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n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months

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need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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redgoldsparks · 11 months

Text

I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood.

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life.

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!"

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why?

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined.

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks."

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017)

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot:

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism

*The government cannot be trusted

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper?

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

#harry potter #harry potter and the problematic author #jk rowling #transphobia #jk rowling transphobic

3K notes · View notes

harryspet · 9 months

Text

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm.

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them.

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth.

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana.

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?”

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him.

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face.

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you.

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .”

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you.

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.”

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow.

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared.

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been.

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?”

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.”

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind.

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill.

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping.

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.”

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible.

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ.

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it.

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body.

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor.

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words.

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack?

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him.

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear, standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.”

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way.

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made.

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes, but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going.

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked.

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more.

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered.

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples.

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again.

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly.

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying.

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together.

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile.

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded.

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it.

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own.

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes.

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her.

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic.

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head.

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock.

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away.

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle.

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.”

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #jj maybank #kiara carrera

2K notes · View notes

saekkas · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.

notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike

"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"

at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.

it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.

fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.

"dad says he likes both!"

you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.

"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"

"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"

he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.

"and then we-"

"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.

rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.

keyword: trying.

"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"

rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."

"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."

"uncle sae can wait, i can't."

sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.

they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.

you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.

"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"

"she's my wife, you little squirt."

you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.

"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"

"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.

you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"

you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"

you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.

"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"

"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.

your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."

rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.

sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.

"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."

rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.

"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"

"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."

he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.

he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.

and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.

"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"we shall."

he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin imagines #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x you #rin fluff

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lady-buggerinton · 4 months

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My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)

My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?

5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal

Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.

This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)

He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!

I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)

Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.

And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.

I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.

Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.

Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.

Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.

Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.

I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.

It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.

We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)

4. Market Scene

ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.

SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.

If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!

There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.

I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.

"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.

Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.

She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.

Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.

When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!

3. Candy Tent

Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!

Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.

Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"

The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!

I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.

Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.

He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.

Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.

His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.

I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.

Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.

Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!

2. First kiss/Dream Sequence

Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.

This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?

The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.

This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!

then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!

What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.

Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.

THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.

This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!

Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.

1. Carriage Scene

Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.

And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.

How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.

Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)

He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.

The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.

on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.

Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....

Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.

Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3

#polin #analysis #bridgerton #long post #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #season 3 #spoilers #carriage scene #first kiss #romance

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hyunjinsjeans · 2 months

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He knows (Chan ver.)

Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Chan is your husband and he knows you want to start a family, but how does he know? And what happens when he tells you he knows? This. This is what happens.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 1140

AN: this is my first piece of writing for anything K-pop-related on this site, please be kind! No proofreading, sorry!

You are married to this man. He defines himself by his job. He lived for it though, after working so hard to get to where he is he also enjoys it so much. So you can’t complain. But he does have one more thing he wants on his instagram bio. So far he is producer, singer, rapper and dancer. As of a year ago he is also husband. He knows the time is right. He knows you don’t want to pressure him but whenever you’re together he can sense the unspoken words flying around in the air between the two of you.

Oh yes, Chan knows. He knows how to read people, and you are top of the list of his favorite ones. He will read you like a book. He will understand even the things you don’t say, he will know the second you are ready. He will, however, wait for the right moment. Sometime when he knows he will have the energy, the free time and the emotional availability to do it.

He owes you his full attention if you are doing this together.

And once he seizes the opportunity he is going in for the kill. He proposes it in a serious tone. If it asn’t just the two of you, it would seem you were having a “family meeting”. He is straightforward about it.

“We should have a kid, Y/N. I think it’s time, I’m ready and you’re ready.”

And the words get caught in your throat because what the hell? You were incredibly ready. He knew this, you knew this. Your friends probably knew this.

From the way you cooed at any and every child under 5 whenever you spotted one, how little kids gravitated toward you at the park or at the movies and you always had a kind smile to offer them along with the helping hand finding their parents, to the way you seemed to constantly be handed strangers' babies at the grocery store or at airport lines.

It was no news. You always loved kids and after getting married and moving to your own home, you made it a point to have a guest room and an empty room. Chan had noticed. Why leave a room completely empty? “Just in case we need it someday” you had shrugged when he asked. But it was painfully obvious a few months into the move that you visited that room and stared at the empty walls with bright shiny eyes, with a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips in a way so subtle it was almost imperceptible, you always left the room with a sigh and a bowed head as if ashamed to have the plans you had for that room. Chan had witnessed it enough times to have you figured out. It brought a warmth to his heart, seeing how eager you were about the subject and yet you kept quiet because you didn't want to put any pressure on him, thinking he already had a lot to deal with as the leader of a very successful group.

So of course, the second he said those words you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh I was waiting for you to be ready!”

Chan lets out a joyful laugh, his eyes become tiny as his cheeks grow puffy with the glee in his reaction.

“I know!” He exhales, “but you didn’t say anything and I’m tired of it. When you want something -anything, please just tell me!” His expression softened "I'll always have time to listen to you, and there's nothing you can ask of me that I wouldn't give you."

He is leaning on the kitchen table while you’re sitting opposite him. You push yourself back on your chair and look at him with a side smile on your face, the rice cooker making its beeping sound to signal dinner is ready.

“How am I supposed to drop that one on you?!” You laugh as well, it’s clear you are not really arguing “Am I supposed to say “hey Chan, I want a baby” or what?”

“Well… yeah.” He scratches at his neck, “that’s okay, it’s a good way to start talking about it.”

You huff and look away, but ultimately you are pretty happy he brought it up. He knows this as well; there is no hiding your enthusiasm, you're practically buzzing.

“I do want to have a baby, Chan” you lean forward on the table, your elbows on the hard surface while you hide your smile behind your hands.

Chan sighs, stilling his laughter as he pulls the chair back to take a seat and stare at you. He poses his arms and hands the same as yours, mirroring your actions.

“I want that too”, he mumbles, shy but true.

“Can we have that?” You wonder, your eyes falling on his hands, soft yet strong.

Chan has held you many times, and supported you through different times. You know he can be a perfect constant to hold on to, but you wonder if his career can take this. If he can be there for you for this. Because if you are honest, your biggest fear is that he will put too much pressure on himself if he tries to be a leader and a good partner to a pregnant wife at the same time. You have always known him to be the kind of guy to step up without anyone asking him to. You have learned from him to be the same, to grow stronger for Chan to have someone to support him as well...but this time you have to be realistic, how much can you share the weight of things once you are also worried about the safety of a baby? How much stress can you take from him while getting ready to have a kid.

He drops his hands on the table, you have moved your gaze from his eyes to his hands to the table. You are doubtful, you are pulling away from him as you speak.

“We can.” He assures you, reaching out to pull your hands in his. “We can do this.”

Chan brings you back with his words, his tone is honest and bright. His eyes are full of joy and excitement.

You feel the warmth of his skin on your skin and look up with hope, your trust in him is so complete you nod, you don’t even think about it as you reply. You would die for your husband. You would take all the pain, all the responsibility, and hardships for him. And so would he for you. This is why doubting what you two can accomplish together is ridiculous, you shake your head from all those doubts and squeeze his hands between your own.

“Let’s do this.” You whisper.

--------

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz imagines #skz x you #skz x reader #skz x y/n #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #female reader

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elfwreck · 5 months

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I have a friend who isn't anti-porn but it makes her sad that fanfic has a reputation for being porny and usually not very good. I'm fine with both those things and my views mostly align with that of AO3. I disagree with the idea that porn and badness are treated as equivalent, but for most people that's just how they think. But I was wondering if youve ever written something about this?

There is a lot of smut at AO3.

There is a lot of bad writing at AO3.

There's a lot of badly written smut at AO3.

...None of those are problems except for the people who think there is something wrong with those existing, or that there needs to be some external value that "balances" those that make those acceptable to exist as unwanted side-effects of "the good stuff."

The badly-written smut is also "the good stuff."

It's part of the reason AO3 exists. It's not intended to be an archive for "the high-quality fanfic that could be published if it weren't about characters that someone else wrote first"; it's an archive for "what fanfic writers want to write." That makes the terrible writing and the tacky porn and the badly-written tacky porn part of the reason the archive exists.

Tangent 1 (I'll connect these points later): Theodore Sturgeon said "90% of everything is crud." He was more-or-less referring to the science fiction field in the 50s, but it definitely extended to politics, business, and writing outside of science fiction.

...He was talking about published books in the 50s. Turns out, a lot more than 90% of writing is crud when there aren't any gatekeepers between it and the readers. But also:

Tangent 2, from the book "Art and Fear":

[A] ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”. Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work – and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.

You don't get to "quality writing" without going through a lot of crappy writing.

That doesn't mean the crappy writing is garbage to be thrown out. If you make 50 pots or bowls or vases, and only one of them is The Good One... most of the rest are okay. Maybe not sale-quality good, but your-kitchen-table quality good. Maybe some aren't that good and are kids-toy-in-the-sandbox level good.

Bad writing has a purpose for the writer: they can use it as practice to get better. It has a purpose for the reader: It can serve as inspiration ("I can do better than that") or grammatical instruction ("that...does not work; why doesn't that work?") or just as entertainment ("eh, so it's missing a few commas; I can still understand it").

Smut and porn writing works the same way. It's of some value to the writer, and some to the readers.

It's not of value to everyone. That's what tags and filters are for, and why there's a summary and list of stats (like word counts)--so you can figure out if you're one of the readers for whom this piece of writing is useful or interesting.

But AO3, like any library, is not there to take the top 5% of Excellent Writing and provide it a showcase. It is absolutely for all 50 lbs of pots.

If your friend wants to read the good stuff, there are rec lists and collections to help her find it.

If she already manages that, and is just annoyed at how much of the not-good stuff (however she defines that) exists... she's picked the wrong battle. She's arguing with the ocean that it has too many kinds of fish and some are poisonous a lot of them are ugly.

#Anonymous #ao3

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lovifie · 6 months

Text

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 11: Gaz’s Date

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Gaz x Reader, jealous Gaz, the tiniest bit of toxic Gaz, degradation, spanking, rough sex.

A ruckus at the door brings you out of the book you were reading, a mischievous laugh on the other side of the door and when it finally opens you can't help but mimic Gaz's wide smile as he runs to you. He holds your face kissing you before asking: “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow?”

There is an urge to the way he asks, making you want to say no just to tease him; but it's been days since you left the house so you quickly nod. He kisses you again, pulling the book off your hands and laying it down on the table (open, so you don't lose the page).

He softly pushes you back with the kiss, making you lie down on the sofa with him on top of you. You still wonder why he was in such a rush, and it gets answered when Soap enters the house panting and calling your name.

“I'm here, Johnny.” You say, waving your hand so he can see you from the door. His face lights up for the second it takes him to see Gaz is already lying on top of you, looking up at him with a shit-eating grin.

“Too slow, Johnny.” Gaz teases. “My date and I are already set.”

“Oh, away n' bile yer heid!” The scotsman complains, but still lays down on top of the two of you making you groan. You can tell Gaz is using his strength to take some of Soap's weight off of you, because you know damn well that if you had to lie under the two brick houses you would pop a lung.

You chuckle at Soap's dramatism, looking at Gaz. “What are you not telling me, you little shit?” He looks at you with a boyish smile on his face, mischief clear on his eyes, not even bothering to play it as innocent.

“There is this military gala that Price is making all of us attend.” He explains. “And now you are attending too.”

“Wait.” You say, reality is settling in. You slip from under him, sitting up and Gaz pushes Soap off of him making him fall on the floor; both of them sitting up on their new locations. “A military gala? Like… meeting your bosses and all of that? And like… what I'm supposed to do there? I don't-”

“Well technically…” Gaz cuts you off. “Price is our boss. And those that are over him usually leave really early, we go mostly to see old colleagues and get drunk. And you are attending… as my girl.”

