see the beauty of your true destiny.

If we go by the theory that this Ursa is nothing more than a figment of Azula's mind, then this is essentially Azula's subconscious telling her that this "feared evil princess" facade is unnatural and unhealthy to her. So, on some level, Azula knows she's on the wrong path and needs to change it.

But we already knew that -- Sozin’s Comet told us so. And we already saw Azula confronting her subconscious this way, namely in the mirror scene. Why are we seeing it again? And why is Azula now under the impression that all of her problems in life stem from Ursa, and that Ursa is the direct instigator of everyone’s hate for her?

From a storytelling standpoint, there’s technically no problem with having Azula face the true sorce of her pain a second time after the dramatic mirror scene. But the second time should build upon it somehow, or introduce a further aspect to the situation that details Azula's character development between those two events.

To be honest, I really can imagine Azula “relapsing” from her realization in Sozin’s Comet (namely, that her problems are the fault of her trauma-informed choices) into a bleaker, more fatalistic viewpoint that destiny itself somehow ordained for her to suffer in life. It’s honestly extremely relatable to read about someone who realizes that they had been living by a wrong choice for a good chunk of time, and instead of peppily fist-bumping the sky and going “I’ll just do better from now on!”, they fall even deeper into despair and go “Why me? Why did I have to suffer from this for so long?”

Maybe Azula had a moment like that too post-Sozin’s Comet, where she felt that she had somehow been doomed from the beginning to never be loved by anyone. And since Ursa’s face was attached to the words that she was a monster, it would make sense that Azula would come to associate Ursa as the “perpetrator” of this fate of hers.

But all of this would have to be embedded in the narrative. At some point, there would have to be a scene in the comics (from Azula’s POV or otherwise) where she stops, takes a melancholy break from whatever devious goal she’s following at the moment, and puts this mental journey into words. Say something like: “What choice did I ever even have? You, Mother, treated me like a monster, so that’s how everyone else in my life came to view me. What option did I have other than to use fear?” That would have given Azula’s obsession with Ursa some emotional continuity, and maybe even some relatability.

But instead, Azula is reduced to repeating the same bland phrases like “Prepare to meet your doom!” at Ursa, or vague variations of “How did Ursa manage to turn you against me?!” at various characters. All the while we’re given no reason as to why Azula thinks this way or what her personal takeaway is from the events of Sozin’s Comet. We’re just expected to sit back and watch what she’s become.

For example, here’s one of the “crazy” lines from The Search that sort of-kind of hints at Azula’s mental journey after Sozin’s Comet:

(Dialogue transcription) Katara: What are you talking about? Azula: None of you had even met me yet! How did she (Ursa) convince you to help her ruin my life?!

Once again Azula reveals her delusion that Ursa has been manipulating her life from the beginning. This would have been a good time for the other characters to ask why Azula thinks this way, or even to try to get through to her that such a manipulation is impossible.

But the moment is brushed aside, and it’s painted as little more than crazy Azula being crazy. And the most The Search tells us about the reason she’s being crazy is that she’s ignoring her true destiny. Which, according to S&S, is... to turn Zuko into a Fire Lord who rules through fear? Okay, but what does that have to do with Azula`s pain? Setting aside the fact that this can’t even be the destiny she wants (because as her visions show, she doesn’t want to rule through fear), the fact that Azula was unaware of this “destiny” before is not the reason she started crying when vision!Ursa told her she loved her. The reason she started crying, which was carefully built up by the show, is that the fact (imagined or otherwise) of Ursa not loving her caused Azula pain, and that the facade of the perfect, feared girl that Azula put up later on was just a defense mechanism.

This is what The Search and S&S should have explored. In the wake of the show showing us that Azula was in pain, the comics should have told us in more explicit terms -- how, why, since when, etc. They should have emphasized that Azula had trauma from her chlidhood just like Zuko had, and put Azula on a journey that was somehow relevant to that pain (healing it, or exploring it, or otherwise). Not swept all that buildup aside and sent her on another itinerary of evil plans and grand ambitions that seem to have no relation to it.

The only vague seeds of acknowledgment of Azula’s pain come from the part in The Search where the Gaang visits Noren/Ikem’s and Noriko/Ursa’s home. We see a picture of Azula, Zuko, Katara, Noriko, and Aang sitting together, Katara and Aang marveling about the lovely home they have, Zuko also smiling (his head turned towards half-hidden Kiyi), while Azula sits with her arms crossed, looking unhappy and distant from everyone else.

Also Azula acting generally cold, in stark contrast to Zuko, who happily interacts with the innocent Kiyi:

(Dialogue transcription) Kiyi: Wanna meet my doll? Azula: No. Zuko: Of course.

(Dialogue transcription) Azula: That’s right. Only I didn’t give my dolls haircuts, I gave them headcuts! Would you like me to show you? Kiyi: No! Zuko: Azula! Stop it!

Though even these scenes serve more to make Azula out to be a “monster” than underline the fact that she’s experiencing a severe lack of something; that she has a genuine need and desire that isn’t being addressed.

Then towards the end of the comic, we get the "real" Ursa (Noriko) making a supposedly-accurate observation that Azula's mother didn't love her enough, and apologizing for it.

(Dialogue transcription) Ursa/Noriko: If what you say is true... if I really am your mother... Then I’m sorry I didn’t love you enough.

But this apology doesn't come from the person Azula needs it from, which is Ursa with Ursa's memories. It could be a start (although I didn’t like this scene personally), but the topic is never brought up again once Ursa regains her memories. What did she mean by “not enough”? What is Noriko (who is seeing Azula for the first time) seeing in Azula that no one else is? The Search could have given us that, at the very least. But once Ursa regains her memories, the comic just ends with her and Zuko taking a happy walk into the bright Hira’a morning.

In Smoke and Shadow, Azula plays the role of the villain, with a great plot and scheming and cool firebending. But again, nothing about Azula’s pain. And hardly anything from the person who’s the most tied to it. The only thing we get from Ursa is this:

(Dialogue transcription) Ursa: I was actually thinking about my other daughter... Zuko: ... Azula.

Ursa doesn't even refer to Azula by name -- just as "her other daughter". Which again solidifies the narrative's portrayal of Azula as being the problematic one, the one who for whatever reason just can't be normal like Kiyi and Zuko. Yes, one could make the argument that Ursa's overprotectiveness of Kiyi in S&S is a result of her overcompensating for not having done enough for Azula, but until this is somehow made more explicit (like by being articulated by Ursa), it’ll still be up in the air, and it won’t be doing anything to acknowledge side of Azula that hurts just like the other Royal Family members hurt.

Yes, Azula's behavior in the comics is erratic, and it probably precipitated from her breakdown and her subsequent stay at the asylum. Yes, she’s still a dangerous individual, and it wouldn’t make sense for the Gaang to immediately start trusting her to the point of having deep personal conversations with her. And it also wouldn’t make sense for for her to do a complete 180 after Sozin’s Comet and not hold any antagonistic feelings for them or her family whatsoever. But the point is that all of those things resulted from Azula lacking the love she needed from her mother. Whether this lack was real or imagined, it's still a foundational influence on Azula’s character, and it’s an issue that deserves to be explored rather than pushed aside for more “interesting” things like her craziness, cool firebending fights, or evil machinations. Azula deserves a better post-breakdown development than that.

There was actually a really good moment in The Search that I’m sad wasn’t bulit upon. It happens once the Gaang leaves Ikem’s house:

(Dialogue transcription) Azula: Ugh. More than once tonight I was tempted to burn that whole place down! But I resisted for you, Zuzu. I hope you appreciate it. Katara: How could you even think that about such a lovely family?

(Dialogue transcription) Azula: Oh, please. Their charade disgusted me. Nobody’s that happy!

