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sexysadie23 · 1 month

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ੈ✩‧₊˚Lady Killer ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rafe Cameron

Tags | Bestfriend!Rafe Cameron x innocent!reader

Synopsis | Despite having moved to Figure 8 on Kildare in your early teens, you never had many friends. Certainly not in the kook academy, the only place you really had the chance to. But upon attending one of your parents’ country club events, the island suddenly doesn’t seem so lonely.

Warnings | Underage drinking and drugs - misogynistic comments (more exciting things to come in the series!)

Note | This is my first time writing a Rafe fic! This will be just a one shot of how these two characters met, but I will be making this a series eventually! I do include certain elements to reader ie. Being an only child and ‘doe eyes’. If you don’t like that - don’t read it! Reader is like so cute and obsessed with Rafe and he’s like wtf okay?

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For a long time, you thought there was something explicitly wrong with you. You’d moved a couple times in your life, so you’d never really had friends which stuck. You were simply just a phase in other kids your ages’ lives, only to be remembered as ‘that girl which was in our grade’.

It was lonely for a while, and you had learnt to find comfort in the little things. Friday nights in watching your favourite movies, reading in the library at lunch, the birdsong on the walk home from school. Yet moving to Kildare seemed to be where your parents finally decided for you set up camp, and you’d sparked an iota of hope that this is where you would find your people.

Your parents were moderately well off, though certainly not as rich as some families seemed to be at your new home. But you had always had the essentials. On top of them however, was a nice home, a vacation at least once a year and never any need for a part time job. After all, being the only child your parents wanted you to focus solely on your studies at the Kildare Academy, otherwise known as ‘Kook Academy’ - why, you didn’t know really.

You’d never had to wear a uniform before. You were so excited though at 14 years old - wearing your mary janes and blazer which was slightly too big. Your pink JanSport backpack which was bulkier than necessary, a Winnie The Pooh keychain dangling off of it.

“Mom, do you think they’ll like me?” The unadulterated hope in your eyes made your mother smile. She worried about you sometimes. With your wide eyes and kind heart, she feared you were too trusting, sheltered for your age.

“Just be your sunny self, sweetie and they will love you.”

But that was not what happened.

You tried, honestly you tried to make friends. Still nothing seemed to stick. People at the academy had been there for years, with it being a relatively small school full of people from Figure 8 with pre-established friend groups and social standing. You’d entered at an age where teenagers were enraptured with what their peers thought of them, and the girls at the school only judged you for your lack of designer handbag or lack of makeup, lack of status - or whatever problem they could seem to find.

You even came back to the gym lockers to change only to find ‘Chanel’ written over the exed out ‘Jansport’ of your bag. Your mother was infuriated, and insisted you use one of her designer bags to fit in.

You denied, however much you wanted to and were somewhat materialistic, you knew they would just call it a fake or find some other way to deface it. You’d simply washed the backpack, and continue to use it until graduation 2 months ago.

Summer vacations were hard for you. When you saw so many others at parties in big mansions or even on the other side of the island, ‘the cut’ as you learned, or people surfing with their friends, it only served as a reminder of your solitude. So much so that you had resigned to reading in your garden, window shopping online or following your parents around.

This included Midsummer’s. It was a sort of soiree to celebrate…well, actually you weren’t sure what. Being rich, it seemed? That’s what it looked like, as you sat there in your pink tulle ankle length dress, flowers woven throughout your hair tied simplistically with a white ribbon. You idly watched, sipping on a bottle of coca cola as your dad talked business with a fellow doctor from the island.

Obviously, there were kids from the academy there. Many of which you had just graduated with, and all of which were ignoring you - or just didn’t realise you were here. You never pondered too much on your friendlessness, looking at the positives in your life rather than the negatives.

The atmosphere at the party was thriving, and you adored the pageantry. One lady in particular, a blonde fussing over a curly haired tween with glasses was wearing an extravagant headpiece which looked like it could poke out your eye. A girl from the academy around your age stood nearby, wearing white with flowers in her hair as well. She looked pretty, but being from the academy you knew to keep your distance.

It was starting to wear you out, the fact that nobody had asked you a question in 45 minutes. Then and there, you’d decided to at least explore the venue, which had waiters and bar staff scuttling in and out every so often.

“Hi- excuse me.” You tap such a boy on the shoulder, and he swings round to meet you with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. “Would you happen to know where the ladies’ bathrooms are?”