“Our girl.” Soap quickly chimes in, correcting Gaz.

“Uh uhh” Gaz answers, shaking his finger. “My date, my girl. You already got yours.”

Gaz pulls you, sitting you on his lap as a petulant child who has been asked to share a toy.

“Oi, Garrick, don't make me beat yer arse.” Soap argues, but quiets down when you move his head to rest on your lap.

“But then… you are introducing me to your… friends?” You ask, anxiousness setting on your stomach. “Are you sure about it?”

Gaz furrows his eyebrow at your question. “Are you asking if I'm sure about letting my friends know about you?”

You look from Gaz to Soap, both with the same confused expression. “Bonnie, if I could I'll keep ye in my pocket just so I could show ye to every single person I come across.”

“Exactly, like…” Gaz looks at you confused. “I think you keep forgetting that we are obsessed with you, birdie.” He chuckles.

He hugs you, kissing your cheekbone. “I want to introduce you to everyone I know, birdie. You are somebody to drag about.”

His words help to ease the thoughts inside your brain, finally letting your anxiety travel to other important matters.

You gasp. “The dress John bought me is still at base…”

“Ye aren't wearing the same dress again.” Soap chimes in. “Ghost and Price are buying ye another one.”

“They are shopping together?” You ask, confused.

“Laswell is probably with them too, so don't worry, I'll be pretty.” Gaz explains, as if you know who the fuck Laswell is.

It is already nighttime when you leave the house, hand on hand with Gaz. Feeling the prettiest girl at the world with the constant compliments for the four men.

Once inside the venue, Gaz’s hand doesn't lift from your back. Always guiding you, introducing you to people and pulling you away from others that, according to him: “is not worth even knowing their names.”

Making sure to enunciate the “She's my partner” to anyone who asks, it was spoken before, that this was not the place to explain to everyone how the poly relationship worked to the old military men who were struggling to look up to your face and not stare at your chest.

It doesn't make the other three men complain any less, Price going “Garrick” whenever the sergeant becomes a little too enthusiastic about you and him. There are a couple of people that Ghost tells you, know about their arrangements. Not the tiny details, but enough to know that there is something between the four of them and that if you are involved with Gaz, you are involved with the rest.

One of those people, is Alex Keller. Whom Gaz is really excited to introduce you to, and who ends up sitting at the same table as you.

It is a round table, wide enough not to be able to reach Ghost's feet that is sitting right in front of you as you sit between Soap and Gaz. Gaz is also sitting next to Alex, and as the night goes on he slowly turns more and more towards him, giving you his back.

You turn to Soap, pout on your face. “I think my date is on a date with somebody else.” You know it is unfair, they haven't seen each other in years and are just catching up; still, you are glad Soap is next to you or else you'll feel quite alone.

“Ye can always make out with me.” Soap proposes, making you chuckle. “But I think I have an even better idea.”

Now, you know both sergeants are little mischievous shits; but the smile on Soap's face still makes you rethink on how much trouble you are going to get yourself into.

“Have any of us told ye that Gaz is a really jealous man?” Soap asks, leaning into your chair and resting his arm on the backrest of it. “Like, really jealous.”

“Gaz?” You ask, quite shocked that the so-sure-of-himself man is the jealous man out of the four.

Soap nods, smiling still. “When we started, Gaz and I were the ones that mixed the pairs, to say it simply. And Gaz knew Ghost and I were already messing with each other, still, at the beginning whenever I'd kiss Ghost, Gaz would turn his head. I promised ye, if I hadn't seen him suck my dick I'd guess he was homophobic.”

His choice of words as you cover your mouth so Gaz can't hear you laugh, leaning more onto Soap's side. “That's why he pulled me away from you on the sofa?” You ask and Soap quickly nods, a smile on his face.

“Especially ye, since you are the last addition. The three of us have been reassuring him that we love him to bits for years now, but ye still have a long road to go, bonnie.” He says, starting to look around looking for somebody. “And I think I have an idea of how to show ye.”

He waves at somebody behind you after a second, urging them to come closer. You look behind, seeing a tan man approach with a smirk on his face.

“Soap, hermano, long time no see” He says, clapping hands with Soap. “What have you been up to?”

“Alejandro, let me introduce ye to Birdie.” He says, before saying your actual name and repeating Alejandro's name to you. He shakes your hand, making you smile at the formalities and he winks at you, satisfied with making you smile. “And actually, I think she can use some of yer help.” He signals the man to bend down to whisper to him. “How do ye feel about messing with Gaz a bit?”

“Let me guess, if I say yes I get to flirt with the pretty lady?” He asks, whispering as well and laughing when Soap nods. “A huevo, hermano. I'm in.”

He pulls an empty chair from a close by table, Soap pulls your chair and Alejandro sits between you and Gaz. Who has yet to notice the treachery taking place behind him.

It is easy to forget that you are doing this to get a raise out of Gaz, especially with how funny the conversation gets between Alejandro and Soap. Telling you about Soap's absolute lack of ability to learn Spanish, and how it almost got him into problems when he accidentally asked for a male prostitute instead of a cigar, when he kept getting the words puro and puto mixed up.

You are laughing out loud, almost crying for it, not just you, the three of you. Alejandro is rocking back and forth on his chair, and his hand lands on your thigh, innocent enough that it doesn't even make you uncomfortable. But not innocent enough for Gaz, who has been side-eyeing the three of you for a bit now, Alex chuckling when he noticed he had stopped listening to him.

The moment Alejandro's hand lands on you, he springs into action, standing up and walking behind you. “Birdie. Can I talk to you for a minute? In private.”

You stand up, knees weak at the look on Gaz's face. He easily pulls your chair back so you can walk. He grabs your hand once you take the first step and pulls you towards the bathroom stalls. You look back to Soap, and see him, Alejandro and Alex who have just taken your place smiling at you with a thumbs up.

He pushes you inside the stall, locking the door behind you and then presses you against the wall, his hips pressed plush against yours. His hand grabs your jaw, making you look at him to his face. “What the fuck do you think you were doing, birdie?”

“What?” You ask, playing dumb.

“What?” He asks back, high pitched voice mimicking yours, his other hand raising to pinch your nipple through the thin fabric of the dress making you hiss. “Do you think I'm blind? Deaf? Or just plain old stupid? Hm?”

“I don't know what- AH!” He pinches hard, making you whine, cutting you off.

“Don't lie to me, birdie.” He says, face getting close to yours where you can feel his breath on yours. “Has Alejandro left you stupid or something?”

“You were ignoring me!” You complain, trying to act tough as if his degrading tone wasn't making you grow wet by the minute.

“Oh! So that's it!” He asks, dry laughing. “I speak with a person for one minute!” He says, raising a finger to accentuate his words. “And you are already looking for another dick to choke on, right?”

“That's not true!” You argue, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Then show me, birdie. Show me mine is the only dick you want to choke on.” He says, rubbing his crotch against your abdomen.

The moment he pulls back, you drop to your knees helping him get his belt undone. He lowers his briefs, shaft springing free and pulsing right in front of your face. He is already hard and it makes you wonder whether he was already when he stood up from the table.

He grabs your wrist, and when his tip is inside your warm mouth he thrusts forward hitting the back of your throat hard making you gag but pulling your hands behind his back to prevent you from moving back.

It’s ironic how similar it is to the first night you met him, when Price cuffed you around his waist.

He thrust forward hard, your eyes watering as you fight your gag reflex. You wonder for a second if he is actually getting any kind of pleasure other than the feeling of humiliation you.

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, pushing you closer until your nose reaches his happy trail. You look up to him, vision blurry with tears.

He groans, pulling your hair to push you back and then up to have you standing. He turns you around, pushing your head against the wall. “I guess I have no other option but to fuck your ungrateful pussy, hm? Fuck you stupid so you can stop whoring yourself to every man? How many more dicks do you need, birdie? How much of a slut are you that four dicks the size of your bloody forearms are not enough?”

It shouldn't be turning you on as it is, every single feminist cell on your body getting ignored by all your blood flowing to your cunt pulsing with anticipation.

He pulls your dress up, pushing your panties to the side before probing your entrance with his tip. He knows it's gonna sting, but in his jealousy-driven mind, that's what he wants. For your body to remember him tomorrow.

He pushes forward, slowly, covering your mouth when you cry at the sting; waiting stills once he bottoms out to let go of your mouth.

He grabs both your wrists on his hand behind your back, still keeping your head pushed against the wall. There is a loud sound of his hips slapping against yours, accompanied by the moans and pants of both of you.

You could as well have the door open with the way you are fucking, everyone that walks by would know perfectly fine what's going on.

He bends forward, close to your face, talking to you through gritted teeth. “This is what you wanted, right? To get fucked like a whore? While everyone outside knows that you are getting fuck? Filthy, filthy slut.”

He moves back, letting go of your head only to slap your ass hard enough to leave an imprint. It makes you jump, making him grunt when you clench around him.

“Fucking. Take it. Whore.” He says, snapping his hips at every word, knocking the breath out of you. His heavy balls keep slapping against your clit, sending shockwaves up your column making your toes curl.

He slaps your ass again, hard, always on the same spot. And he doesn't relent until he starts to see the little purple dots of a bruise forming on your asscheek. It has tears threatening to fall from your eyes, still pulsing around him so close for release.

“I bet you are scared I'm gonna leave you hanging, right, whore?” He asks, reading your mind. The thought of the man finishing before you and leaving you wanting your release was on your mind since he made you stand from the table. “You don't even care about anything else, do you? As long as you get to cum, you don't care that I talk to you like you are trash, do you? Such a fucking whore, only thinking with your cunt.”

He chuckles behind you, not sparing you a second to breathe as your orgasm comes closer and closer. “Then cum, you fucking whore. I don't have all night.”

And you do, whaling his name as your whole body shakes when the orgasm rains over you. Your head hits the tiling with a loud TONK as you do, making Gaz laugh meanly behind you at your lack of control.

He lets go of your hands, letting you support yourself on your hands instead of your face. He holds your hips instead, thrusting in and out fast and shallow, going after his own release.

You clench around him, the overstimulation getting to you and that is enough for Gaz to spill thick ropes of his spent inside of you. Pulling out to see it spill out, just for him to shove his dick back inside making you moan when fucks his cum back inside of you.

“Kyle!” You whine, needing a moment to breathe. He chuckles behind you, getting his dick out and moving to grab toilet paper to dry himself off you. You look under you, between your legs seeing the thin strip of his seed spilling out of you onto the floor.

“Aw, birdie, you're letting it go to waste.” He comments behind you, while he puts his pants back up.

You give him a look making him chuckle and you stand up, leaning back on the sink with wobbly legs. He walks between them, pushes one of your legs apart with his and gets two of his fingers back inside of your saturated cunt.

You groan, slapping his arm. “I'm just making sure that you can feel my cum slipping out of you for the rest of the night so you can stop acting like a whore.” He says, beaming with a smile.

He takes his fingers out, helping you clean up and throw the paper away. He holds you in his arms, the jealousy flushed out of his system turning him back onto his clingy self.

You look up to him, his eyes shiny with love on them. Smiling widely at you. You don't know what pushes you to say it, but once it leaves your lips you are not sure who is more flabbergasted out of the two.

“I think I love you, Kyle”

“Wh- Bird- I- You can't…” he sighs, resting his head on yours. “You can't say such a thing right after I called you a whore, Birdie!” He complains, trying to hide the smile on his voice.

“Hm, don't call me a whore then!” You argue, the same smile on your face. “Are you not going to say it bac-”

Before you can finish the question, his lips are on yours. Plush soft lips kissing you lovingly, he is almost hugging your head with how tightly he is hugging your shoulders. “I think I love you too, Birdie. You little minx”

You chuckle against his lips, butterflies on your stomach as if mere minutes ago it wasn't his dick you were feeling inside of you. It's a silly feeling, but a warm one indeed.