Gee, I wonder where Azula could have gotten that idea from? Maybe it's because she never got a glimpse of a happy family life? Maybe because, even in the days that Zuko refers to his family as being "actually happy", Azula never really felt that because she always felt like her mother's love was missing? I want a comic that explores Azula that way, instead of having the other characters scold her like a misbehaving toddler for not having the correct joyful response upon seeing an example of the happy loving family she never had, and just leaving it at that.

So to summarize, Azula needs to be given time to take a step back and examine her pain. It would be great if she got another character’s help (like a mentor who genuinely cares about her), but she could just as well start that journey alone. She needs to process her pain, lucidly reflect on where she went wrong, what things were out of her control, and what she truly wants her future to look like now. Maybe she can even retell some of her scenes in the previous comics from her point of view and use those as a springboard for her reflections. If this new comic does something like that, then I’ll be happy.

If not... well, then there are still No Comics in Ba Sing Se xD

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Hearth

(dabi) t.todoroki / reader

genre: prohero!touya, fluff

warning(s)!!: cursing ofc, dabi's atittude/snark, he's still dabi- just not a villain lol, he doesn't have his burns just his piercings, bloody piercings/lip

synposis: touya comes home with a bloody lip and three missing nose piercings, you get the honor of cleaning him up and getting him to bed for a well-deserved rest

w.count: 2.4k (probably the shortest thing i've written in years and no that's not a joke)

-x-x-x-

“Shit, that stings,” Touya hissed to himself as he felt around the bloody and bruised right nostril of his nose where three small piercings should have been. He hissed as he quickly took his fingers away from the small holes missing their jewelry. “I can’t wear nothing around here, damn.”

The commotion around him was hardly his focus when his nose stung so much, not even his split lip bothered him when he licked over it- too focused on his poor nose. It was pitiful really, getting into a scrap with a low-level thug trying to run off with a duffel full of loose bills from some random convenient store. He was fine overall, not being too unfamiliar with fistfights without having to use his quirk, but the thug sure did a number on him when he grabbed at his face- probably aiming to yank on his hair, but falling short- and somehow ripping all three of his studs from his nose.

Blood dripped in small drops off the side of his nostril and from inside his nose, creating a slow stream to his top lip which entered his mouth- filling it with the metallic taste of his blood. His pierced tongue’s metal bar tasted nothing like the iron of blood and he shook his head in distaste.

He sniffed and palmed gently at his minor wound before the cops showed up and wrapped up the situation. They offered to have his injuries cleaned up at the station- but he was so close to being finished with patrol and heading back home he didn’t bother. It wasn’t like he was in any sort of critical pain, he just wanted to rip his nose off.

His patrolling went smoothly after that, the small scuffle being the highlight of his evening and as he walked, bored back to the agency he was working at with his father (begrudgingly), he changed and slung his duffel with his gear and suit inside over his shoulder. He’d leave all this stuff in the changing room locker with his name on it and a secure lock- but you had insisted he bring it home tonight so it all could be tuned up and cleaned properly. You were a stickler about that.

Touya damn near broke into a run, mad-dashing it to the door, when he heard his father behind him call out his name when he was so, so close to the agency doors. As far as he was concerned, he was done for the day.

D o n e.

Endeavor could suck it.

He wasn’t sure how far he ran before he deemed it safe enough to slow his strides, but then the chills set it. He wasn’t cold- even if it was the middle of winter- all thanks to the cold resistance he inherited from his mother winter wasn't really ever that cold to him. If anything the sweater and joggers he wore were almost too warm with his swift escape from work.

He stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, waiting for the traffic lights to signal he could safely cross the road and have the right to sue if someone were to hit him, and looked up at the grey clouds. It looked like it was due to snow again and he chuckled to himself at mentally picturing you shiver just at the mere thought of more snow. Lowing his chin back down to look ahead, his pace quickened, already more than ready to be home.

“Hey, babe! I’m back!” Touya called into the house. The difference in temperature made him shiver- even if again, he wasn’t truly cold in the first place. Heeling off his shoes and setting them on the shoe rack, he walked inside.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You called back. He chuckled to himself as he walked into the living room first, dropping off his hero-filled duffle on the couch, and then swiveled on his heel to head into the kitchen. As he passed under the doorway, he grabbed the bottom of his sweater, pulling it up over his head and completely off as it rested on his forearms- shaking out his white hair.

You looked over your shoulder at the movement and immediately went back to whatever it was you were doing. Shaking your head in small shakes with a quiet sigh.

“Do you really need to undress in the kitchen?”

“What?” He smirked, tossing the sweater on a barstool as he basically pranced his way to your side, slinging one arm around your waist loosely with the other coming to mess with the soapy water you were currently washing dishes in. He picked up a finger-load of suds and flicked them at you, making you try and crush his toes under your heels- to which you failed. “It’s hot in here.”

“That is probably the lamest excuse you've ever used to strip,” you teased as you kept doing your thing. Looking around the counter, he saw take-out containers. Before he could question them, you started talking again. “I really didn’t want to cook today, so I ordered in. I hope that's fine.” Touya shrugged.

He wouldn't want to come home after a day of work and cook either, so it worked for him.

Detaching from you, he danced over to the containers he knew were his and took them to the island where he slid into the barstool his sweater was on and sat down on it. As you finished up, you turned to finally take a proper look at your boyfriend after his day. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes narrowed.

Was that dried blood under his nose? And was his lip split?

“Touya?”

“Whuat,” he muttered with a trail of noodles hanging from his lips between chopsticks, muffling his voice. Ever the mannerless fool.

“Do we wanna talk about the blood on your face?”

He swallowed his bite as he started scrapping around for more noodles and fewer vegetables in his container. “No, not really.”

You rolled your eyes as you left the kitchen and him to his food. Digging around in the bathroom, you tossed a few things in a small basket and went back to the kitchen where he had successfully separated all his greens from his food and set them aside. You sat on the stool next to him as he finished.

“You know it’s not good for you if you don’t eat your vegetables.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. I ain’t eatin’ ‘em.” You spun to face him as you grabbed his knee and spun his stool to face you in turn. In your basket of bathroom items were things to clean up his face.

You took his chin in your hand and twisted his jaw back and forth to look for any other injuries. “I ain’t all that banged up. Just this,” he told you with a huff. Looking at his chest and shoulders and stomach- it seemed he was telling the truth. There were no other injuries.

You would hate to see the poor guy he got into it with if all Touya had was a split lip and... all three missing piercings? You hadn't actually noticed his piercings were completely gone.

“How in the world did you lose your piercings?”

“Some prick tore them out. Got pretty into it with ‘em over it.”

“Of course you did,” you rolled your eyes again as you emptied your basket and grabbed a cotton ball between the prongs of a pair of tweezers, and coated it in saline. “Look down,” you told him as his chin dipped to your instruction and you began to clean his piercing holes. You saw his lips twitch in a silent hiss as you cleaned them as gently as possible.

Touya didn’t move from your touch at all aside from a wince here or there. When you pulled back to clean the blood on his lip and skin, he kept as still as he could as he just looked down at you. Watching you work with your eyes focused and brows pulled in concentration always made him want to laugh at how cute you looked. You were a wonder to him.

A wonder on how he managed to snag you as his own.

When you finished, you were throwing your stuff back into the basket to take back into the bathroom when you felt a weight on your shoulder. Glancing without moving your head, you caught in the corner of your vision Touya’s nest of white hair brushing your cheek and chin. His forehead rested on your shoulder as you relaxed, your boney shoulder couldn’t be comfortable to lay on.

“You’ll want to leave any new piercing out of your nose for a bit.”

“Hmm,” he gave you a small hum, but you weren’t sure if he actually heard you or was just responding to respond. He had a bad habit of hearing but not exactly listening.

Moving your head as slowly as possible to not disturb whatever moment he was trying to create with you, you saw the digital numbers on the stove showing close to midnight. While it was rare to get a quiet and soft moment with Touya, you knew he couldn’t sit with his ass on a barstool and his head on your shoulder all night. He had to shower and get changed for bed where he can sleep on a comfortable mattress.