He looks somewhat startled, as if he doesn’t actually know what you asked him. “What? Um, sure thing. Just uh- this way my lady.” He nods, in a somewhat boyish way, and leads you to the patio where you follow him through to where the ‘Ladies’ sign hangs on the door.

“Thank you so much, um…” you were selectively shy, but still had manners.

He grins. “JJ - Maybank.” He winks, before he sees something behind you, a blue jacket from whose owner rumbles,

“The hell’s the pogue doing here?”

The blonde smiles at you before dashing off, leaving you to the bathroom where you rearrange the ribbon in your hair and add some extra lip gloss.

You’d hid out there for about 10 minutes, not wanting to return to a party you were already invisible at.

The door to the ladies oscillated as you walk out, determined on telling your parents that you weren’t feeling well and wanted to return home. It sounded better than sitting here, suffocating in your own silence as you watched people from your grade slip each other sips of brandy while they laughed and joked with one another.

You walked past a locker room of sorts, and saw the very same blue jacket from your peripheral before. He appeared to be roughed up: shirt crinkled, a bit of blood on his nose which he held up to the ceiling.

It was curious, but sad to you. Maybe he was bullied like you too? Though you had never been physically assaulted. He looked a similar age to you, but even sitting down seemed much taller. Bigger in general, as his shoulders strained against his tux jacket.

You returned to the ladies and got some tissue from the dispenser. Before entering the locker room, you hesitated. Maybe he would be mean like the other rich kids. But your father’s doctor in you couldn’t let him sit and suffer.

“Hi, are you okay?”

Not looking at you, the boy- man, should you say replies, “God, Sarah I’m fine. Don’t fuckin’ tell dad about this shit alright? I don’t need him hounding me again.” His deep voice reverberated. Despite the harsh language, the smooth drawl was distinct. You liked it.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at whoever he thought you were. “M’ not- I just came to give you this. You look hurt.” At the hand which was pinching his nose, and failing to stop the stream of blood - you shove a bunch of tissues into.

His eyes widen at the sudden handful of tissues and he lowers his head to look at you properly. He looks you up and down, realising that you are very clearly not his annoying sister.

“Oh, right. Sorry, thought you were my sister but uh, I’m a little bit…out of it right now.” He winced as he sniffled and tried to get the words out, happy that the blood seemed to be absorbing and steadily stopping. “Thanks for, you know this.” He said, gesturing with his free hand to his nose.

It was odd. He seemed weirded out that someone offered him help.

Happy that he didn’t tell you to go away like the other people from the Academy, you sat down beside him with a smile. He looked at you as though you were a bit crazy, but you attributed that to the bruise which was forming on his nose.

“You’re welcome!” You gave him your name, excited at the possibility of making a new friend. “What’s your name?”

This man, in the blue tux and white shirt which had splatters of blood on it now, looked increasingly confused at your eager demeanour. His immediate thought was that you wanted to fuck or hit a bump, given his reputation- yet you asking his name dispelled that thought. You really had no idea who he was. He was pleased about that, for some odd reason.

He could tell by your flouncy dress that you were definitely not a Pogue - thank god - but Midsummer’s was an exclusive islander event, so the other idea of being a touron was out. If not a pogue or a vacationer, then who the hell were you?

“I’m Rafe.” He said. The corner of his mouth twitched, finding it comical how he’s leaving his last name out. He needed to figure out if you had an ulterior motive or something. As most girls, even some of his friends- heck even his own father, often did.

You blushed at his eye contact, you’d never seen such a handsome boy.

He sniffled his nose and winced once more, holding his hand out for you to shake. Truth be told, he found this interaction hilarious. It wasn’t often that people didn’t know his name, or who his father was.

“Rafe.” You whispered, testing it out. “I like it.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Do you live on Kildare?” You asked, though you quickly felt stupid because you were pretty sure everyone at this party did.

“Yeah, yeah I do- look are you looking to hit up a bump or something? I don’t got anything on me right now.” He cut straight to the point. As much as he appreciated the tissues, he had to go and fuck up that Pogue.

This boy, he kept leaving you confused. “M’ sorry, I don’t know- a bump?” What was he talking about? You were only trying to help.

“Yeah princess. A bump. Coke?” He asked, looking equally as confused as you are. He couldn’t imagine why someone would wander into the club’s male locker rooms, not wanting anything no less. It wouldn’t matter anyhow, Barry’s been fucking around and sampling a little too much to get any product pushed at all.