He kisses you again, a soft peck on your lips before softly patting your butt (the side he didn't assault before) and saying. “Wash your face and get out before they think I murdered you.”

You chuckle, getting spooked at your reflection on the mirror. You grab paper again, working on taking most of the mascara running down your face and the smudged lipstick.

You do a decent job at it, cleaning Gaz's lips as well and walking out of the bathroom, still feeling your knees ready to give up. It is clear that whichever high rank that was at the party must have left, because the quiet dinner from before is slowly turning into a party.

On your table, only Ghost, Soap and Price are still sitting down. Most likely waiting to leave altogether, but it makes the walk easier and as you try to sit down, Price pulls you into his lap, Gaz groaning behind you.

Price kisses your temple. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks softly, and you shake your head grabbing the champagne bottle for the middle of the table. “I'm finally out of the house, I want a party.”

It's late at night when the five of you finally make it home. Everyone's a little bit tipsy, enough to make everyone clumsy and to have an easy laugh at everything. That's how you go to sleep, helping everyone get naked too tired to bother with any sleepwear. Between giggles, kisses and smacks to everyone's butts with the corresponding “EH!”

It is a comedic image, the bed not big enough but everyone still stubborn enough to sleep altogether. Too clingy to sleep apart from each other.

Price wishes he could sleep like this every night, knowing the five of you are safe and within reach.

If only he knew he wasn't going to be able to do it again.

TADAAA

Hi lovelies!! 💗

We are now on the last stretch, only one more chapter left. And it has me on my feelings to see the series end 😭

But anyway, hope you like it 💗

Also, debating whether to upload the last chapter later today or tomorrow, so we will see.

Make sure to leave a comment or a reblog if you did 💗💗

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @prettykinkysoul @pagesfalling @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @sodavrrr @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz @risingofjupiter @witchthewriter @soupinasock @phantomly27 @arbesa-mind @multifandomheathenannie @spadekip @cmbghost @herefor-tojis-tits @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce

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shuenkio · 2 months

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Rewrite the stars | PJ.s 🍂

Paring: Jay x Male!reader | Genre: Angst but fluff.

Synopsis: the man who once broke your heart, decided that he will make a change between you and him, to form the love once again.

Cw: nothing just two exes getting back together.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A-N: This was way back in June so it's a bit 🤏 cringe and many dramatic scene you'd discover, again I'm still develop how to express character emotion:> .

Years of dating with Jay crumbled in a blink of an eye when m/n saw him with a girl on a date with his gift that m/n gave him during his birthday. M/N calmed down, trying to process what's truly happening. We can't judge a book by its cover, but the moment M/N saw Jay press a soft kiss on the girl's cheek, it's over.

There's no explanation for this. M/N's tears break down unconditionally; he wants to go there and scream at Jay's face and ask why he would do such a thing to his boyfriend here. That's the ugliest memory you had of him. Nevertheless, since I love him very much, he can't seem to let him go.

Not because of his wealthy status; it's because he loves him so much from the bottom of his heart that he swears he would do anything for Jay. However, Jay had asked M/N to break up with him, and with no more heart in those eyes that once used to be, the adorable expression he made just for you when he talked about his day is no longer in this broken relationship.

Begging for him to stay would just make you pathetic and blinded by love. When m/n has decided he has to let him go, the person who's once been the love of his life is now leaving for their own good. Are all of the memories and promises nothing to Jay? The question seemed unspoken without an answer, clenching in his chest painfully in sorrow, along with the hurtful words that haunted your sleep every single day.

"Let's break up"

—5 years later, after M/n graduated and found his true passion with his dream job. He was no longer stressing about nonsense; he got everything at the age of 25: money, a car, a house, importantly, a job. chapter of his life wherein he can get whatever he wishes for. I worked as a designer, making tons of exquisite and high-quality collections of luxurious clothes and dresses that hit the market every single time they were launched.

His name soon became the hot topic in society; not only did he walk with the trend, he was also loved by everyone with his relatability and kindness. Moreover, during the week, while he was spending his time at the spa, M/N got a call from his manager saying that there'll be a new member of a top-tier design team who wishes to work with you, especially as one of the co-workers. This was not new, nor is it difficult to handle, but what was coming for you was a blind spot.

The time has come; M/N is now in a meeting room, waiting for the new guy who is eager to work with him so much. He wonders who it could be, as a top-tier designer in this city will make an appearance in front of you at any moment soon. The glass door was opened by a pair of hands, and his manager came in with the taller man behind in his black suit. Everyone in the room stood up as a sign of respect except M/N.

He was so lost in thought at the new face behind his manager. He is quite familiar. M/N refuses to care if he's scolded by the supervisor, yet who cares? The whole group settled down in their own seats, and due to M/N sitting across from the table, he began to focus on the meeting instead of giving his attention to that guy.

"Everybody, Meet Jay Park! He will be working with us from now on, as a designer, of course, just like our gem, M/N. Haha, and it looks like this gentleman is here. I look forward to working with you. How do you like that m/n? " It was horrible the unrequited attention on you was your least favorite thing you thought would never happen; the uncomfortable shift in your seat explained everything.

"Very well, Mr. Park. So then, since I've already seen him, I'll take my leave. Please excuse me." Once m/n knew who he was, he spared no time before leaving the place immediately. A glance on Jay's face, flashing back all of those nightmares once again. I don't know if it's because of work or something else, but deep down, a part of him said Jay is probably planning to take you back. How annoying.

Ever since the first meeting, of working together with your ex, M/N got nothing but troubling. Whenever Jay had time alone with M/N, he would always bring up the past topic all over again. He was truly sorry for his actions—for hurting you and for cheating on you with another girl. Jay swears he would wear his skin to the bone just for you to accept him once again.

However, it was such a bad move. Due to how much popularity M/N had, there's some reason you thought he would come back for you just because you had fame. Along with the sudden request to get back together, what will happen if he's going to cheat and repeat all the events once again? A busy day ended with the finished touch of your creation. M/N didn't know how long he had been standing here in the studio. All the sections are in pitch black except him. Employees have all gone back to their own homes. Prepared for you stuff to head home after a long day, a fade of voice fills the room from behind. Well, it was loud and clear to recognize.

"M/n i... Aren't you supposed to go home yet?" He paused, dipping his hands into his pocket.

"I'm about to. It's getting late; you should too," m/n implied with no enthusiasm for a small talk.

"Look, um, I know it's hard for you, but please hear me out." Jay's words seem so desperate; the low tone in his voice gives me chills. From the head to the bottom, not gonna lie, it's true he's a total mess. The bags under those eyes were visible on his face, and the lip was dry like he hadn't drunk any water. Is he going to make you pity him? No? At least you give him a chance to talk.

"If you talk about our relationship again, you should stop. I have nothing for those past memories."

"I’m so sorry... I never should have hurt you. I'd let you go. But every day without you is like living in a world with no sun—cold, empty, and endless. I was wrong to think I could burn on my own and that I didn’t need you. Without you, I’m just ashes. Please, I can’t keep pretending I’m okay. I’m losing pieces of myself every day. Give us another chance—I need you more than words can say" He whispered, his voice thick with regret. His hands trembled as he reached out, but he hesitated. Still respect your boundaries and keep the space between them. M/N stood there, stunned.

His chest tightened, and he could feel the lump forming in his throat, making it impossible to speak. Memories flashed through his mind—the laughter, the nights spent together, all the moments they shared. Tears began to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He tried to hold them back, but they spilled over, one after the other. His hands shook, and he felt completely lost, unable to do anything but let the tears fall.

Unable to hide his own weakness, he covers his own face with the pair of his palms, breaking down on the spot as his knees feel weaker than ever. Why should you cry over someone who once broke your heart, someone who left you in the middle of the ocean with no shore at all yet? Till today, he was crawling back, begging for forgiveness, swearing he'd never done it ever again.

Isn't that two times more painful than before? Should you accept him back or not? Or are you scared of getting stabbed again? His heart sank as M/N started crying. Seeing him so broken made Jay's chest tighten with guilt and sadness. Jay can't contain himself to stand while watching you in this state; he was the one who caused this after all.

Unexpectedly, you were surprised to see him wrap his hand around you before pulling you into a tight hug. Listening to your sobbing was enough for him to bury himself alive in the graveyard. He wanted to wash all his sins away for having wounded you; if he could go back in time, he'd sacrifice anything just to keep you close

once again.

"Let's rewrite our story hm ? I'll be a better man from now on. I promise there'll be fewer tears in your eyes, pretty. I'll love you till the day that i die "

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ dividers: Thecutestgrotto and crd to all the pic owner..

Thanks for this pookie 😽❤️ IWALY!!!!

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itsmarsss · 3 months

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Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 6 - Transaction Action

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn’t exactly considered classy, Stolas.)

"Stolas wants you don't get mad", he blurts out. "What do you mean Stolas wants me?"

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9

Word Count: 12,920

Warnings: threesome, afab!reader, unprotected sex (don’t do that y’all!! also this does NOT lead to a pregnancy or anything like that lol i fell for that in a fic once and i hated it so don’t worry abt that), making out, dry-humping, dirty talk, fingering, Stolas has a cloaca (like in canon), Blitzø purrs, hair-pulling, feather-pulling (?), tail play (?), use of blindfold, physical restraint (no ropes, just.. tails again lmao), light choking, stolas is very submissive, penetrative sex, standing sex, sexual tension, name-calling, light degradation, dom/sub undertones, squirting, i think that’s all. this chapter is basically just sex honestly.

When Blitzø called you up into his office only a few minutes before you were supposed to go home, this was not where you’d thought the conversation would be going. You could have imagined it would have something to do with his whole situation with Stolas, judging by the weird suggestive way he asked you to go and the fact that the full moon was just the next day, but, then again, that was Blitzø, and that wasn’t really anything abnormal.

So when he sat you down on his chair, circled behind you and offered you a fucking shoulder rub (which, what the fuck?), you knew something was up. “Okay what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” He retorts.

“Blitz. What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?”

“You would not be giving me a fucking massage right now if you hadn’t done something.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to get you in the mood… ‘s it working?” He half-heartedly tries some flirty humor.

“Blitz.”

He sighs. “Okay I did do something.”

“Oh what a surprise!”

“But it wasn’t like. Well I didn’t do do something. I just did something.”

“What does that fucking mean?”

“Stolas wants you don’t get mad,” he blurts out.

“What do you mean Stolas wants me?”

He sits down on top of the desk in front of you so he can face you as he speaks. “Well you know the thing I have with him?”

“Not exactly, it’s really fucking confusing.”

“Not that confusing. We use his little magic spell book-”

“His Grimoire.”

“Yeah that. We use that in order to have I.M.P. happen and everything. And I bring it back to him every full moon.”

“Yeah and where does the whole sex thing come in again?”

“Well it’s like. Uh. It’s like an exchange, you know. He lets us use the book, which is kind of a little bit very illegal but ya know he’s royalty he won’t get in trouble or something like that, I don’t know, and in exchange I have sex with him.”

“Like just once a month?”

“Like just once a month,” he repeats in confirmation.

“That is-”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, right?”

“Not exactly what I was gonna say. But sure.”

“Well it is. And guess what? Stolas wants you to… participate… in our activities.”

“Stolas what?”

“I told you! He wants you.” Blitzø smirks, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“What? No.”

His expression falls immediately. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean, you can’t just go offering sexual favors in my name! I’m not some fucking sex doll!”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“No I didn’t, you just asked me not to.”

“Look I didn’t offer it, he just asked for it!”

“Well then tell him no! I see this guy all the time for years and sure he’s hot or whatever but he’s so composed and polite and never shows any fucking ounce of interest and now he pulls this?”

“I mean you’re not awful to look at. Maybe he’s been thinking about it all this time. Maybe all those years he’s been jacking it off to you in his-”

“Well this is not the way to go about it.”