You rotated your arm causing his forehead to push further into you, sliding to where it rested against your neck, and his cheek pushed into your shoulder instead. You reached around and rubbed his back to which he hummed at- pleased with the touch. His skin was always so warm, it almost made you envious with each shiver you would get from the chilled winter air.

“Touya,” you softly called to not drill a nail into the peace of the kitchen. He said nothing. He didn’t even hum at you, but you knew he was listening. “We have to get up. You need a shower and sleep.”

“Can’t we stay like this a while longer?” You almost gave in but looked at the clock again. As far as you knew, he had to go back to work tomorrow so he needed to get into bed asap. It pulled at your heart, but you couldn't let him stay up any later than necessary.

“No, we can’t,” you let him down easily with a soft voice and with your hand still trailing up and down along his spine. “Come on,” you shrug, “up.”

He groaned as he sat up and slid from his stool, you doing the same as you grabbed your basket of things to put back in the bathroom. Touya followed you as he rubbed at his neck and silently let out a yawn he tried hiding from you just so he couldn’t avoid admitting you were right and that he needed to go to sleep.

As you were putting things back where they belonged, Dabi had opened the door of the wide, standing, glass shower and turned the water on- waiting for the temperature to be perfect. He looked over his shoulder, seeing you putting back the saline behind the mirror in the medicine cabinet. He took the chance when the mirror was away from him and you to sneak up behind you, the running shower water masking his footsteps.

He slowly reached around your head, shutting the cabinet as the mirror swung back to face you, Touya behind you. He dropped his arm over your shoulder and lowered his head to kiss the back of yours, his other arm wrapping lazily over your chest.

“Shower with me,” he cooed, dying his voice in honey to get you to join him without a fight. When you agreed, the shit-eating grin he had on his stupid face made you want to pull on his bottom lip and reopen the split in it or maybe force open his mouth and rip out the bar in his tongue.

He always got what he wanted and it was so not fair.

After promising no funny business in the shower, getting out, drying off, and getting ready for bed, Touya was insistent that the thermostat be turned down to 68F which was absolutely not going to happen. That was way too cold for the middle of the night in the middle of winter! He may be a walking space heater, but you weren’t.

Except, when you crawled into bed, you puffed and pouted because of course he always got his way. The temperature in the dark house was a chilly 68F and you were bundled in blankets- sulking.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” he laughed as he yanked the blanket that was tucked around you away to slither his way beside you instead. As he tangled his legs with yours he was immediately pulling you closer to him by the back of your knees. One of his arms under your head to curl his wrist inward to scratch the back of your head and the other around your side to rub your back. You suddenly understood.

He just wanted to lay as close as possible to you and not verbally say it. You tried containing your small laughter at his attempt at being coy.

“What?” He groaned as he shut his eyes, trying to get sleep to come to him. You dug your face into his neck, which he happily accepted as he pushed his cheek against your forehead in return.

“Nothing,” you told him.

“Just go to sleep.”

When the next morning rolled around and Touya’s phone had begun to ring for the fourth time, you had pried his arm off you and looked over his shoulder. The screen was showing his father calling him and as you rubbed your eyes and reached over to answer it for him- since he slept like a log- your wrist was caught and you were shoved back down into his chest.

Touya, who had been awake for some time now, was well aware he was exceptionally late to the agency and no he was in no rush to get there any time soon. The old man can call all he wants- he wasn’t going in just yet. There was a reason the old man was the only member of his family to not know his address.

Endeavor can still suck it.

-x-x-x-

a/n: for some reason the image of prohero touya coming home to just coze with his partner after another day just popped in my brain and has been relentlessly curb-stomping me into an early grave

[transformers-fan-continuities]

Spotlight: Ties That Bind

This one’s a doozy folks! If you missed the last spotlight you can go read it here, but strap in for The Ties That Bind, an absolutely brilliant take on humanformers. It’s hosted here at @tiesthatbind-tf​ created by @artsy-hobbitses​!

Q) Give us a run down of your cont! What's it about, what's it called, what's it like?

Ties That Bind is a humanformers-based original continuity which is part Science Fiction and part Alternate History where the invasion of Quintessons and introduction of their technology to Earth in 1920 sets the world and humankind on a completely different trajectory. The active narrative spans a period from 1920 to 2070, covering the First and Second Quintesson Wars, the interplanetary Antillan War (leading to the creation of Unicron on Mars) and the Great War which involves the Autobots, Decepticons and Functionist stalwarts, and how it affects the characters.

The cast is pretty sprawling and the narrative is mostly centred around human drama with bits of humor interspaced and a dash of horror (mostly centred around how the previous government often chose to utilize the technology left behind from the Quintesson Wars to create new systems of oppression, which affected many of the characters, in the name of worldwide rebuilding efforts).

Q) What characters take the lead here? Any personal favorites?

I will admit to this continuity being very much heavy on the relationship between Old Bastards  Optimus Prime and Megatron, which is given considerable weight as they were best friends who had known each other since childhood and were deeply intrinsic to each other’s growths as individuals, which makes it all the worse when guilt and betrayal enter the party. Despite being captains in two corners of this battle, there’s a part of them that just cannot let go of their pasts together and they need to reconcile with how this will affect their agenda (Megatron) and how they lead their team (Optimus) who don’t necessarily share their history.

Other characters with significant development include:

Starscream, a Cold Construct in a toxic working relationship with Megatron with whom he is hiding a dark secret, who struggles to balance the underhanded viciousness he believes he needs to gain power and his innate desire from his Senate days to make the world a better place. 

Windblade, a Camien native who fights her government’s apathy concerning the situation on Earth which they see as unsalvageable compared to their more Utopian society. 

Prowl, a Cold Construct raised from childhood to be a cop in a police state, who finds out that he was brainwashed several times  to ensure his obedience and efficacy as a government asset and is now working to reclaim some semblance of the humanity he was never allowed to feel and figure out how much of him is who he really is and how much is programming.

Hound, a sheltered Beastman who joined the fight to ensure that Beastmen the world over would have the same rights he did in his homeland of Shetland Isle, but is forcefully stripped of his humanity and faced with his animal side during the war and has to relearn what personhood means amid his trauma.

Q) Is there a bigger point to this, like a theme or some catharsis? Or is it just fluffy fun?

God with the amount of time I spent sleepless trying to figure out how the logistics of this or the semantics of that were supposed to work in universe, I cannot for the life of me say it’s fluffy fun, but I can’t exactly say it hasn’t been pretty engaging either!

There’s elements of war being messy for everyone involved where there doesn’t seem to be a clear line between friend and foe at times, but I think for most part it prescribes to  Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s belief that people are inherently good, but are corrupted by the evils of society. Despite its dark themes (Including but not limited to child abuse, torture, illegal experimenation  and brainwashing), love and friendships do prevail, kindness does beget kindness, found families are made, even the smallest actions matter, and things do get better because there are people on both sides who genuinely want to, and strive to make it better.

With Cold Constructs and Beastmen, it also delves heavily into what it means to be human; to have agency and personhood.

There’s also a strong undercurrent of taking responsibility for one’s actions, even if they were made with the best of intentions (Avoidance of this is what eats up Starscream and Megatron from the inside, and what Starscream eventually embraces).

Q) How long have you been working on it?

There’s two answers to this!

I’ve had a Humanformers-related universe going all the way back to 2007 around the time the first Bayformers came out---basically I had a choice between learning to draw cars or draw people (I was an anthro artist back then) and I immediately chose people.

The 2007 draft however had no worldbuilding or connective storylines and was mostly a fun little venture into character design and practice which were actually instrumental to me experimenting and learning how to draw humans properly.

I left the fandom for about a decade and when I came back to it in late 2020 around September via the War for Cybertron series on Netflix, I immediately got hooked on the 2005 IDW comics I missed out on and wanted to get around to updating my old designs as well find a way to translate several of the concepts I wanted to explore in a human sense, so the 2020 update became its own full-fledged original continuity with detailed worldbuilding and history.