You smile, suddenly understanding his generous offer. “Oh no it’s okay! I already got one the bar but I don’t like to have too many because it’s bad for your teeth.” You supplied, ever the daughter of a doctor and a dentist.

Yet Rafe Cameron sat there, rather stunned. He couldn’t figure out if you were stupid or just sheltered. Half the people his age at this party were already high, or certainly on their way there. Either way, he didn’t really have time to sniff that out.

He chuckled at your obliviousness. “O..kay. Yeah uh- look, I don’t really-”

“Ooh, pretty. Can I?” You got distracted easily, by the stacked rings adorning Rafe’s - very manly - hands. Not awaiting his answer, you grabbed his free hand and started spinning a ring round his finger. This particular ring was a class ring, fairly large and engraved with the wheat symbol.

He was very weirded out by how forward you were being. You looked like you were wearing princess peach cosplay : pink flouncy dress, kitten heels which couldn’t be ignored and a melodic voice that was almost soothing. So what the hell did a cute thing like you want from him?

“Most of em’ are heirlooms, you know generational.” He replied. It was like he wasn’t allowed to have his own hand back, seeing as it had become your new fixation. He felt as though he had a phantom limb, it was there but it sort of just had to sit limp until you were done with it.

“Is it real gold?”

“Course it is.” He smirked. He wouldn’t be caught dead with disingenuous jewellery.

“So pretty.” You whisper to yourself again, seemingly mesmerised by such a beautiful design. You blushed at his very masculine (why did you keep fixating on that?) hands, with lots of veins.

“Veiny…” you ran your fingers along one of his many veins. Then you looked at your own and just saw slightly chubby, much smaller than his, hands.

“Why do you have more veins than me?” You wondered aloud.

“Well, I don’t know don’t guys have like - more muscle n’ shit? I play golf sometimes too. Lotta handiwork.” Rafe shrugged. One thing he did not expect at Midsummer’s, a fucking bore fest every year, was to be interrogated about his veins and have his bling closesly inspected.

“Oh! Here? At the country club?” You ask, a glimmer of hope striking your eyes.

“Couple times a week if I can.”

You nodded. Maybe this Rafe could be your friend!! Because, “I just got enrolled at the country club too. My dad says I need to get out more…maybe I’ll play tennis. Or golf! Like you.” You were not one for exercise, but you can’t simply stay at home all day every day.

“I mean- that shit’s more like a guy thing in the club. Most chicks just go to the brunch or the sauna.” He says, being honest. It’s mostly just housewives who like the spa and gym facilities.

That dejected you. “Oh.” You said, looking down and finding his hands again.

Rafe noticed this and felt a twinge of guilt; “But, y’know, maybe you could still try it out. They got teachers n shit to help you.”

He was glad to see the smile return to your face at that. “I dunno. Just need to do something this summer.” Other than reading or dwelling on how your parents couldn’t hang out with you. It was becoming pathetic.

Rafe’s bleeding had finally stopped so he threw the tissue in the trash. “Is my nose all fucked up?” He asked. “My dad’ll kill me if he sees I got in a fight.”

Upon inspection of his face, you realised that he was very handsome. Perfectly symmetrical with a good jawline. “Uh-uh,” you replied. “S’ just a lil’ red. Like a reindeer.”

He smiled at the comparison, looking to the ceiling as he poked and prodded his nose. “Okay, it ain’t broken so that’s good.”

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’d you get in a fight with? Is someone bullying you?” You question with conviction in your voice, full of compassion and sympathy. That made the Cameron smile a genuine smile. Not many people cared or paid mind to his antics. Never had he been seen as the victim before either.

He laughed at the idea of someone bullying him. He was a Cameron - he was untouchable. The scrunch of your eyebrows which indicated your genuine worry for him was rather endearing though.

“Bullied? Nah. S’ just- s’ just these freakin’ Pogues y’know? Can’t trust em’, even on our side of the island.” He shook his head, turning to face you more on the bench. He got viscerally agitated at the mention of these ‘pogues’, whoever they were.

“Pogues?” You question. You’ve lived here for roughly three years and have never heard of this group. Were they a band?

Rafe noted your confusion once more. “Yeah, from the cut. Just a bunch of lowlifes and basket cases. Don’t associate with them, okay?”

You appreciated how he was giving you advice. No one ever really told you the ins and outs of Kildare, so you were grateful for his guidance. “O-okay. How do I know who is a Pogue?” You wondered.