“He just told me to ask you. It’s supposed to be a ‘non-pressure ask,” He says, in air-quotes, “but, like, he’s a prince you know? And we need the book.”

“Does none of that sound concerning to you?”

“Not really,” he shrugs. “It’s just what I do.”

Your mind wanders to yourself a few years before and you wonder if it would be wise to accept a deal like this. You wonder, too, if you should talk to Ozzie before deciding on it, but then again… you kind of didn’t want to have that conversation. And would it be so bad to hook up with two hot guys and get something you needed out of it? You realize you were sounding just like Blitzø. Or just like…

You shake the thought away. This was different. “What about us?” You find yourself asking.

“What about us?”

“How would we go about this? Isn’t it gonna be weird?”

“What? No way. We’re just gonna be friends who… sometimes… fuck the same guy… at the same time. And that’s it.”

“Is it… good? Like is it good at all with him or just like. A ‘get it over with to get what you want’ kind of thing’?”

Blitzø averts his eyes to the floor, hesitating before giving you an answer. “Best sex I’ve ever had. But don't go telling anyone that.”

“Well shit.”

“So, you in?”

“I... the full moon’s tomorrow, right? Can I… think about it?”

“As your boss? No. But as your friend… sure.”

“Wow. So caring of you.”

“Yeah yeah call me mother Talita or whatever.”

“Mother what?” You stifle a laugh.

“Mother Talita? You know, that… nun or whatever.”

“That’s Mother Theresa, dude. And she’s been down here.”

“Yeah well so am I.”

“Well, am I dismissed, sir?” You mock him, putting on a stupid accent, trying to ease the tension up.

“Sir, huh? I can work with sir.”

You smile. Has it been that long since that day you met?

[. . .]

Millie looks confused when she opens her front door to find you on the other side of it later that day. Well, not day anymore, technically. A little later than that. And a little later than later, too.

Alright, it’s the middle of the night and you’re sort of, kind of, panicking. A lot.

“Y/N? E’rythin’ alright?” She yawns, clearly woken up by your knocking on her door.

“I know you were sleeping, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine. Something happen?”

“Not really. Well not yet.”

She raises an eyebrow, curious. “Come in, girl.” She walks you inside and the two of you sit down, facing each other, on the purple couch you always compliment her on. Moxxie comes out of their room, rubbing his eyes and barely awake. “Sweetie everything-“ he yawns. “Everything okay?” He doesn’t even register the fact that you’re there, eyes barely open.

“Yeah Mox. Y/n’s just here to talk.”

“Oh. Hey.” He finally fixes his eyes on you and gives you a little wave.

“Hey Mox,” you wave back.

“‘S it a both of us talk or a Millie talk?”

“Millie talk.”

“Okay. I’ll be,” he vaguely points back to the room, his mind clearly still foggy from the sleep. You feel bad for waking them up like this, but it’s not exactly the first time something like this has happened, be it you showing up at their door at late hours to talk to either or both of them just like this, or one of them (both too, once) showing up at your place instead. “I’ll be right. There.”

“Sure, Mox. You can go back to sleep now, alright? I’ll be right back,” Millie tells him with a fond smile, and he nods before walking back into the room, closing the door behind him to let the two of you talk.

“Okay. Ya wanna tell me what’s going on now?”

“Blitz asked me to do something and I think I’m gonna say yes but I really don’t know if I should ‘cause it’s a little bit insane.”

“Oookay. What’d he ask ya to do?”

“Well not just him. Apparently- apparently Stolas-“

“The prince guy?”

“Yeah, the prince guy. Apparently he wants to make the deal they have like… a three person thing.”

“What?” She asks loudly, voice pitched up.

“Yeah. And apparently he asked Blitz to ask me to participate tomorrow.”

“They want you to like… fuck ‘em?” She makes a crude gesture with her hands, trying to confirm she understood you right.

“… yeah.”

“Well shit!”

“I know!”

“And you wanna say yes?”

“Is it crazy if I do?”

“A little! I get that you wanna fuck Blitz but you’re sure a threesome with this royal guy is the best way to do that?”

“Hey! I don’t wanna fuck Blitz!”

“Y/n. I love you. I love Blitz.” She pauses, trying to make a point. “You two wanna fuck so bad it’s painful to watch sometimes.”

“That’s not true! And we both agreed waaay back when we met that we wouldn’t. That’s why we’re such good friends!” You exclaim, as if what you’re saying is normal and even obvious.

“Again, I love you. Very much. But I don’t need to keep fighting some urge to fuck you so that we can stay friends, ya know. That’s not normal.”

You go quiet. The point she’s trying to make is fundamentally right, and so there’s really not anything you can say to dispute it. You know that.

“That’s not the point here! I think I want to say yes, just see where it goes maybe. But what if we’re right? And then we fuck and things are weird and I’m just involved in this situation.”

“I think you’re giving it too much credit. Things could get a little weird but it’s not like it would fuck up your friendship.”

“You don’t think it would?”

“Not if you don’t let it. But I’m a little worried about the threeway part of it. This isn’t Blitz asking you out. You know that, right? It’s Stolas asking to fuck ya. Through him. He’s like. Just a part of it.”

“I know. And I don’t want Blitz to ask me out, by the way. Alright? And yeah obviously this feels a little weird. But the guy’s hot and I’ve always noticed that. And don’t tell him I told you this, like ever, but Blitz says he’s the best sex he’s ever had.”

“Blitz said that?”

“Yeah! I think I’m just curious.”

“Girl, you know what you wanna do already. I dunno why you even came here.”

“I want your opinion!”

“My opinion is you wanna do this so do it! But maybe don’t commit to like… a forever kinda deal ya know. Do it once and see whatcha think.”

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds… smart.”

“ I never said I thought it was smart, it’s dumb as shit!”

[. . .]

Blitzø was already in his office when you got to work. Well, obviously. You’d passed up on the carpool this morning, choosing to walk this time instead. What was weird, though, was the fact that the place was so oddly quiet at that time of the morning, when usually there would be some sort of argument between Moxxie and Loona going on, or some weird client explaining their whole life story to Blitz somewhere, or even Millie training in the middle of the office.

Millie and Moxxie weren’t there, though. Strange. “Where’s everyone?” You ask Loona.

“The two fuckfaces went up on their own.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “Don’t ask me. Blitz told them to. Said he’d go for a different target with you when you got here.”

“‘Kay. Thanks.”

You walk up to his office, knocking on the door. It was closed, which was also weird. He almost never left it closed unless he had a client in there, which Loona would’ve probably told you about. “What?” He yells from inside.

“It’s me.”

“Oh. Come in.”

You do. You open the door to find him sitting on his chair, hands behind his head and feet over the table. “So?” He asks, and you know he’s referring to your answer to what he proposed the day before. Alright, straight to the point then.

“D’you think I could go tonight and see how it goes? Before, you know, committing to the whole deal thing and all?”

“I mean I guess?”

“Tell him I’m doing that,” you assert yourself.

He doesn’t seem to have any complaints about it. Quite the opposite, in fact. “So… ya wanna get ready at my place? I can help you relax a little before we go.” He grins, doing that stupid thing where he wiggles his eyebrows up and down.

“Stop making things weird!”

“Learn how to take a joke, bitch!”

“Learn how to be funny, asshole!”

[. . .]

At home, you’re feeling nervous. What the fuck had you even gotten yourself into? What had gotten into Stolas to request you participate in the agreement anyway? You’d barely ever exchanged that many words in the times you’d seen each other throughout the years.

Still, there you were, getting ready to fulfill his wishes.

Well, if you were doing this, you should dress to impress, right? You convince yourself that’s what you’re doing, but really you’re just trying to compensate for the anxiety by dressing nice and at least feeling hot.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror: you look nice. It’s been a while since you’ve gone out with anyone. Well, not that this was going out. It’s still been a little while since you've hooked up with someone, too, though. You sit down on your bed and grab your phone, noticing you got a text from Millie.

mills: how u doin?

You send her a selfie as a reply.

mills: DAMN U LOOK HAWT

you: thank u!! u really think so?

mills: duhh?? bur r u sure ur ok w this?

you: i think so

mills: thats not a yes

you: if i get uncomfortable ill leave promise! right?

mills: right. so. u finally getting it on w blitzzzzzzzz 😏😏😏😏

you: ew bye millie!!

mills: aw cmonnn

you: no!! bye!!!

No getting into that subject. Millie has been adamant about pointing out the sexual tension between you and Blitzø for ages now. And, just as you could admit the night before, it’s not that you don’t notice it, or even that you were in denial about it being there- you were denying any acting upon it. And it was working out great, in fact! It’s what made you two such great friends, right? And tonight you were throwing years of that self control out the window. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all.

You tried not to dwell too hard on that, as there’s plenty of other things to think about at the moment, and you click out of Millie’s contact and on Blitzø’s instead.

you: im ready can you come get me???

He takes a few minutes to reply.

blitz(n)o: ON MY WAY

[. . .]

“Shit” is the first and only thing he says as soon as he pulls up outside of your apartment complex, checking you out.

“What? Is it too much? I thought it was simple enough.” You look down at your outfit as you get in the car- a black tank top, lacy black bra peeking out, and simple, plain black shorts.

“No it’s simple. Pretty uh. Pretty simple,” Is all he says before turning his head to face forward, beginning to drive.

What did that fucking mean? “Okay.”

He changes the subject. “So! Ya ready for the time of your life?”

“I don’t think you understand how much I’ve fucked before.”

“I don’t think you understand how good I am.”

“Sure thing, Blitz.”

“Oh don’t act like you haven’t been thirsting for this dick for years now.”

“I most definitely haven’t.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

“And what do you hear?”

“What I hear is that my dick must be good.”

You cringe as you remember the moment. You were wondering when he’d bring that up again. Though you hoped he’d forget about it, you know him, and you know he wouldn’t. “Oh come on, that's low, it was a slip-up.”

“You said it though.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“I have witnesses!”

“Will you shut up?”

“Oh no, I’m gonna talk about this forever and ever and ever and ever and-“

“Shhhhh I wanna listen to some music,” you turn on the radio, trying to get out of the conversation, and tuning into one of the Wrath stations. You sing your hearts out to a few songs until you get to the palace, and then your mood immediately shifts- this is real. This is going to happen. It feels thrilling, but it feels weird, too.

“Come on, we gotta get in through the balcony.”

“What?”

“Why?”

“I- uh- cause… his wife. Well, ex-wife? Or whatever.”

“His wife’s here?”

“No, she leaves with his daughter when I come over.”

“So why would we get in through the balcony?”

“Well the servants!”

“He’s a prince, Blitz, can’t he do, like, whatever he wants?”

“Look, we just gotta. ‘Kay?”

It doesn’t really seem up for debate, so… “Okay.” You follow him, and rather ridiculously climb up Stolas’ balcony, feeling like a fool. When you get up there, Stolas is sitting on his bed, tapping his foot, waiting for you. His eyes light up when he sees the two of you.

“‘Sup, Stolassss?” Blitzø greets him.

“Hello Blitzy. Y/n,” he stands up to greet the both of you, immediately flustered over your presence. He's definitely never done anything like what you’re here to do ever in his life.

“Your Highness.”

“Oh, Please no, what have I told you? None of that.”

“Sorry. Old habits. Hi, Stolas.”

“That’s much better, darling. I like it when you say my name.” Oh.

“I brought her like I said I would, ya fucking perv,” Blitzø smirks.

“Uhm. I can see that, Blitzy.” He looks over to you. “Are you alright with this, dear?”

“Yes, I think.”

Stolas tilts his head to the side. “You think?”

“I’m not really sure why I’m here, honestly. You never really… showed any interest before.”

“My apologies, darling. Things were… a lot more difficult, then. But I have always noticed you.”