You can see the artistic evolution of several characters from their original incarnation below!

Q) It’s incredible to see your artistic improvement too! Give us a behind-the-scenes look! Show us a secret ;))

Say hello to my workspace! I’ve been working exclusively on the Ipad Pro since late 2016, which is fantastic because I can basically whip up concepts and sketches on the go anywhere. Nowhere is too out of bounds to work on TTB!

Also, do enjoy this sneak peek at true!form Rung, whose synthezoid human body took years to perfect.

Q) YESSSSS alright I must admit this is one of my favorite Rungs, and certainly my fave within TTB. Amazing. Phew, anyway. Where did you draw inspiration from? What canons, what other fiction, what parts of real life?

TTB was initially conceived as a faithful retelling of the IDW 2005 narrative before it was transformed into its own continuity and as such, it borrows heavily from concepts and mirrored plot lines introduced in that run! I chose to have the series inspired off it specifically for the amount of history and worldbuilding it introduced to the franchise.

Anime like Gunslinger Girl and Beastars inspired the depictions of Cold Constructs, especially the more harrowing aspects of their upbringing as government assets instead of children, and Beastmen (Beastformers) in TTB.

I haven’t depicted the world itself in my art all too much, but the architecture from Tiger and Bunny, which has sort of a futuristic Art Deco feel to it, is what you’d usually see in major cities. There is an in-universe reason for that---with a Point Of Divergence set in 1920 followed by 25 years (an entire generation) of progress basically being kicked to the curb due to the Quintesson wars, mankind was basically in a time-locked bubble until the end of the wars, and by then their heroes were 1920s-style rebellion leaders, which lead to 1920s fashion (especially among the Manual Working Class---Megatron, Jazz and Optimus all rock 1920s fashion at some point of their lives) and architecture being celebrated and retained as sort of a reminder of how things were before The Invasion. This anime’s background design is also where I adopted the tiered system TTB’s major metropolises are often built on (with each tier being designated to a different working class) from.

The main artistic style itself is a love letter to 90s cartoons, in particular Gargoyles’ deep and drama-driven character narratives and designs as well as The Centurions’ take on body armor logistics.

I also take inspiration, especially armor-wise, from the characters’ given heritage and background. As an example, Hotrod who is depicted as Irish has the flames on his armor done up with Celtic knots. Welsh aristocrat Mirage’s armor bears olden knight-style filigree and has his Autobot logo designed as a coat of arms. Indonesian Soundwave’s armor and Decepticon logo takes cues from Batik and Wayang Kulit while their mask is based off the Barong.

Q) They are absolutely gorgeous! Show off something you're really proud of, a particular favorite part of your cont.

The worldbuilding in general! Most Humanformers I’ve seen tend to treat it like a fun exercise which it is and is definitely valid, but I found myself wanting a full-fledged world to lose myself in and I sought to try and make that world myself by drafting a detailed history and timeline of events which would affect ongoing narratives, having indepth worldbuilding to include almost all societal aspects of the universe and  expanding on the concept of Beastmen and Cold Constructs existing in a human setting.

I’m not so secretly proud of the research and diversity included to make the cast look like the multicultural, globally-based team that they were meant to be instead of being locked to a single region! My original draft from 2007 was, to put it simply, quite culturally monolithic and I wanted to improve on that aspect with TTB.

I’m also proud that I’ve kept to it this far! I’m a notoriously flaky person jumping from one idea/fandom to another and to have kept at this continuity for the better part of ten months is honestly a personal feat.

Art-wise, this scene depicting a young Megatron working alongside Terminus and Impactor (cameo by @weapon-up-wallflower​‘s OC Missit!)  is definitely one of my favorites since it helps build up the world they live in and plays to familial bonds and comfort found in one another despite their less than ideal circumstances.

Q) Everything has come together so beautifully, you absolutely should be proud. What other fan canons do you love and why? Would you like to see them interviewed?

I am dying to hear more from @iscaredspider​’s Sparkpulse continuity! Her designs are MIND-BLOWINGLY GORGEOUS and I want to hear more about what inspired her to work on it!

Also YOU. Yes YOU BLURRITO. LET ME HEAR MORE ABOUT SNAP.

Q) [wails and squirms away in the mortifying ordeal of being known but in a very flattered way] I WILL SOMEDAY I PROMISE aflghsdjg thank you QwQ

Well that was fantastic, Oni, thank you muchly! A magnificent continuity with so much to look forward to! Coming up next is another personal fave of mine, the first inspiration for SNAP, so stick around...

[writing-in-april]

Erotica Explained

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Summary: Spencer discovers his girlfriend’s writing.

A/N: Hey Heyyy- this is my twenty-sixth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! It’s based on this request- and I did end up using a small snippet from one of my other fics! Sorry this ones out late too lol had a very difficult day. Feel free to leave me an ask here (I promise I don’t bite) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Sub!Spencer, Unprotected sex, A little bit of grinding, A little bit of overstimulation, Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count:1.7k

I don’t use technology often, if I can help it I don’t use it at all. But, I had to use it right now, there was something I needed to look up on the computer. It wasn’t for a case or anything, I was just too curious and too impatient to wait to go to the library.

Because I don’t use technology often at all, I didn’t own a personal laptop. The only one I regularly used was the one I was given at work, and that was done begrudgingly. Though I couldn’t use that one right now as I was at my apartment I shared with my girlfriend. My girlfriend however, happened to have a laptop that she wouldn’t mind me using.

When I opened up her laptop, it was already unlocked with a tab already opened. My eyes unintentionally quickly glazed over the page, my eyes widening as I flitted across the page. It was some sort of story, one that contained things that made me blush. At the end of what was visible without scrolling down it read,

His fingers twitched at his side when you blew cool air onto his length, you sneered again, “If you touch me I’ll stop.”

My own trousers started to grow a little tight after reading that, then confusion made its way into my face, wondering what in the world I was reading. I clicked around, not really knowing what I was doing and I fell into a wormhole of reading. It wasn’t until I glanced up to see who owned the documents it all clicked together. They were my girlfriend’s stories.

They were her stories about a slew of characters that already existed in other media, the first one I had read even happened to be about a Star Wars character- Poe to be specific. Once it all clicked together I slammed the computer shut, feeling like I had invaded her privacy. Then I swiftly got into a cold shower, ready to freeze my arousal and wash off my shame.

—-

My foot was tapping even crazier than normal as I sat next to my girlfriend. We had decided on a night in, choosing to order take out and watch a few movies on a rare night off for me. It was her turn to choose, and unsurprisingly she chose Star Wars.

“What’s wrong?” She asked me when I started to basically vibrate when Poe came onto the screen. I couldn’t keep it in any longer, the guilt was eating me alive sitting here while I watched a constant reminder of what I read.

“I’m sorry-“ She was about to open her mouth to probably ask me why I was apologizing, but I steamrolled over it by ranting, “I looked at your writing- the erotica you write. I- I think it’s about already existing characters? Which I hadn’t heard about before-“

She finally did get a chance to cut me off by calling out my name, getting me to stop my nervous rant, “Are you mad- that I umm am writing about someone who’s not you?”

“No! It’s natural to be attracted to different people even while you’re with someone…” I was already falling down into another rant, this time however I caught myself and found the point I had been looking for, “I actually think it’s kind of hot.”

“Oh yeah?” Her eyebrows had shot up almost high enough that they were up into her hairline. I flushed a little at that, feeling vulnerable under her gaze even though I knew she always kept me safe.

“I- um actually was wondering if you could do to me-“ The words died on my tongue when my eyes met hers again, and just by her eyes I could see that she knew what I wanted. She just wanted me to say it out loud.

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“Wh-hat I read- can you umm-?”

She didn’t let me stumble any longer, cutting off my stuttering, “You want me to do the things you read about to you?”

I nodded vigorously, but that wasn’t enough for her. She leaned forward, grabbing my cheeks between two of her fingers, then prompting me, “Use your words.”