“Well y’know. They’ll prolly try and steal from you. They look roughed up a lot. Not a lot of money on that side of the island.”

“Ohh. Okay. If they’re Pogues then what are we?”

He looked you up and down - yeah you were definitely part of that ‘we’. “I guess they’d call us kooks. Kooks and pogues sort of don’t mix. S’ why they’re on the cut and we’re here on figure 8 y’know. They just forgot tonight to stick to their land.”

Your eyebrows scrunched up, “So the Pogues beat you up? Should I talk to them?”

Rafe Cameron let out a closed mouth laugh as he was becoming increasingly endeared with your naïveté. Moreover, the way you seemed to truly care. Your big wide eyes focused on him as he considered how to answer.

“I mean they tried. You should see the other guy. But uh- nah. Don’t bother talking to them. They’re pretty set in their ways. Don’t bother going to the cut either. Nothing there for a girl like you.” He warned. He could only imagine the ways a guy like JJ Maybank could take advantage of you and your obvious innocence.

“Alright. Thanks for the advice Rafe.” You gave a tentative smile and blush. This Rafe was really handsome. You could tell from beneath his shirt and jacket that he was muscular. The way his thighs strained against his suit. His neck which had veins branching out all over and a prominent adam’s apple.

He nodded while pursing his lips. He went to speak but a figure appeared at the door.

“Rafe man, cmon’ let’s get out of here. Sarah’s ignoring me and the Pogues crashed. We need to go.” A boy wearing a similar suit to Rafe was. He was tall and blonde, but definitely not as cute as Rafe was! Not to you anyways.

“Uh,” Rafe looked at you and then to his friend. He looked like he wanted to say something. “Y-yeah Top m’ coming. Jus’ meet me outside alright? Shit’s in the glove compartment.”

You saddened at the thought of your new friend leaving. You were just getting to know each other!

He turned back to you and assessed you one more time. Doe eyes met his as you waited for him to speak.

“Maybe I’ll see you around huh? At the club or something.”

Your smile gleamed once more as the prospect of seeing Rafe again. He was just so nice and helpful! You were definitely going to have to use that membership now. Your head moved up and down to indicate a shy yes.

He smirked as he stood, looking down as you remained on the bench. From this angle, he looked just so much bigger. Like a predator eyeing its prey as he loomed over you.

“Alright then. Remember what I said, no pogues.” He warned again, sniffing his nose.

You nodded, still not fully understanding but trusting this Rafe guy’s word. He seems smart. “No Pogues.” You echo back, effectively bringing out his boyish grin.

“Okay, good. Good girl. I’m gonna go so just enjoy the rest of the party okay? Be seein’ you.” He said as he exited the room backwards, jutting his chin towards you before taking off entirely.

There was a fuzzy feeling brewing in your stomach. Glee. It was pure, unadulterated glee. What had started out as a boring party had turned into a monumental moment for you. You’d just made your first real friend on Kildare. And he hinted that he would want to see you again! And he was super pretty and muscular and tall! Though you didn’t know what that had to do with it.

You decided that you’d go home and go shopping for some country club outfits. Something to make you look cute, probably pink. You wilted at the thought of actually trying to learn golf, but if it meant you could maybe one day play with Rafe - then you would do it.

You just couldn’t wait.

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Author’s Note : Ahhh! My first fic. I love reader she is just so cute and wholesome like LOL she thinks this guy wants to be her friend. Later in this series she’s really only comfortable w Rafe since he is basically her only friend and is super shy w other people. This was just to set up and show how they met!! I hope you enjoyed :-D

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe obx #bsf!rafe #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #dark!rafe cameron #soft!rafe cameron #bunny girl #bunny reader #innocent!reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fic

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lilbeanz · 30 days

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hello beanz, hope you're doing well! do you have any useless worldbuilding headcanons or jodt facts which are utterly useless or very mildly useful to the plot?

Hello lovely💗 I'm doing well, and I hope the same for you!

And gah! This is such a good ask! Definitely a thinker, too 🤭

The Useful Headcanons:

• The Wizarding World is called the Wixen World because fuck the patriarchy. (And yes, I realise both "wizard" and "witch" can be perceived as gender neutral, but typically, wizards are male, and witches are female (ugh👎))

• There are more magical schools than just eLEvEn, because as a wise man once said:

Take it from Hermione and Draco in GS,ch4:

“There’s around fifty in all of Europe,” Hermione began.

“Another fifty in Asia,” Draco carried on.