“I’m not that sure if I believe you, but-”

“Would you let me show you, then?”

Oh shit. “Yeah. Okay.” You nod, a little more enthusiastically than intended.

“Hey I’m feeling a little left out here,” Blitzø complains, arms crossed over his chest.

Stolas lets out a chuckle. “Is it alright if he joins us, dear?” He asks softly.

“Bitch I’m the one who actually knows her!”

“I am only checking in with her!”

“Let me check in with her!”

“Very well, then, go ahead!”

“It cool if we threeway?”

You let out a laugh at his wording. Ever a poet. “Sure.”

“Nice. See, Stolas?”

Stolas chuckles again, and sits down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. Blitzø follows, sitting down too, but leaving the spot between them empty. He signals for you to come sit with them. Blitzø leans down, pushing your hair out of the way so he’s granted access to your neck. As he begins kissing the spot right under your ear, Stolas grabs your hand, holding it in his.

“Wait.”

They stop moving altogether.

“What, can’t take it? We barely started!” Blitzø jokes.

“It’s not that, asshole. Let’s just not get straight into it, yeah?”

“Shit, okay. You like to watch?” He grins, and you don’t have the time to respond before he lunges over at Stolas, grabbing him by the collar of his vest and pulling him into a hungry kiss.

Stolas seems taken by surprise at first, but quickly lets himself get lost in it, wide eyes closing and startled expression relaxing. At first the kiss is only that- hungry. But as the moments go by you see it morph into something else- they look like two men starved, ready to devour each other whole. They move against each other aggressively, messily, over you, with Stolas cupping Blitzø’s jaw with both of his hands and Blitzø pulling hard on the feathers on the back of his head. Once in a while you can catch a glimpse into the way their tongues move against each other, desperate and careless, and it’s fucking hot.

“Fuck,” you find yourself mumbling under your breath at the scene, unable to hide the way it’s got you all hot and bothered, and the two men pull away from each other, both out of breath.

Blitzø smirks, very obviously enjoying the reaction they got out of you. “So. Like what you see?”

You only nod.

“Wanna try it out?”

You nod again, slowly.

“Use your words, dear,” Stolas urges you, and fuck it’s delicious.

“Yes.”

“Wanna put on a little show for birdy here?” Blitzø grins.

“Yes,” you repeat yourself. He’s so gonna give you shit for the way you’re acting right now after you’re done.

But right now he’s almost sweet about it. “Come here,” he tells you, expecting you to lean in. You do.

Blitzo kisses you abruptly, with no time for you to think twice of it. He kisses you fervently, slowly, taking his time with this kiss that feels long overdue. Honestly, thinking back on it, it feels crazy that, with the sheer amount of sexual tension between you, you’d never even kissed before, despite the constant half-jokes about everything you half-seriously wanted to do to each other. It had always seemed like a line you shouldn’t cross- one you wouldn’t be able to come back from. And you suppose you were right: there was no way things could go back to normal after this. You could act like things were normal, but there was no way in hell you’d be able to forget whatever was about to happen.

This was a problem for future you, though, because current you is busy enjoying every second of this.

He smirks into the kiss, and you can’t even get yourself to complain about his smugness like you normally would. Instead, you reach over around him, twirling his tail around on your pointer finger, hoping to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a kind of whimper you’d only ever heard animals make, clearly unprepared for that. You’d want to make fun of it, if only it didn’t sound so fucking hot and if only it didn’t seem so fucking enticing to have him whimper for you. You’re filled with the urge to make him do it over and over and over and over again, which sucks, because there’s no way you’ll be able to hold a normal conversation with him with those sounds to be remembered. He pulls away from you, though, as soon as he catches himself making the noise.

“Damnit, woman, gotta give a guy a warning!”

You shrug, half-apologetically, and the both of you turn to take a look at Stolas, who has his eyes open impossibly wide- all four of them. His mouth hangs open and there’s a very visible pink flush on his cheeks and it looks so damn cute and it’s making him look so very, very fuckable right now.

“Was it a good show, Stolas?” You ask, trying to get a reaction from him.

Stolas can only get himself to nod slowly, as if lost in a trance. The look on his face makes you want to eat him right up.

“Well. Do I get a show?” Blitzø asks, and a surge of boldness rushes through you, pushing you to crawl your way onto Stolas’ lap, tracing your fingers along his face and his beak and looking up at him through your lashes in feigned innocence.

“What do you think, Stolas? You think he deserves it?”

The prince gulps. It’s exhilarating- to have a fucking Goetia prince under you gulping in anticipation to have you. It’s been a while since you’ve let yourself feel this sort of power over someone. “I… believe it’s only fair,” he responds.

You nod in agreement, pleased, and pull him to you by the collar of his tailored vest. Kissing Stolas is obviously pretty different from kissing Blitzø, but different definitely isn’t bad in this case. It’s a lot more tongue, which makes sense. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been wondering what it was even like to kiss him, considering the, you know, beak. But his hands were planted on your hips and his tongue was moving against yours and he wasn’t desperate in such a way that rushed things too fast, but he was still so clearly eager with the way he kissed you like he’d run out of time that it got you stunned. Fuck, all thoughts that could still linger of this being a bad idea were getting thrown out the window by now- you’d deal with those later.

“Okay okay I get it,” Blitzø complains, interrupting the moment by pulling you away from Stolas by your hair. It makes you freeze in place on the demon’s lap. Did he really just pull on your hair right now? You try to blink the shock right off your face, and maybe the fact that it might have turned you on for just a second, but it’s there long enough for Stolas, who’s staring at you with wide eyes, to notice- you can see it in his expression, like he was making a mental note of it, but he doesn’t mention it out loud.

“That’s rude! What’d you do that for?” You scold.

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t like it, I heard ya tell Millie you do. And the two of you got too many clothes on for a proper show.” You decide to brush off the first comment as to not freak yourself out- you know what conversation that came up in and you did not want to think about the fact that he’d apparently overheard it. Instead, you focus on the latter.

You look back at Stolas, who’s been awfully quiet since Blitzø’s interruption. So much for ‘using your words, dear’. “Actually I think so too. You agree, Stolas?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes!”

You and Blitzø share a look at the reaction, both grinning.

Blitzo wants more, though- he wants to prove to you just how dirty Stolas is, how you should have believed him when he told you about it. “Come on, you can do better than that, Stolas. Don’t be shy now. Tell us what you want.”

“What I want?”

You nod eagerly, encouraging him.

Blitzø moves closer, settling on kneeling behind Stolas, voice dropping an octave as he coos at his ear. “You can talk to her like you talk to me. She ain’t no saint.”

“Really, Blitz?” You raise an eyebrow at the comment.

He looks up at you. “What? You’re the one already on his lap.” Okay, yeah, fair enough.

“So? I can bring out the toys if you want. Just say the word, Stols.” Blitzø urges him. You take a mental note of the nickname to ask him about it at a later time.

Stolas hesitates for only a couple seconds before describing the most dirtiest, filthiest ways in which he wanted to be fucked. You find yourself wanting to fulfill them all as he talks to you. “I want you to fill me up with your fingers. I want it so badly. I have fantasized about it. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this, for how long. Want to gag on Blitzy’s big cock, I want to hear you while he thrusts deep into you, you need to know how perfect it feels. I just want- I- I don’t know what I want, I- I-”

“Fuck.” Blitzo breathes out.

“Fuck.” You reapeat. Fuck, indeed.

A new sense of eagerness runs through you and compels you to move to unbutton the buttons on Stolas’ vest that you’re sure are all made out of real gold. Blitzø seems to be in the same line of thought as undoes his cape from behind him. Why was he even wearing the fucking cape for a scheduled hookup? Whatever, it just needed to be off, off, off. You both move at what feels like it could very much be the speed of light to undress him.

Hearing what Stolas fantasized about had clearly turned the both of you on beyond comprehension, and every ounce of rationality was getting thrown out the window by the second. The clothes you’d taken off of him were blindly thrown somewhere in the room, leaving him only in his pants and underwear, and as much as you did want them off too, you didn’t have it in you to get up off of his lap yet. “Fuck, Stolas. Few months ago I wouldn’t have thought you had that kind of mouth.” You ground your hips against his, experimentally, trying to gauge his reaction.

He didn’t seem to be expecting you to do that, his hips betraying any tries he could make at seeming unbothered by it as they seemed to involuntarily thrust up to meet yours instantly. And then he fucking hoots. Incredible. He covers his mouth when he realizes the sound he made.

“I told you. He’s a filthy fucking whore.” Blitzø says, still behind him. Stolas gulps at the insult. He likes it, you realize.

You run a hand through the feathers on his chest, keeping the other on his shoulder, and you can feel him shiver under you. Blitzø keeps on, speaking in that low voice that wasn’t even directed at you anymore but still gave you chills, bringing his hands to pull Stolas’ down from your hips and on the mattress, on either side of him, trapping them firmly there. You get the idea- and it fills you with anticipation: if things keep going like this, you’re sure to have an utterly helpless Stolas between you. The image your mind conjures of it alone is already breathtaking enough to leave your mind foggy. You roll your hips against his again, and again, settling into a painfully slow pace just to tease him. “What’s up with that, Stolas? The lady thought you weren’t even into her! Acting all polite and shit and then going home and jerking it to her. That what you were doing?”

Stolas doesn’t reply, and you could have mistaken that for him being uncomfortable, if only his body wouldn’t keep betraying him. Blitzø has learned how to use that condescending, mocking tone to get the prince going, having turned it almost into an art form at this point with the way he seemed to know exactly what to say and how to say it to tug on his strings. He closes all four of his eyes, breathing growing more erratic as he grinds back up against you, pointlessly chasing what you purposefully simply won’t give him enough of.

“It’s okay if you did, Stolas, baby. You can tell us,” you coo, as if taking pity on him. The truth is seeing him like this, all flustered and pathetic, was something you came to find out you enjoyed- very much so.

He opens his eyes- only the lower ones- and stares at you with them wide. “Only- only sometimes.”

“Oh, did you now? Poor thing! Did you hear that, Blitz?”

Blitzø lets out a mocking laugh from behind him, still trapping his hands in place. “So pathetic. I bet you jerk it to the thought of our last full moon too, don’t you, Your Highness?”

Stolas doesn’t reply, once again. You halt all movement at the lack of response, as you’ve come to realize teasing him is beyond fun. “Come on, answer him, Stolas.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I knew it. You’re a fuckin’ mess, Stolas! Look at your feathers all ruffled up. So pathetic. ‘S it the girl on your lap or the guy right behind you, huh?”

Stolas completely ignores him. “Your- your clothes. I’m the only one undressed here.. They should be off too,” he pleads, eyes closed once again.

“Which one of us?” You ask.

“Both of you.”

“Oh.”

“Fine by me,” Blitzø shrugs, freeing Stolas’ hands from his grip and taking off his jacket, revealing a button up shirt and… are those suspenders? You restrain yourself from making fun of them so as to not ruin the mood. You’ll make fun of them later. He takes the shirt off swiftly and begins to unbutton his pants, too.

“This what you want me to take off?” You inquire, pulling on one of the straps of the black top and tilting your head to the side. It’s pointless to ask, really, and you know that- there was only so much for you to take off, unlike the two freaks who were practically competing for the most clothing layers in hell. Truth is, you just want to make him say it.

“Yes,” he affirms, pulling at the hem of your top. “Please.”

You nod, pulling it over your head and discarding it somewhere on the floor next to the bed. You take your time, not missing the opportunity to make a little show of it. “Better?”

“So much.” He breathes out.

“Holy fuck I’ve always dreamed of seeing those,” Blitzø comments, staring profusely and unashamedly at your chest. You’re still wearing the pretty black bra you’d picked earlier, and you let out a genuine laugh at the reaction.

“Shut up- ” Whatever you were about to say next dies out as Stolas places a kiss on your collarbone with no warning.