I whimpered at that, remembering seeing it in one of her writings. I learned from the character, who had mouthed off in the fanfic, instead breathily answering, “Yes, I want you to use me like you wrote.”

Soon enough my clothes had been taken off by me as I had to follow her command to ‘strip’. She did so as well, then straddling me, starting immediately to grind on my cock. I moved my hands to her hips to try to get her to do something more, but they were quickly pushed off. She then pinned them above my head, leaning forward to whisper into my lips, “No you don’t get to touch unless I tell you too.”

“Yes, Miss!” I gasped out instantly, wanting to be perfect for her.

“Mmmm good boy.”

That made me keen even more, loving the praise she gave me a dash of, I craved her showering it onto me. She kept her course of action, grinding onto my cock until her own arousal completely soaked it. All it would take was for the head of my cock to notch at my entrance, she was so wet I could slip in easily. But, all I could do was wait until she let me have her. I’m sure if I begged she’d only smirk at me, so I kept my mouth shut and took what I was given.

She finally sunk down onto my cock, though it was excruciatingly slow. I tried to fight my instincts, keeping my hips flush with the couch so I wouldn’t get scolded for moving without permission.

When the backs of her thighs finally hit the tips of mine, I groaned unintentionally. She seemed to love it, starting to buck her hips enthusiastically at my response. My hands balled up into fists, knuckles turning white from how hard I was gripping them. It was taking so much to not cum already, her hands pinning me and how beautiful she looked above me making it overwhelming.

“Awww are you already so close? You love getting used like this don’t you?” She goaded once she realized how much I was fighting my release with my squinted eyes.

It took me a minute to find the words, as all my mind could focus on at the moment was how she felt around me. My IQ was completely slashed to 60, but I did eventually get out, “Yes miss”

She sped up her pace at my words, alternating from grinding down into me hard and bouncing vigorously on top of me. When she lent forward to give me a bruising kiss, she swallowed all the noises I was making, until she dipped her head down to mark up my collarbone. It was all too much; I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.

“You’re such a good boy for me Spencer.” She gasped above me, writhing on my cock while she continued to bounce. It was getting so hard to bear, especially with more praise, but I wanted to wait until she came. She looked like a goddess, especially just as she was about to cum, which she soon signaled by saying, “Oh god baby, you’re gonna make me cum!”

All I could do was watch as she removed one hand from where they were wrapped around my own to rub circles into her clit. She tipped her head back, mouth dropped open in a moan, and thighs shaking as her orgasm washed over her. She shook above me for a minute, hips stuttering as she tried to continue the pace she built while her orgasm was ripping through her. Once she had come down from her release she then focused on mine, building the pace back up to be even faster than her original one.

“Go ahead and cum baby boy.” With one more swivel of her hips, I fell off the edge at her command, filling her all the way up with my release. She held my hands up above my head still and still moved her hips while I rode out my high. When she stopped her movements once I whimpered loudly out of overstimulation, she finally let go of my hands.

I let myself relax as she slumped over onto me, resting her head onto my still somewhat heaving chest. With my hands once again free I wrapped my arms around her middle, entrapping her this time.

Looking up I then noticed the movie was still going, completely unobstructed by our actions. It was towards the end of the movie already, telling me how long we had been going at it. Though I didn’t care that I missed it, I got to act out a partial storyline from it, even if it was a made up one. The movie could only hold my attention for so long, there was someone far more interesting with me.

“So are you gonna write some with me?” She giggled out while tracing her fingers up and down my chest, lingering over my sternum. Her proposition was an intriguing one for sure, especially now that she explained some of it to me. Though, I think my writing style is more suited for more of an academic setting.

I snorted a little, giggling a little myself, then brushing my hair out of my eyes so I could see them more clearly. When I tipped her chin up with my fingers and their eyes met mine, they were full of mischief. She was definitely trying to get me riled up again, but I had a quip back of my own, “I don’t think I’d be good at it- but maybe you’ll let me read from now on? I wouldn’t mind editing some as well, it sounds fun.”

Ask Me Anything

——

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All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

[reidgraygubler]

multiply (kyle orfman/reader)

Title: multiply Request: no Couple: Kyle Orfman/Fem!reader Category: angst/smut w/ a taste of fluff Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, mild hatefuck, grinding/groping, heavy petting, light breathplay (hand over mouth and nose) breeding/impregnation kink, fingering), zombies and zombies eating humans, death, descriptions of death, death of a grandparent (grandmother), mentions of guns and gun violence (but none actually happening), petnames (kitten/officer) Word Count: 5,943 Summary: After narrowly escaping her grandmother eating her, Reader is on her own to find other civilization. She meets the Orfman family and they take her in for safety. Reader and Kyle share a special bond. A/N: I am in love with this piece, so I hope you guys love it as much as I do. thank you to @reidetic for beta/editing this for me! this was also written for @imagining-in-the-margins "there was only one bed" trope challenge for june! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

My grandmother was alive… And then she was dead… And now she’s alive again. Which is very confusing because I watched her die. Like I can’t be the only person experiencing this, right? It’s not some weird fever dream either, I don’t think. This has to be a town wide phenomenon.

My grandmother was acting totally normal too. As if she didn’t die. She was living life day to day, making cookies, knitting, and sipping her tea, just like she did before she died. It was like life went back to normal. And then… She tried to eat me. That’s definitely not normal. Is it?

Who eats another person!? Zombies! That’s who! And how do you kill a zombie? I don’t really like that answer. Because I love my grandmother. She’d do nothing to hurt me, except eat me, I guess.

I gotta get out of this house. It’s not safe to stay in the house with her anymore, and it hasn’t been for a long time. So instead of killing her, like any other sane person would do, I just left. I packed my backpack with a few clothes, snacks and water, and I left.

Turns out it was a lot more than a town wide phenomenon. It was country wide. Everyone was experiencing their dead loved ones returning from the dead. Just showing up, like how my grandmother just showed up. It caused something of an uprise, too, considering people don’t just come back to life after being dead, and they’re eating other humans. It wasn’t an uprise. It was terror, pure terror of the people who didn’t die and come back to life.

I hadn’t left my house in a while, at least since my grandmother came back. So I didn’t realize just how dire the situation was. Piles of burnt stuff were all over the place. Cars with shattered windshields were crashed into trees or homes. And the number of bodies just on the street was… incredibly disturbing.

I needed to find any sign of civilization, and quickly. There was no telling just how long I’d make it alone. I probably only had enough water for the next day or two. And the only zombie movies I’ve seen were Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland, and that wasn’t very helpful… Well maybe Zombieland was helpful.

A long branch with a sharp and pointy end was sitting in the middle of the road. I grabbed it, hoping it’d be enough of a weapon to protect me from the disaster around me. I silently hoped, and prayed to whatever God was up there, that I’d find safety before nightfall.

I was beginning to lose hope as the sun started setting; the sky lighting up with the fires around the town. Several people wearing orange jumpsuits came running around the corner, each carrying various weapons in their hands and over their backs. I nearly fell to the ground because of how startled I was. I tried to pay attention to the crowd around me, but the pavement chewed up the palms of my hands.

A guy with a crew cut hairstyle seemingly looked in charge. Weird to have a gangly and scrawny man be in charge of a zombie take out group. He had this weird stature that he held, like he was trying to be intimidating but not everyone took him seriously.

The guy looked right at me and pointed a gun at my head. I slowly lifted my hands and stared at him.

“D-Don’t shoot! I’m human!” I shouted as I stared at him. He stared back, stepping closer to me. He dropped his gun away from me, but still kept his guard up.

“Human my ass!” The guy with the crewcut shouted. I looked at my hands, watching as blood began seeping from my palms. I quickly looked back at him, hoping he’d look at the human blood.

"Thoughts on smooth jazz?!" he asked in a loud tone. I stared up at him, feeling the terror bubble up my throat.

"I-I… Not my first choice in music?" I furrowed my eyebrows, as I wondered what this had to do with anything.