“Several in the Americas.”

“A handful of smaller schools scattered across the Pacific Islands.”

“And near a hundred in Africa.”

• Generally, wix are not homophobic, transphobic, or racist. Their prejudice problems revolve around blood and magical creatures.

Historically speaking, the Victorian era really fucked up Muggle society. And, yes, there was homophobic/racist ideology pre-Victorian era (1600s - 1700s), but by then, the magic and muggle world was already at odds with each other (Statute of Secrecy was eatablished in 1692) -- why would purebloods concern themselves with such trivial Muggle bigotry?

• Which leads me to my next worldbuilding point; Paganism. Traditional witchcraft and its influences on both the Wixen and Muggle worlds. Pureblood families are known to celebrate the Wheel of the Year -- equinoxes and solstices etc... Paganism existed before the statute and still exists into the Muggle world of course, which is how Muggles have wicca and the craft. Why Wiccan Muggles gather at Stone Henge for the summer solstice and all sorts. It just makes sense 🤌✨️

• Wolfstar. That's it. That's the whole bullet point. Just. Wolfstar.

• In Pureblood society, there is an unspoken hierarchy. The Malfoys' circle consisted of the Goyles, the Crabbes, and the Notts (and other notable Death Eater names), as well as the Parkinsons, the Greengrasses, and many other blood purist sympathisers.

Draco grew up with Greg, Vince, Pansy, Daphne, and Theo. The coming war will surely test the strength of childhood bonds...

• The divide between Draco and his father means Draco is becoming his own person as opposed to following in his father's footsteps. Draco finds himself striving to be a little more like his mother, and a lot more like himself.

The fire of rebellion flourishes inside him, but how far can he go before the flames grow out of his control?

The Not So Useful & Sort of Silly Headcanons:

• Crabbe and Goyle are not as thick as some people (*cough* Harry *cough*) perceive. Vince is a Transfiguration whizz-kid & Greg enjoys art.

• Pansy Parkinson falls in love very easily, but also very quickly moves onto her next meal -- ah, her next fixation.

• Mad-Eye Moody enjoyed a very relaxed year of his retirement from 1994 to 1995, with absolutely no home intrusions or attacks from dark wix.

• Lucius Malfoy has an unhealthy obsession with white peacocks. Especially his prized darling, Bartholomew Armand Malfoy the Third.

• Dobby has a cupboard specifically for storing all of his socks at Hogwarts.

• Professor Burbage had a groovy flower-power phase in the 70s.

• Harry sometimes finds himself talking to Draco's embroidered portrait on the Black family tapestry at Grimmauld Place.

• Erik, Nikolaj, and Katrina embark on a journey across America after graduating from Durmstrang. In their travels, they may discover many things...

I'm sure there's more! But here's what I can think of off the top of my head! 🥰💕

#jodt #journal of dreadful things #asks and replies #lovely lovely people #LORE DUMP #frothing at the mouth #THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK #💖💖💖#headcanons #harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #lilbeanz #hehehe <3

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

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The Shape of You

Summary: Steven loves your boobs. A story of his devotion to them pre, during, and post-pregnancy as you welcome your first child together.

Pairing: Steven x afab!Reader, with some minor Marc x afab!Reader and Jake x afab!Reader. Reader is married to the system and all three alters are no longer working for Khonshu

Rating: Tré Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 9.4k (yes, you read that correctly 😳)

TW/CW: Heavy breast and nipple play, lactation kink, some awkwardness and embarrassment around Steven and Reader discovering they share a lactation kink, pregnant sex, breeding kink, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, slight somnophilia, daddy!Steven (in both senses of the term 😜), breastfeeding and angst about struggling to breastfeed, postpartum hormones, sundress!kink (that’s a thing, right?), public teasing, a smidge of masturbation, public bathroom sex…so exhibitionism? (no one hears or catches them), more fluff than I’ve ever written iN MY LIFE, titty-fucking, come-eating…writing these always make me feel like a dirty ho 😈

A/N: Sorry friends, the OP got flagged...so let’s try this again with a slightly less steamy gif!

First time writing in second person so please, like Adele, go eaaaaasy on me :) Also I do not have DID, so please forgive and Feel free to educate me if I didn’t nail any dynamics. One more thing - Jake speaks Spanish a bit in this translations will be below

Marc, Steven, and Jake may’ve shared a body, but each alter had a different part of yours that was their favorite. Jake was an ass man, plain and simple. He loved smacking it, biting it, grinding himself between your cheeks…the list could go on. Marc loved your mouth. He never wasted an opportunity for you to suck him off, to feed you every last drop of his cum, to spit into its warm, wet cavern.