“What, you don’t think it’s true?”

“Oh, no, I believe you.”

“Cocky bitch.”

“You- fuck-“ Stolas nips at a sensitive spot on your neck, just under your ear. “You asked, you pri-” you suck in a breath as he runs his tongue along your throat.

“Hey now, we’re trying to have a conversation here,” Blitzø scolds him. “They don’t teach you it’s rude to interrupt at prince school?” He mocks, and his tail ascends to Stolas’ neck, entailing itself around it and tugging on it. It pulls Stolas’s face away from your body and leaves him gasping for air, and, fuck, it’s hot. “Where was I?” He asks you nonchalantly, tail still squeezing Stolas’ throat just enough to make his breathing erratic. “Telling you how many times I imagined what it’d be like to bury my head in your sweet, sweet-”

“Pervert.”

“Joke’s on you, insulting me only turns me on more.” The spade of his tails lifts Stolas’ chin up, forcing him to rest his head back on Blitzø’s chest.

“Why does that not surprise me- will you quit staring at my boobs?”

“I mean it’s kinda hard when they’re like right there. And where’s that energy for the pigeon here? He hasn’t taken his eyes off ‘em since you took the shirt off. And he’s got four of ‘em.”

You look back down at Stolas, who not-so-gracefully makes a point of directing his gaze somewhere else.

“You been staring, Stolas?”

“No.” It comes out breathy, the sound threatening to not even come out given the hold of Blitzø’s tail on his throat.

Blitzø scoffs.

“It’s okay if you were.”

“Hey!” Blitzø complains. “I’m being treated so unfairly here!”

You ignore him. “Did you get a good look?” You card your fingers through Stolas’ hair before caging his face in your hands.

“What do you mean-”

You pull yourself off his lap altogether and he whimpers at the loss of contact, immediately muttering out apologies for staring at you. You just can't believe how easy it is to make him so submissive, such a mess.

“I’m not punishing you for staring, Stolas. I just think you got a good look already. Don’t you wanna take a good look at Blitz too?” Blitzø raises an eyebrow at you as you lock eyes, silently questioning where you plan on going with that.

Stolas doesn’t have to be told twice, and turns his head, and only his head, to look at Blitzø , in almost a full 180° turn. It’s freaky, and not the sexy kind of freaky- scary freaky.

“Geez don’t fucking do that!” Blitzø releases the demon from his own tail’s grip on his throat. “I was gonna let you move!”

Stolas whips his head back into place and turns his whole body to face Blitz this time. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

“Yeah I noticed.”

Stolas doesn’t look embarrassed by what just happened the same way you noticed he’d been when he let out the compromising noises earlier, and you chalk it up to a single reason- he’s too busy ogling at Blitzø’s almost naked body. You get up off the bed, walking to the other end of the room, where Blitzø had left his bag. Rummaging through the collection of sex toys he’d brought in it, you were positive you’d find what you were looking for somewhere in there- and you do.

“The fuck are you doing?” Blitzø calls out.

You wordlessly hold up the blindfold in reply, putting the other stuff back inside the bag before turning around to face them, only to see both men staring at you intently. “What?” You ask, walking back towards the bed. Was this like a wrong move, or something?

“You wanna use that?” Blitzø asks you.

“Well it’s not for not me, is it? It’s for Stolas.” You explain, casually, and said demon chokes on his own spit.

“Me?”

“Well, yes. I think you’ve stared enough for now, haven’t you? You don’t think we can take care of you? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His cheeks burn a flaming pink hue again and you wonder once again if what you’re suggesting is actually welcome, your confidence faltering for a second. “Have you guys never used it? I thought-”

“Oh we’ve used it alright. I think the pretty bird here’s just a little overwhelmed. Is that right, Stolas?”

“You’re just… so forward, y/n.” It sounds like it’s a good thing, judging by the way he says it. You still want to make sure, though.

“Is that an okay thing?”

“An okay thing?” Stolas repeats, as if even thinking of questioning that is completely stupid. He crawls over to the edge of the bed, where you stood, and sits pretty on his legs with his back to you. “Please do it. I’ll behave, I’ll let you take care of me.”

Okay, green light. Very hot green light.

“Oh, Stolas. I’m sure you will,” you place a kiss on the side of his neck, eyes locked on Blitzø’s as you do so. He, in turn, looks elated, eager for what he knows is coming next.. Whatever you were doing, it seemed you were on the right path, with both of them. You bring the soft black fabric over Stolas’ eyes, tying it up behind his head. Blitzø stares curiously at you when you make eye contact with him again. “You wanna play?” You ask, a devilish smile directed at him.

“Fuck yeah.”

Silence takes over as Blitzø takes his time crawling over to Stolas on all fours, anticipation building inside all three of you by the second. He sits on his own legs, mirroring Stolas’ position, and places his hands on the prince’s knees, pushing his legs open. You can hear Stolas’ breath hitch. Blitzø moves closer now, kneeling between his legs and resting his hands on either of his thighs. Stolas immediately places his own hands on top of the imp’s and leans forward, trying to pull Blitzø into a kiss. Blitzø leans back and clicks his tongue in response.

“Stolas I thought you just said you were gonna behave.”

“I am!”

“You’re not, though, are you? Do I have to spell it out to you? You don’t call the shots here. You touch me when I let you.”

“O- okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He retracts his hands, placing them by his sides once again.

“I don’t know, I’m not very convinced.” He looks up at you. “Think you can hold him for me, sweetheart?” He challenges.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” The words leave his mouth and go straight in between your legs. You can’t help the way it sends shivers up your spine. Blitzø turns his attention back to Stolas. “Come here, Stolas, let’s leave some room for the lady, huh?” He gets into a sitting position and pulls Stolas onto his lap in such a quick motion it makes him gasp.

You kneel on the bed behind Stolas and look up expectantly at Blitzø. As much as Stolas isn’t calling the shots here, neither are you, you realize.

“Now let’s try again, shall we?”

Stolas nods and Blitzø finally pulls him into a kiss once again, hands firmly planted on his hips. You can hear their moans as they make out in front of you, the sinful noises filling the room, and if this were a scene in a movie you’d be replaying it nonstop. Their tongues dance against each other in pure, lewd, lust, and you’re so entranced by it that you almost miss Blitzø’s hand snaking itself down Stolas’ pants. The demon on his lap jumps in surprise, the hands he’d so obediently been keeping to himself involuntarily flying to Blitzø’s biceps.

Blitzø immediately retracts his own hands from Stolas’ body entirely, and Stolas mutters what you think is a ‘fuck’ as he realizes what he did wrong. “It wasn’t fair, you didn’t warn me-”

“Nuh-uh, I gave you another chance already, Stols. I think you need to be taught some manners.” He looks up at you and signals to Stolas, and you blink a couple times before you catch onto what he wants you to do.

You lean in closer, your front now flushed to Stolas’ back, and reach to grab his hands- one with your own and the other with your tail. Bringing them both to his back, you bind them with the tail, securing them together. It leaves your hands free, and you take the liberty to grab Stolas’ hair and pull on it, forcing him to lift his chin up, making him let out a shaky breath. Blitzø didn’t ask you to do that, but you’re sure he’ll appreciate it. You sure are.

“Now we’re talking. Can’t disobey now that you’re being held back, can ya?”

“I’ve apologized-”

“Ah-ah-ah. We’re past that already. And I don’t think you really are sorry. Ya wanna know what I think? I think you want to be held back. I think you want to be helpless.”

Stolas takes a gulp instead of responding.

“Let's see if this way you’ll behave like a good little slut, huh?” Blitzø grabs Stolas’ face with both his hands and pulls him into a kiss that isn’t just desperate, but brutal this time around. Stolas’ little moans are delicious, and you watch over his shoulder as Blitzø snakes a hand inside his pants again. Like the last time, Stolas tries to move his hands, but your hold on his wrists restrains him from doing so. “I still feel like you’re wearing so much. Don’t you think we should take this off?” He pulls on the waistband of Stolas’ pants.

“Please do.”

Blitzø grins and looks at you. “I don’t know… What do you think, y/n? Think he deserves it?”

You lean down to whisper in Stolas' ear. “You think I should tell him you’ve been trying to move?”

“No. No, I won’t do it again. I swear.”

“Yeah, I think we could put him out of his misery.”

“If you think so,” Blitzø pulls on the waistband of Stolas’ pants and underwear again, prompting the prince to lift up his hips so they could be taken off, leaving him completely exposed. You find your position a shame right now, only able to see what you can over his shoulder, and decide you just have to switch it. You let go of your tail’s grip on Stolas’ wrists and let your hands off his hair, moving to kneel by Blitzø’s side, now able to see the whole picture, and it’s a sight to behold, Stolas’ naked body on top of Blitzø’s, his eyes - all four- hidden by the silk fabric.

“Holy shit.”

“What, couldn’t contain yourself?” Blitzø mocks.

“I’m the one who’s new to this.”

“Oh yeah! You are! You wanna give her a proper show now, Stolas?”

“Yes! Yes.”

“You can touch me this time.”

“Oh thank fuck-” Stolas mutters out and immediately wraps his arms around Blitzo’s neck. He ruts his hips against his once, tentatively, trying to gauge any sort of response now that he’s been granted permission to. When Blitzø meets his thrust, he lets out a relieved sigh, and begins to grind onto him in a crescending rhythm, finally able to get some friction in his own accords.

The second Blitzø starts purring, you’re done for. You don’t even really think before your lips are on his neck, and your hand rests on his chest, and his lips meet Stolas’ as they keep their pace against each other, and in a matter of seconds it all becomes a mess of entangled limbs and breaths and lewd noises.

Your lips graze Blitzø’s earlobe for a second and one of his hands comes flying off of Stolas’ hips to your hair, pushing your head back down. “Do it again,” he demands, eyes closed and breathless, and you oblige, kissing up on the side of his neck until you get to his ear again, biting lightly on it, causing him to instinctively pull on his grip in your hair, and making you let out an involuntary moan directly to his ear. He thrusts up hard against Stolas at the noise, the purring growing louder. Stolas yelps at the change in pace, fast, brutal and utterly dirty now. “Come on, Stolas, you can give me one before we get more far.”

Stolas’ face scrunches and you almost think he’s going to correct Blitzø’s grammar before he simply nods, ignoring it and leaning further so his forehead meets Blitzø’s, and it actually looks sweet. There’s no time for being sweet.

You grab Stolas’ face, roughly pulling him to face you, and his movement falters. “Don’t stop, Stolas. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You nod, pleased, squeezing his cheeks until his mouth is forced open and pulling him into a torturing kiss, slow and sensual and downright vulgar. A promised, he doesn’t stop his pace against Blitzø, who meets him with equally eager ruts of his hips, but doesn’t look nor sound nearly as fucked out as he does. Blitzø presses two of his fingers directly to Stolas’ hole, and, though he doesn’t insert them or even move them, the friction from it in between their bodies as the moved in sync seemed to be enough to turn Stolas into an even bigger mess, mouth parted as he let out the most impossibly filthy, delightful noises, barely able to kiss you back properly.

“I’m going to- I’m- Please, please, please, let me-” he’s so gone you’re not even sure he can register what he’s saying, how he’s begging. And he’s begging for permission, you realize.

“You make the call,” Blitzø tells you. “Think he deserves it?”

“I’m not sure,” you taunt. “You think you’ve been a good boy for us, Stolas?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Good, good boy. You can cum, Stolas. Can you cum for us?”

Stolas nods furiously, pace increasing to be impossibly more desperate, and you watch in awe as Blitzø inserts two of his fingers inside his hole, going back to thrusting into him right after. The noise of his fingers moving inside of Stolas, along with the breathy moans he’s letting out, is so pornographic it makes you blush- Stolas is so fucking wet that Blitzø has no issue inserting them entirely inside, though he’s still careful with it, curling it up in such a way it has Stolas letting out an animalistic screech. You can see he’s just on the verge of finishing, and decide you can put yourself to good use to help, snaking your tail up to his neck and wrapping it tightly around it, now aware that he likes that, but still in such a position that you can have a clear view when he cums- and oh, when he cums!