"Thoughts on dirt?!"

"Ew? Good for gardening? I don’t know!” I shouted back before I stumbled to my feet. The guy with the crew cut cautiously stepped closer to me as he examined my face and body. I’d assume it was because he was looking for any impurities I could possibly have. “I almost had to kill my grandmother. But… But I had to leave. I couldn’t do it. So I left. I left because she lunged at me… from across the table,” I mumbled as he stepped back. “I just need somewhere.. To lie low for the time being. I promise I’m safe.” I whispered as I looked at him. The guy looked back at the rest of his team, gauging their thoughts and concerns about letting me go with them.

“You can come with us. But the second you turn your back on us, or turn into them, don't be shocked when I’m the one to put a bullet into your head,” his voice got scary low as he stepped right up to me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Understood,” I whispered as I looked up at him.

I was shoved into the middle of the crowd of orange jumpsuits. The guy with the crewcut took the lead and brought us to a house that was guarded by tall cement and steel fencing. The people who were currently occupying this home knew how to keep themselves safe.

We entered the fenced in yard of the house, the leader making sure everyone got in safely, and no undead beings followed us. Then we entered the house. I was half expecting it to be stripped down, or decayed. But when we got in… It looked like a normal home, just no power, and the windows boarded up.

“Oh! A new person!” A woman exclaimed once I stood in the area that was once a living room. She came right up to my side, looking at me with a bright smile. She was very happy that I was here. “Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” she cooed as she threw her arms around me. I froze, my body refusing to move as she embraced me.

“I-I…” I swallowed roughly as she pulled away from me. I barely had time to say anything else as she pulled us to sit on the couch.

“I’m Judy Orfman. Kyle is my son.” She smiled as she gestured towards the crew cut guy wearing the orange jumpsuit.

“Mom,” Kyle muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I snickered as I looked back at Judy. I smiled softly as I gave her my name. It was weird how homey this place felt, albeit our situation in the world. Part of me wondered if Judy had any part in that.

“My husband, Noah, is out right now. And my other son, Zach, is with one of the women. She also had to kill her grandmother,” Judy whispered that last part. I looked at her with wide eyes, feeling a certain nervousness settle in the pit of my stomach. I could tell she meant well, and I shouldn’t be scared around anyone here. Everything that’s happened is just unsettling. When I woke up this morning I wasn’t expecting to have to escape zombies.

“Is it okay i-if I lie down? I’m just very tired after everything that’s happened.” I I looked between Judy and Kyle.

“Oh! Kyle, honey, you should let her sleep in your room. She obviously needs it,” Judy spoke to her son as she carefully smoothed out my hair. I looked at her with a small smile. I loved how motherly she was. It was definitely something I needed in a time like this.

“I’m not going to do that, Mom.”

“We don’t have any more bed space. You’re the only person with a bed big enough to hold two people. We aren’t going to force her to sleep on the floor or on the couch.”

“I-I don’t have an issue with the flo-”

“Non-sense! Kyle has plenty of space!” Judy clapped her hands together as she glared at Kyle. Kyle looked back at her with wide eyes before dropping his head and mumbling something. Even though Kyle was in charge of the orange jumpsuits, Judy was the head of household. Anyone could argue with her, but she would end up getting her way no matter what. Kyle probably knew better than to fight his mother.

“So it’s agreed then! You guys will share the room!” Judy smiled brightly. “Just no funny business.” She then glared between me and Kyle. I looked at her with wide eyes before shaking my head.

“Ugh! Ew! With him!”

“Her?! Are you serious?”

Even though I basically said what he said, I was still hurt by his utter disgust behind his words. I tried not letting it bother me as I grabbed my backpack and stood up.

“Why don’t you show her around? The bathroom, kitchen, bedroom.” Judy stood up beside me as she looked at her son. Kyle begrudgingly moved towards the opening of the living room, leading off to a new area.

“C’mon,” he grumbled as he looked over at me. I looked at Judy before looking back at Kyle. I dropped my head before dashing up beside him.

Every room he showed, I was met with a new person distraught by the events of the day. Kyle just showed me the room. I didn’t really know what I was expecting when he showed me around the house.

“Finally, this is where I sleep,” Kyle muttered as he gestured towards the closed off bedroom. A small smile grew on my lips as I entered the room, heading right towards the bed. Kyle, however, stopped me by grabbing my backpack and pulling me back to the door. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Judy said I could sleep in here, too. So I figured I should take my side of the bed.” I looked up at him, folding my arms over my chest. A smirk grew across Kyle’s lips before he nodded. At this point we were standing toe-to-toe, and our chests were practically pressed together.

“You’re adorable,” he muttered before pulling my backpack off my back and tossing it to the left side of the bed. “If I find out you’re cuddling with me, you’re outta here. And if I see you going through my shit… You’re dead.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” I whispered before looking away from him. I walked away from him and towards the bed. Even though I wasn’t facing him, I could feel Kyle’s eyes on me as I went through my bag. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me? Or are you going to let me sleep peacefully?” I asked as I dropped my shoulders and the things I was holding.

“Until I know you won’t fuck around with stuff you’re not supposed to…” He spoke out loud. I rolled my eyes before turning to face him.

“Do you want me to just mess with your stuff while you’re here?” I asked as I walked back around to his side of the bed. Kyle’s eyes widened and his jaw steeled as I went to his night stand. “Or will you leave me alone so I can get some rest?”

“I’ll leave you alone the second you back away from that nightstand.” His words were quick and sharp as he spoke. A small smirk grew across my lips as I looked back at him. I stepped away from the night stand and stood in the middle of the room. “I’ll come back in an hour,” he muttered before leaving the room.

With a deep sigh, I returned to my side of the room, finally getting ready to lie down for the first time in what feels like days.

{***}{***}{***}

I don’t think time exists anymore. Ever since the world went to shit, it feels like days felt longer than 24 hours. So it was hard to say how long I’d been in this safe house. I wished time was still relevant...

I try not to let things bother me. But I feel like it’s especially hard in this house with all of these people I hardly know. It was even harder because I was still sharing a room with Kyle. And he is probably the worst person I’ve ever met. He talks in his sleep. But he wouldn’t own up to that. Noooo, he’s too good for that.

The first night I realized he was talking in his sleep wasn’t too bad, mostly because it was him talking about stuff that happened before before a stupid zombie apocolyspe. But now it’s just annoying shit. I never get a moment alone anymore.

For a moment of privacy, I sat in the closet. It was just for a moment before the doors swung open and a woman my age sat down beside me.

“Zach wants to go to a stupid graveyard today,” Erica muttered as she sat down. I looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “He wants to visit Beth’s stupid grave.”

“Beth’s his ex-girlfriend, right?” I asked, still unsure of who people were here. She nodded as she began picking at the loose threads on her pants. “You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, Erica.”

“Okay, but when the dead start trying to kill me, then I’m going to talk ill of the dead.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” I muttered as I looked at the floor in front of us. “It’s still not really safe to do that… Little weird.” I glanced back at Erica with a raised brow. She looked back at me and grimaced. I had nothing else to say, granted conversations between us didn’t last too long. We had nothing in common other than our grandmothers tried eating us, therefore we had to kill them. So what was the use of us talking? I knew a friendship would never grow between us.

With a resigned sigh, I stood up, leaving Erica in the closet alone. I ignored her bothersome questions as I walked away from her. I didn’t want to be around her, or really anyone. So I went to the safest place I could think of, hoping no one else would be there, my shared bedroom with Kyle.

Of course, it’d just be my luck that Kyle would also be there. He was sitting at his desk, wearing nothing by his boxers while he cleaned his gun. I just didn’t realize that till I had fully entered the room.

“What the fuck!? What are you doing?! Don’t you knock!?” he shouted as I entered the room more. I turned and looked at him, my eyes wide as I stared at him. “S-Stop staring! Are you crazy!?”

“Me crazy!? You’re the one cleaning your gun half naked!” I shouted as I gestured at his attire. I quickly threw a hand over my eyes as I blindly searched for the bed.

“It's how I relax!” He shouted back. Once my body finally touched the bed, I laid back, quickly throwing a pillow over my face. “Can you leave?”

“How come you get to relax but I don’t? Roommates remember?” I sat up and glared at him. He glared back at me, keeping his hands on his gun.

“It’s so funny to me that you were going to be a police officer?” I scoffed as I laid back. That seemed to strike a chord in him, causing him to stand and look at him.

“What? I didn’t tell-”

“You talk in your sleep,

“No I don’t, Kitten,” Kyle retorted. I stared at him for a moment, trying to comprehend what he just called me. Kitten? Really? Seriously? “If anyone talks in their sleep, it’s you.” He pointed at me. I smirked and shrugged.

“If you say so… Officer.” I grinned before reaching up to shut the lamp off. Kyle stayed sitting in the darkness. I could only imagine his face was beet red, and his knuckles were white as a ghost as he held his gun.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Kyle’s voice came through the mild darkness. I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me.

“Taking a nap, Officer, because it’s how I relax.”

{***}{***}{***}

It had to have been the middle of the night. I couldn’t be too sure. I just knew it was late at night, and Kyle’s whole entire body was clinging to mine as he talked.

“Someone’s gotta repopulate the world… Why… Why don’t you do it with me?” Kyle mumbled into my chest. I stiffened as his hands drifted all over my body. “You’re like the only feasible person to do it with.”

“Okay, first off, rude,” I muttered as I shoved his body off mine. It was impossible to keep him off me though, because the moment his body was away from mine, he knew, and instantly wrapped his arms back around me ten times harder than before. “Secondly, haven’t you heard of personal space,” I groaned as I laid perfectly still on my back. I finally just gave in and let him keep his arms around me. No use in fighting that.

“C’mon, Kitten,” he mused as he nuzzled his head into my chest more. I widened my eyes and looked down at him. “We’d make some pretty cute kids.”

I hate this so fucking much. And there was no way I was getting out of this. I just wish this was when I knew the weird sex dreams started...

{***}{***}{***}

I laid perfectly still on the bed. The lights were off, and Kyle was perfectly asleep. I was envious of his sleep. The last time I had a peaceful night of rest was ages ago. The nightmares I had were awful, keeping me awake till dawn. But also, Kyle also talked in his sleep and always clung to me like his life depended on it.

I’d be lying if I said Kyle and I hadn’t gotten close. Even though part of me still hated him, the other part of me knew that he was probably the last person I had to be friends with, other than his mother and Erica.

With a deep groan, I shoved Kyle awake, nearly pushing him to the floor.

“What the hell was that for!?” he shouted from his spot on the ground beside the bed.

“You know when you talk in your sleep…” I spoke aloud. I kept my eyes on him as he glared at me.

“No I don’t,”

“You sure about that, Officer. How else would I know you wanted to be a cop?” I scoffed as I stood up off the bed. Kyle watched as I walked around the bed and stood at the foot of it.

“You… You read through my personal belongings.” He shot back as he stood to his feet.

“Y-You have a diary,” I stifled my laughter as I looked at him. Kyle glared at me again. “No, I only know that because you talk in your sleep. And at first it didn’t bother me too much because it was cute shit like being a police officer, or having a family and kids, and cute shit… But now… For the last week, Kyle, you have been having sex dreams. And I wake up to you clinging to me…” I lifted an accusing finger as I spoke. Kyle looked at me, waiting for me to continue my rant. Which was rather surprising because he hardly lets people finish their thoughts or rants before he interprets them. “Do you know how weird that is?! Having sex dreams about someone who’s just sleeping next to you?” I stared at him for a moment, trying to understand if he was going to say anything. “Whatever, I’m going to help Judy.” I scoffed before turning to leave the room.

“With what? It’s midnight!” He gestured to the dark window. Yeah, that was true. Judy was probably asleep. I just needed to get out of the room and let my frustrations be out instead of held in.

“With something!” I shouted at him.

“Kitten, wait,” Kyle started before grabbing my wrist and pulling me to face him. I spun around on my toes and looked right at him. I couldn’t help but feel annoyance grow on my face as I stared.

“Why do you call me that!?” I shouted at him. Kyle stayed silent as he stared up at me. I could see a certain confusion grow on his face as he tried to connect the dots to my question. “Kitten! Why do you call me that?! You’ve called me that since I got here.”

“Well… I…” Kyle paused for a moment. I watched as his mouth opened and closed a few times, and his jaw clenching momentarily. I stared at him, as he sat in thought for a very long time.

“Whatever,” I scoffed as I turned to leave again.

“Because you’re attractive…” He finally spoke after an eternity of silence. He looked up at me with a stilled face. “Because I’d fuck you,” he stated truthfully. I blinked, taking a step back before I stared at him.

“That’s a bit of a raunchy way to say you want to sleep with me.” I folded my arms over my chest. Kyle smirked before shrugging. “I’ve been sleeping with you for the last month.”

“You-You know what I meant,” he muttered as he approached me again. I stopped right in front of me, our toes just barely touching. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want to have sex with me?”

“You… You want to have sex… During the end of the world. Bit cliche don’t you think?” I was still taken aback that he just asked that. I’m still stuck in the argument we had less than 10 minutes ago. And now he wants to have sex with me?

“Well I wouldn’t say that it’s the end of the world. But that’s essentially what I’m saying… Yeah, I wanna have sex with you, during the end of the world.” Kyle shrugged as he looked at me.

“If you say so… Officer,” I whispered with a shrug. Kyle looked at me, his jaw stealing at my words. “Someone’s gotta repopulate the world.” I smirked at him. I could tell my words did something to him. It was obvious that he did indeed want someone to repopulate with. And I was the winner of that contest. Not that I’m complaining.

“Don’t… Don’t call me that,” he warned as he cornered me between his body and the bed. I took a deep breath as I looked at him, feeling my heart rate pick up in my chest. He still made it possible for me to escape if I wanted to. But, at this point, who says I wanted to escape?

“Why? D-Does it do something to you, Officer?” I whispered as I lifted my hands to his shirt. A small smirk grew across his lips as I smoothed out the wrinkleiness of the fabric against his torso. I could feel the semi toneness of his chest through the light fabric.

“You tell me yourself, Kitten,” he muttered before pressing his hips into mine. My breath was instantly knocked from my lungs as his bulge pressed into my legs. “Tell me now… If you want to stop…” he half growled into my mouth. I quickly shook my head as he pressed his groin into me more.

“P-Please,” I whispered before I pulled my lips between my teeth.

“Please what, Kitten?”

“Don’t stop,” I whimpered into his mouth. He looked down at me, a pleased smirk growing on his lips before he quickly pressed his mouth along my face and then down my jaw. It was impossible to stay down on earth the moment he began leaving little bites across my neck. A soft whimper fell from my lips as he pushed me back down on the bed.

“We gotta be quiet… My parents are in the next room over. Don’t want them hearing us,” he whispered into my ear as he quickly threw a hand over my mouth. I took a deep breath before he pressed his thumb over my nose. “You think you can do that for me, Kitten?” He kept his voice low, almost a growl as he spoke. With his other hand, he carefully pushed past my pajamas and cupped my pussy.

I wanted to nod, but I knew the nod would mean nothing the second I whimpered again. Kyle smirked as he slowly moved his fingers over my clothed sex. I don’t think I’d be able to be quiet...

It just got harder to stay quiet the second he started stroking my clit over my panties. He knew exactly what he was doing. Driving me nuts, that’s what. He could’ve gone slower, and I would’ve hated him for it… Or loved him. At this point they were both interchangeable.

I bit down so hard on my lips I was sure they’d bleed as he moved my underwear to the side. My lungs slowly grew a blaze, feeling a certain tightness in my chest as he slowly moved a finger between my folds, slowly pressing it into my entrance. A dark smirk grew across his lips as he withdrew his hand.