The wet noises fill the room along with Blitzø’s grunts and Stolas’ utterly sinful moans, in sync with the way their hips meet and Blitzø’s fingers go deeper and deeper inside him each time. The sight is glorious, from Stolas’ semblant of pure ecstasy to the way he drips onto Blitzø’s fingers, hips faltering more and more as he loses himself while the orgasms hits him, leaving it for Blitzø to pump his fingers inside him a few more times so he can fully ride it out.

You retract your tail from his neck as he rests his head on Blitzø’s shoulder, jumping up at the stimulation when Blitzø moves to retract his fingers from inside of him. Blitzø wordlessly offers them to you, and you silently open up your mouth, tongue out and all, so that he can place them inside. You run your tongue over his fingers, coated with Stolas’ fluid, looking at Blitzø through your lashes. You give them kitten licks, enjoying the way he seems affected by the sight. “Suck, bitch,” he demands, and you don’t even have the willpower to determine if you care about the name-calling or not, only doing as he says and sucking his fingers dry obediently. He looks pleased by it. “Ya hear that, Stolas? She’s tasting you on my fingers like it’s her last fuckin’ meal. Bet you wish you could see that,” he mocks, and Stolas shudders at the thought. You pull away with a soft ‘pop’, licking the remnants of the liquid from your lips.

“Don’t be mean, Blitz,” you coo, moving to untie the fabric in the back of Stolas’ head. He takes a couple seconds to lift his head up from Blitzø’s shoulder, eyes slowly opening to take in the view of the two of you. He blushes slightly, and his eyes travel down to where his groin meets Blitzø’s, gulping at the sight of his cum all over Blitzø’s underwear. He’s sure he’s ruined it, but doesn’t have the heart to care. He can just buy him a new one.

“Are you alright, Stolas?’ You ask him, softly, as he comes back to his senses.

“Yes. Yes, thank you, thank you.”

Blitzø smirks. “So, Stols. Anything, huh?”

“I- uh-” Stolas stumbles over his words, embarrassment washing over him now that he’s come down from chasing his high. “I-”

“Are you backing down, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that,” Stolas scolds him. “And I still don’t know why I am the only one undressed.”

“Cause it’s fun,” you chime in, chuckling at his expression.

“You a pussy, Stolas?”

“No- I’m- will you not call me that?”

“If you stop acting like one.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Now that’s more like it.” He grins, pleased. “You’re gonna eat her out, and I’m gonna watch.”

“What?” You’re the one to ask.

“What, don’t think I didn’t see your thighs pressed together while you watched us. I could bet you so much money that you’re dripping wet just from watching.”

“I-” You glance at Stolas, who has his head tilted to the side as he watches you. He looks curious. “Okay.”

“Good fuckin’ girl. Come on, Stolas, don’t be shy!” Blitzø pulls you to lie down with your head on one of Stolas’ fancy silk pillows, and you feel anticipation bubbling inside you.

Stolas crawls to kneel right by Blitzø’s side, facing your legs. His eyes wander from you to Blitzø to you to Blitzø, as if unsure where to begin. And apparently he is. “I don’t- I don’t know how to- what should I do?”

“You never eaten a woman out before?”

Stolas ashamedly nods his head no.

“Didn’t you have a whole ass wife?”

“Well, yes, but we barely ever-” oh.

“Okay, well, good thing I’m kind of an expert,” Blitzø grins confidently and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at it. “Ya wanna learn something new today?”

Stolas nods feverishly.

“Okay, well, change of plans, tits,” Blitzø tells you, crawling over to be at face level with you, his body fully on top of yours, weight held up by his hands on either side of your head. “That alright?” He lowers his voice again, staring deeply into your eyes. You’re beginning to suspect he could ask you to do anything in that voice and you’d do it, no questions asked.

You take a gulp. “Yes.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he whispers, before capturing your lips on his roughly. This time around the kiss doesn’t start slow, or tender, or anything remotely wholesome. It’s obscene and hungry and feels so, so right. He leaves his weight for his left arm to support as, lips still linked with yours, tongue still dancing against your own, he descends his right hand to squeeze your right breast over your bra, and you feel him open a smile against your lips when he manages to make you suck in a harsh breath at the feeling of it. He massages your breast roughly over the piece of clothing before he tugs the bra cup down, thumb and pointer finger promptly taking hold of your nipple and rolling it between them. He pulls his face away from yours and halts his ministrations altogether, much to your dismay, to take a look back at Stolas. “You watching?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You see how you don’t just jump straight into it? Not that you can’t, but it takes the whole experience up a notch to start with some kissing, some touching, some squeezing,” he wiggles his eyebrows at the last part and makes a point of squeezing your boob once again.

“And what makes you so sure you’re doing it right?” You challenge him. You know he knows you’re only doing it to tease him, but whatever gets him back on you, even if only to prove a point. Blitzø fucking loves proving a point.

“Good question. Let’s see, shall we?” He lets go of your bra, letting it cover you again, and begins trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your ears, your neck, your throat. He pays extra attention to your collarbone before supporting himself up and shifting his weight to his legs, straddling you. He places his hand back on your right boob this time, kneading it over your bra once again, and tugs down on the other bra cup, exposing your left.

He dives right in with no warning. You’re given no time to expect it before he’s licking at you messily, your nipple hardening immediately at the contact. The cool air of the room hits the spit that now covers it as he pulls away and intensifies that feeling even more. You breath hitches.

He takes it a sign to keep going, which it is, and encloses his lips around it, sucking like his life depends on it, and holy fuck it feels good. The moans you’re unable, and honestly don’t care enough about anymore, to contain, incite him to alternate between sucking and licking at your nipple, other hand busy massaging your other breast at a matching pace and tail caressing the inner of your thigh, though that you’re not sure is intentional. It turns you on, nonetheless. Only after a while of it is he sufficiently satisfied before feeling like he needs to continue his ‘lesson’. He lets his teeth graze and slightly pull at your nipple as he pulls away. “Yeah I think I’m doing it right,” he boasts.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Ha! Not yet! I’m teaching Stolas how to eat some pussy first, would you mind?”

You roll your eyes.

“Okay, we could give some more attention to the boobies-”

“Ew, Blitz! What the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t say fucking boobies!”

“It’s what they are!”

“You’re so fucking-” your words get caught on your throat when his tail wraps itself around your upper thigh, squeezing it tight enough to hurt just a bit. It feels good. “Fuck. Insufferable.”

“Can you let me finish? Ha. Finish. Anyway, we could keep on giving some more attention up there, but the lady seems really impatient, doesn’t she? So we can always just go back to that later.” Tail still wrapped around your upper thigh, he moves around from straddling you to opening your legs to make way for him to kneel between them. Wordlessly, he leans back down to kiss at your stomach, and his hands fly to the waistband of your shorts. He tugs on it and asks for confirmation that he can take it off, doing so as soon as he gets it. You lift up your hips to help him out and he discards the piece of clothing by purposefully throwing it directly at Stolas, who looks stunned by it for a second.

You’re sure Blitzø’s next step is to just get to taking your panties off, but, instead, he wraps his hands behind your legs, pushing you to fold them and plant your feet to the mattress, and leaves small bites all over your inner thighs. Your breathing quickens as he gets closer and closer to where you simply need him at this point, but doesn’t get to it. You're torn between yelling at him to just get to it and just enjoying what he’s doing, however torturing it feels. You’re not torn anymore when he gives a rather harsh bite, tugging on the soft, plush skin of your thigh, sure to leave a mark, and decide on your first option. “Will you please get to it already, you fucking-” He knows you were about to insult him, and makes sure to shut you up just before you can, licking a stripe over your panties. “Shit. Yes.”

“The two of you really need to learn some fucking manners, you know? Have some fucking patience!” He scolds, and he tugs on the thin band of the lingerie with his pointer fingers, pleased with how you immediately respond with furious nodding, urging him to just fucking take it off already. He slides the underwear off your legs slowly as he keeps his words directed at Stolas. “Now if you’ve been doing things right, by the time you’re taking the panties off, she should be wet.”

“Not true for everyone,” you quip, and gasp in surprise when he grazes two of his fingers against your entrance, collecting the wetness and bringing them up for Stolas to inspect. It almost makes you want to die of embarrassment.

“True for you, though. You ready for the best head of your fuckin life?”

“Highly doubt it.”

He only sends you a smile, clearly confident, before lowering himself, hands parting your thighs further and wasting no time before licking a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, sending shivers through your spine. You let out a moan. It fuels him on, and he does it one, two, three times again before his tongue focuses solely to your clit, rolling it out in circles a few times. Your hands instinctively go to his head, taking hold of the base of his horns. What he’s doing feels good, but you know it can feel even better, so you guide his head to signal what you want- “Up and down.”

You’re not sure what his response to the demand will be, if he’ll scold you for telling him what to do, but he seems pleased to have you voicing exactly what you want.

He pulls away for a second to comment on it. “That’s it, babe, tell me what you want.” He latches his mouth to your clit again, sucking on it a couple times before releasing it to go back to flicking his tongue at it, up and down this time, just as you urged him, and the feeling of it is heavenly. You assume.

You can feel a faint sign of your orgasm building inside of you as he keeps on for who-knows-how-long, and so it’s beyond frustrating when he pulls away altogether.

“No! What the fuck?”

“Hey, chill out! I gave a little demonstration, now we should let Stolas practice, shouldn’t we?”

As much as you want Blitzø’s mouth on you again, you don’t deny the suggestion, for Stolas is looking at you in such a mix of curiosity and hunger that it makes you crave his mouth on you too.

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Stolas asks you, nervous. “Perhaps I’m not the most qualified to-”

“I’ll guide you, Stolas. Please?”

He only nods, taking Blitzø’s place between your legs. He stares, and it takes a lot of willpower not to close your legs at that. You remind yourself he’s curious, not judging- not only has he never gone down on a woman, the only woman he ever had sex with didn’t exactly have the same anatomy as you did.

“There’s no clothes to take off anymore,” Stolas points out, nervous, as he runs Blitzø’s ‘demonstration’ on his memory again.

Blitzø laughs. “That’s true. You just gotta dive right in. Long as it’s fine with the lady. Is it?”

“Yes.” You feel a little ridiculous in this position, being the object of some sort of sex lesson or whatever the fuck this had turned into, but, as soon as Stolas’ mouth is on you, Blitzø’s hungry eyes staring at the scene, it clicks that he wants to watch the two of you much rather than to genuinely be teaching Stolas anything.

Stolas’ mouth is careful on you and his hands are unsure. Blitzø comes up behind him to place them on your waist, and the prince quickly gets the sign to grip at your sides. You’re surprised when he pulls your body down to him, pressing you to his mouth forcefully as he messily licks at your clit, reminding himself of the up and down motion you’d guided Blitzo into. You want more, more, more.

“Holy shit, Stolas, I want it inside. Please, please, please,” you plead, neverminding the fact he might be confused by the request. It doesn’t even cross your mind as you’re in the middle of it.

Stolas pulls away to turn and look at Blitzø, a silent question of ‘what the fuck does that mean?’ in his semblant.

Blitzø lets out a laugh. “Your tongue, Stolas. She wants it inside her.”

“Oh. Is that right, dear?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes-” he wastes no time in doing as he’s told- Stolas is very good at that, it seems.

He gives your clit a kitten lick before slithering his tongue into your hole and, fuck, fuck, fuck, this is exactly what you wanted. He flicks it inside of you blindly and you can’t help but fuck yourself against it, thrusting against his mouth repeatedly to help him find a rhythm. It feels so good you feel that same feeling bubbling inside you again, your orgasm beginning to creep up again. It stays that way, though, and you realize what you want might be too much to ask of Stolas just yet. “Blitz?”

“Hm?” He’s watching the way you fuck yourself against Stolas’ face intently, barely registering the fact you’re speaking to him.

“Blitz. Your- your fingers.”

“What, birdy not good enough for ya?”

“It’s not that, I want- I want both of you.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Yeah I can do that. Scooch over, Stols.”

Your legs are opened impossibly wider, and Blitzø squeezes himself besides Stolas, who looks lost now. “What should I do?”

“Keep eating her out, yeah? Only difference is I’m gonna be fucking her with these while you do it,” he holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air. Stolas blushes at the implication of what’s to happen and Blitzø runs his thumb over your clit in an achingly slow pace before one of his fingers finds its way into your entrance, wet enough now that it doesn’t hurt, but he does it slowly, still, curling it around for a moment before checking in with you. “Y’alright?”

You hum in confirmation.

“Gonna give you another one, alright?”

“Please just fucking put it in, Blitz.”

He doesn’t make any funny remarks at that, only doing as demanded. He inserts a second finger, and this time around it feels like you need a few more seconds to adjust to it, which he gives you. He curls both of them up tentatively, without moving them from their place, and is pleased with the coarse moan he manages to get out of you.

Stolas takes the noise as a cue to dive right in once again, licking at your clit ferociously. The stimulation feels so undeniably amazing you feel your senses tune out. Blitzø begins a slow pace as he pumps his fingers inside you, curling them up ever-so-slightly, and Stolas matches his rhythm as he gives your clit the attention it so desperately needs, and you faintly register yourself making noises so unhinged they barely sound like you, the knot in your belly threatening to come loose.

And then Blitzø lowers himself up and suddenly they’re making out, with each other, with your cunt, all the while Stolas’ fingers claw harshly at your thigh and the pace at which Blitzø’s fingers move inside you picks up, with him choosing to pump only deeper and deeper inside you instead of pulling his fingers out to insert them back in, and then it all fucking explodes.

The mix between a moan and a scream that you let out could be a sound effect on one of those freakin’ Angel Dust movies.

Blitzø is quick to take his fingers out of you and suck on them as soon as he’s made sure you’ve ridden down your high, and Stolas laps up at the remaining fluid that gushes out of you.

“Holy fucking shit,” you mutter out under your breath, chest heaving up and down.

“Is that a good thing, dear?’ Stolas asks, and you can see he’s fighting a smile.

“Asshole. I know you know what an orgasm is like.”

“Well now I’m fucking hard,” Blitzø says, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to take a look at him. He is. His black underwear, stained with Stolas’ cum on the front, looks impossibly tight.

“What’s that you said about wanting me to feel how perfect his dick feels inside me again, Stolas?”

“Oh, you want-” You take Stolas by the hand and pull him out of the bed with you, pushing him against the nearest wall before turning around with your back to him.

You lock eyes with Blitzø, still sitting on the bed, confused as ever.

He gets up off the bed, now standing, but doesn’t move towards the two of you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Well, what I’m planning doesn’t exactly sound the most comfortable lying down.”

“What are you planning?”

You tug at the back of your bra. “Can you take this off for me, Stolas?” His fingers fly to undo it and you let the piece of clothing fall to the floor in front of you, now entirely exposed. “Aren’t you coming?”

Blitzø wastes no more time, walking over to where the two of you stand in a hurry, taking his underwear off in his way, and your eyes widen at the sight of him completely naked in front of you. Fuck, you need, need, need him inside of you.

“How do you want me?” He asks, and you realize he’s sort of gotten the gist of your plans.

Your turn around, facing Stolas again, body flushed against his. “Oh we’re recreating Stolas’ fantasy right now. Isn’t that what you asked for, Stolas?” You raise a hand to caress his cheek. “I think you said something about me filling you up with my fingers? Is that so?”

“Yes,” he agrees, anticipation visible in his face as your other hand descends over his body slowly, knowing what’s coming next. You stop just before you reach his hole to tilt your head back on Blitzø’s shoulder.

“Then he said something about how perfect you feel inside of him, that I just had to know what it feels like. Didn’t he?”

“Fuck. Fuck, you want me to-” Blitzø doesn’t finish his sentence, voice dying out at the proposition.

“What, cat got your tongue now? Are you a pussy, Blitz?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Prove it then,” you tell him, before averting your attention back to Stolas, finally letting your fingers graze against his entrance. He hoots again, the second time the whole night, and you smile at it. “Look at me, yeah? Gonna give you what you want.” You press your middle finger into his hole and he sighs. You decide to take it slowly for now, circling around his answer, barely a knuckle in, teasing him to your heart’s content.

The grin you sport is quickly wiped off your face as Blitzø parts your legs further apart with his foot and flushes his front to your back, aligning his dick with your hole, and you suck in a sharp breath in anticipation. “You ready?” He asks you, and, with a nod from you, he pushes himself in, inserting just his tip inside of you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, to youself really, as the uncomfortable feeling of the intrusion turns into an uncomfortable feeling of needing more.

“Right away,” he tells you, as if you’d been talking to him, and pushes his whole shaft in at once. Not forcefully enough that it hurts, but fast enough that he’s now fully buried inside you. He relishes in the gasp you let out and asks if he can move.

“Yes, yes, yes-” he begins moving, fucking you from behind at a torturingly slow pace, making sure to bury himself deeper and deeper with each calculated thrust. You insert your finger further inside of Stolas, whose voice gives up on him, inaudible gasps coming out as you match Blitzø’s rhythm in yourself.

Blitzø isn’t exactly known for his patience though, and so it doesn’t take long for his pace to grow more erratic. The end of his tail entangles itself with yours and he holds your hips firmly, pulling them against his. You insert a second finger into Stolas, pressing them in deep, and he grabs your head with both his hands, shoving your face against the fluff of his chest.

“Fuck I knew you had to be nasty, but this? Shit, this is like combining every wet dream I ever fuckin’ had,” Blitzø mumbles as he fucks into you.

“It’s his wet dream,” you let out, referring to Stolas, whose chest muffles your voice slightly, and you make a point out of curling your fingers up, making the prince let out a sinful moan.

“Oh and you’re not enjoying this?” Blitzø fucks deeper into you, harsh thrusts meant to prove a point.

Suddenly, Stolas leans forward, over your shoulder, and pulls Blitzo into a bruising kiss that’s meant to shut the imp up. It works. Blitzø’s hips falter slightly for a moment as he gets used to the change, but he adjusts quickly to it. It’s so incomprehensibly hot, the way they make out over you, their moans meddling with each other’s, the way they pant, the way you can feel they’re as into this as you are.

Blitzø pulls away from Stolas and his mouth goes directly to your collarbone, biting at it, as Stolas sucks at your neck at the same time.

“Harder,” you plead, as you can feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching once again, and the feeling of it coils inside you in such a way that you know it’s going to hit you hard, and you chase your release blindly.

Blitzø smiles against your neck as he complies, fucking into you so impossibly harder, every roll of his hips so deliciously deep it could make you delirious with how perfectly he’s now managing to hit that sensitive spot inside of you. Just as before, you make sure your fingers hit Stolas just as deep, matching Blitzø’s now brutal pace, and the prince trembles against you, clearly close. Blitzø himself can’t even keep pretending he’s as unbothered as he’d like, seemingly also in a borderline delirious state as he aggressively thrusts against you, cursing over and over again under his breath.

“Fuck. Gonna cum, gonna cum-”He finishes first, and he does so with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you as he fills you up. You can feel his legs trembling, but he doesn’t let up his pace until he hears you call out for him.

“Shit. I’m so close- Please-” It must have taken all his willpower, but he ups his pace to match the way he’d been moving earlier, fast and hard, and, suddenly, you’re cumming. Not even just that, you can feel the liquid gush out of you as you squirt, cum dripping down your thighs and coating Blitzø’s cock, and the scream you let out pushes Stolas over the edge right after, too, and you let him fuck himself onto your fingers for a long as he needs to ride out his orgasm.

It leaves all three of you a panting, gross, sticky mess, no sound emitted other than heavy breaths, chests heaving up and down as you come back to reality.

You pull your fingers out of Stolas carefully, and he whines at the loss. Blitzø pulls himself out of you as well, and you bite down on your lip as to not do the same. Tasting Stolas on your fingers is exhilarating, and has you wishing you could go down on him. Later, maybe, you think to yourself, as you realize all of you seem to spent, too fucked out to jump right into another round.

Coming down from your high to the silence that follows has you wondering if you should say something, do something, but leaves you stuck in place, as you have no idea what they usually do when they’re done. In hindsight, you probably should have asked Blitzø earlier- are you even allowed to stay any longer, to provide any sort of aftercare, or do you just clean yourselves up, get dressed, and leave? You don’t want to make things awkward by being the person to ask ‘what now?’ or something of the sort, so you wait for one of them to take the lead.

Stolas thankfully does. “We should get ourselves cleaned up.”

He leaves towards some other door inside his already gigantic room, and Blitzø immediately follows. You stay where you are, feet planted to the floor. Blitzø’s head appears in the door frame. “You coming?”

“Where?”

He utters no word as he walks up to you and drags you along with him into what you realize is a huge, beautiful bathroom. There’s a bathtub in the middle of it, the myriad of candles that surround it the only source of light in the room, and it somehow seems as if it’d just been drawn, steam coming out of the water, which made no sense.

“When did you- how-”

Stolas laughs at your confusion. “I have got some spells under my sleeve, darling.”

Blitzø groans in annoyance. “Yeah yeah, now will you conjure me the fucking thing?”

Stolas’ smile falters for a fraction of a second before he agrees. “Of course, Blitzy, dear!” With a wave of his hand, a fucking shower materializes in a corner of the room.

“Are you getting in?” Stolas asks you, motioning to the bathtub. He notices the confusion in your face. “Blitzy doesn’t like baths.”

“So you conjure him a fuckin’... magic shower or whatever whenever he comes over?” What the hell.

“Well, yes. It’s not half as difficult as it sounds, trust me.” He slips into the bathtub, humming at the welcoming feeling of the hot water. “Do you enjoy baths?”

“Um. Sure. Yeah.” You glance at Blitzø for a moment, not missing the eye roll at the conversation. Oh, whatever.

You get in, and Stolas promptly settles into washing your hair, because what even is reality? It feels nice, though you do wish Blitzø would share the moment with the two of you. You understand why he won’t, but tell yourself it’s fine, and you really want it to be, because the feeling of it is just nice, different from most times you’ve been intimate with anyone. No one’s ever drawn a magical bath for you and offered to wash your hair after sex before, that you’re sure of.

When you’re all half-dressed again, you prepare yourself to bid Stolas goodbye and leave, only for Blitzø to be the first to launch himself back on Stolas’ bed, sprawling over it. Were you staying the night?

What a weird fucking man. Can’t take a bath together after fucking you senseless but invites himself to stay over? In what realm is the latter less intimate? Still, you don’t find it in you to argue, plopping yourself to lie down next to him, Stolas following suit.

You’ll think about it tomorrow.

[. . .]

“What’s got you so happy?” Millie asks you as you get ready to leave for Loo Loo Land, as Stolas has requested you work as security for him during his outing with Octavia, his daughter, which is something you wouldn’t normally do, but he must have offered a lot of money for Blitzø to agree. She’s asked you what your night at the palace had been like, but you hadn’t had the chance to talk to her in person about it yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell her, checking your gun’s cartridge.

“‘T’s probably the dick down she got this weekend,” Blitzø inserts himself into the conversation, and you send him a dirty look.

“Shut the fuck up.”

A/N:I hope this doesn't suck omfg lmaooo and if the last few paragraphs do suck cut me some slack my brain is so fried at this point lol. anyways enjoy.

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