“I didn’t know a kitten could get so wet,” Kyle mused as looked at his glistening fingers. He quickly glanced at me, his smirk growing daker by the second. Then he carefully stuck his fingers between his lips, sucking on them for a brief moment. A soft whimper came from me, causing him to laugh. “She tastes good, too,” he hummed.

Kyle carefully dragged his hand down my side, tracing over my waist and hips, before diving back into my pants and underwear. He knew exactly what he was doing, on purposely making me make noises. Because the second he started stroking over my clit, I couldn’t stop any sound that came from my mouth, even with his hand over it.

“This is already better than any dream I had, Kitten,” he murmured in my ear. I swallowed roughly and nodded. He smirked as he gently pushed a finger into me, quickly followed by a second. “If you’re quiet I’ll move my hand.”

I hummed as I closed my eyes, my head lolling to the side. Kyle dragged his hand from my mouth, sliding it down to my chest. My lips stayed between my teeth, forcing myself to be quiet as he started massaging my breasts.

“D-Don’t stop, whatever you do… Please k-keep going,” I struggled to say as his movements hastened. His thumb carefully brushed against my clit, causing me to push my head back into the bed beneath me.

“You like this, don’t you?” Kyle laughed lightly. I could feel my chest lifting away from the bed the heavier my breath grew. “How long has it been since you’ve been touched like this? Since you’ve been used?”

“Kyle, Kyle, please,” I bit down on my lower lip. I brought one of my hands to rest over my mouth, while the other held his arm.

“I’d call you a desperate, but I’m the one having sex dreams of you.”

The funny thing is… I was desperate. Even though he was the one having the sex dreams, I was the one having the thoughts when I was awake. And a lot of the thoughts were hoping this would happen. Guess we’re bothing having dreams coming true.

It was only a matter of moments before I was finishing over his hand. My eyes stayed closed as I tried catching up with time. And in the few moments I had, Kyle had climbed off the bed and quickly undressed, leaving me still in my pajamas. I didn’t feel rushed, but I hated that I was still wearing clothes.

Once I had my moment of recollection, I sat up, peeling my shirt off and kicking my pants to the floor. I was too busy undressing to even notice that Kyle was staring at me, watching my quickness and excitement. But when I finally did sit back and look at him, he was watching me with a smirk on his lips.

I tried not to let my eyes linger on his body for too long. When I noticed his hard length, I couldn’t help but stare. Then he laughed, forcing me to look up at his face and swallow roughly.

“No, please, keep staring,” he muttered with a smirk. I slowly blinked before shaking my head, silently lifting my hand to him. I could feel my sudden neediness radiating off my body, surely Kyle could sense it from where he was standing.

When he didn’t move, I slowly moved my legs apart, making it so there was space for him to kneel comfortably. He smirked again before crawling onto the bed, coming right up to my face.

“Tell me, Kitten, how badly do you want this,” he whispered against my lips. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. “Use your words. I trust you know how. You were pretty vocal a few moments ago.”

“I don’t think you understand, Officer, how bad I need you,” I murmured as I looked up at him. The corner of his lips twitched at the nickname I had so lovingly given him. “Only you can help me.”

“Damn right I am,” he muttered before roughly pressing his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck as he moved so his length was pressing against me. My breathing stuttered slightly before I began gasping for air as he very slowly entered me.

Once he was fully sheathed in me, Kyle knelt straight up. I stared at him, watching as he hooked his arms under my knees. With that, he managed to press deeper into me, inciting a moan from me.

“More,” I tried to whisper as I looked up at him. His eyes locked with mine for a moment before rolling his hips into mine. He fell into a steady rhythm, hitting the right spots at just the right times.

Any conversation between us ceased to exist, leaving us with struggling moans and gasps for breath. My hands ran over my body, trying to relieve myself of something.

Kyle dropped one of my legs, bringing his hand to between my legs. My head fell back before rolling to rest against my shoulder, feeling the eventual relief in my abdomen.

“You feel so good, Kitten,” Kyle mumbled before dropping my other leg and coming back down to my face. I huffed out a breath of air before lifting a hand to his head. “Better than anything I could ever imagine,” he added before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed, pushing my fingers through his hair.

“I’m gon-gonna cum,” I whined before biting my teeth into his shoulder. Kyle ran his hands up my back before pulling me close.

“Yeah?” he groaned into my ear. I nodded as my breathing grew ragged. “Me too,” he added as his movements grew faulty. He pressed his forehead to mine, his heavy breath fanning across my skin. My eyes stayed glued to his.

“Do it, please do it,” I whimpered. Kyle’s eyes grew darker the moment the heaviness of my words hit him. I don’t think I was supposed to notice his brief pause, but I did. “I’m serious.”

“You know what-”

“God, Kyle, I know. I know what it’ll mean,” I cut him off, lifting my back up into his body. He looked at me for a brief moment before capturing my lips in a gentle kiss. I threw my arms around his neck, holding him close to me.

“If that’s what you want,” he moaned, his movements turning sloppy. I knew I wasn’t about to last long. “Someone’s gotta have my kid.”

“Let it be me then,” I cried out. My legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him in place. “Please.” My whole body tensed around his as my head fell back as I tried to keep quiet. Kyle looked down at me before putting his hand over my mouth. Then a warmth- that I didn’t realize that I missed- grew in my stomach.

Kyle fell, laying against my body. With that, we fell into silence. The only sound was our heavy breathing and the sounds of crickets outside. The silence was nice though.

“My mother better not find out about this,” Kyle said after an eternity. I laughed and shook my head.

“Then you better hope I don’t end up pregnant, because she’ll find out eventually,” I sighed deeply as I brought my hands to hold the back of his head. His body stiffened before he lifted his head to look down at me.

“I’ll tell her in the morning.”

“Well you don’t have to do that,” I laughed. He stared at me for a moment. “You tell her she’ll probably break us apart. And, well, like I said earlier… Someone’s gotta repopulate the world.”

“No, yeah, you’re right. She’d probably kill me if she found out we’re having sex,” he stated before trying to move away from me. “Actually I think she’d kill me then pray I come back to life for that kid.”

“I’m not living through someone trying to eat me twice.”

“I can change that,” he teased with a smile. I stared at him once I realized what he meant.

“Tomorrow night please. I’m so tired.”

“If you say so,” Kyle laughed before slipping out of the bed.

Some months after the apocalypse ended

“You look mighty dashing in that uniform, Officer.” I looked at Kyle as I smoothed out the few wrinkles in his shirt. I tried my hardest to hold the young boy in my arms the moment he became fussy.

“Don’t start that now. I can’t be late,” Kyle warned as he looked back at me. I smiled and shrugged.

I looked up at Kyle with a soft smile on my lips. Although our son was young, he tried to blindly reach out for his father, but failed as he was just out of the child’s reach. “Be safe out there,” I whispered before pressing my lips to his.

“Of course I will.”

“Good, because your little man will be pissed if he finds out you’re not coming home.” I smiled before kissing him again. “But I think I’ll be even more pissed than your kid.”

“Please. I’ll come home in one piece, with no bites.”

“You better, Officer.” I smirked again.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Kyle scoffed before rolling his eyes. I smiled and nodded.

“Good luck out there. Judy’s making dinner so be home in a timely manner.”

“Okay, for real, I gotta go. See you later, Little Man.” Kyle smiled as he rubbed the top of his son’s head. I smiled before puckering my lips. “And I’ll be home before you know it.” He quickly pecked my lips. “Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. See ya later.” I swung our son over to my other hip, resting him gently on my hip. I turned around and slowly walked back up to our home.

“It’s not too soon for another one, is it?!” He shouted from the end of the driveway. I turned and looked at him as I made it to the front door.

“If anything, we can practice!”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist: @thebluetint @muffin-cup @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @spencersmagic  @spenciegoob @flipperpenguins @broken-stardust​