Steven, on the other hand, was damn-near obsessed with your breasts. If it were up to him, his hands would never leave your chest. He’d been shy at first, bashful, citing his relative inexperience compared to the other alters. But the endearingly awkward bumbling phase of your relationship soon developed into its current one: The Steven-Can’t-Stop-Won’t-Stop-Playing-With-Your-Tits Phase.

You remember the first time he undressed you and got to see your boobs in all their naked glory. The expression on his face was so reverent it was almost comical. He looked at you as if you’d taken him straight to the Field of Reeds.

“Bloody hell,” he’d whispered.

You asked him if he was alright, to which he nodded frantically and asked, “Can I…can I touch?”

“Of course baby,” you cooed.

From there it was off to the races. Steven cupped your breasts, damn near whimpering when he felt the weight of them in your hands, and gave you a gentle squeeze. You mewled, and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“That was a good sound, I promise,” you assured him. “Please, Steven, more.”

He was all too glad to oblige. He massaged each mound in his hand and swiped each thumb over your nipple, delighting when you shuddered at his ministrations. It emboldened him to experiment further. Steven dropped a kiss between your breasts on your sternum, then tilted his head to mouth at one of them. You urged him on with a breathy cry, and Steven took the signal to suck on your nipple.

Whereas most past lovers of yours had treated your tits as a fun but brief pitstop on the way to your pussy, Steven lavished ample delicious attention on them. And he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did, if the way he was frantically humping the mattress for relief was any indication.

Later, after he’d fingered you to orgasm with a nipple in his mouth and you’d rode him like your life depended on it, Steven murmured to you, “Blimey babe, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your tits.”

***

So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you got pregnant that Steven became even more fascinated with your breasts. They kept growing, almost vulgarly large, and you’d caught your husband flat-out staring at them many a time .

“My eyes are up here, honey,” you’d tease him.

Steven snapped out of it and apologized, “Sorry, love.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you conceded, looking down at your chest, using the insides of your arms to push your breasts together. “Even I can't believe how big they’ve gotten. The baby will be well-fed I guess.”

Steven watched you entranced, his mouth ajar, a bulge in his pants growing. “Uh huh.”

Sex was starting to get tricky as you entered your third trimester, but that didn’t stop Steven from fucking you on your side shortly after your little display. He lay behind you on the bed as he drove his painfully hard dick into your cunt, both of his hands on your tits. You rubbed your clit furiously as he alternated between squeezing them and tugging on your taut peaks.

“Ohhhh, Steven, yesssss,” you moaned.

“Are you close darling?” his lips were centimeters from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on its shell.

“Mmmhmmm,” you whined.

Steven picked up the pace and force of his hips. “Come then love, come for me. Gonna come too, your big titties get me so hard, you feel it, don’t you? So good at taking my cock and growing our baby inside you. Fuck love, yeah.”

That surprised you. Dirty talk was usually a Marc or Jake thing, but you definitely weren’t going to stop Steven as his filthy words hurdled you toward your climax.

“Your boobs are so big, gods, I wonder if they’ll get any bigger? Want ‘em to,” Steven was babbling, his thrusts lost their rhythm. “They’ll spill out of your shirt. Gonna have so much milk–”

You interrupted him with a strangled shriek as your release consumed you. Your pussy spasmed delectably around your lover’s cock, compounded by Steven’s dick pulsing inside of you as he reached his peak. You were so lost in the euphoria, the relief of your orgasm, that you didn’t notice the few drops of fluid that had dribbled out of your left nipple.

It wasn’t until Steven withdrew his spent cock from you and rolled over to snuggle into his side that you noticed him examining his wet fingertips.

“What’s that?”

Steven tensed. “It’s…um, not sure how to put this…I think you leaked a little.”

“Obviously,” you giggled, “The sheets are soaked.”

His cheeks burned. “Not from there, love.”

Mortified, your hands flew to your engorged breasts. You could feel it too. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure it’s normal,” Steven tried to assuage you.

You didn’t answer him, instead, you maneuvered your very pregnant self up and waddled towards the bathroom.

He followed you, not needing to exert much effort to stop you. He captured your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a bloody miracle, growing our baby inside of you.”

Steven’s tender words and touch allowed you to deflate some, yet you withdrew your hands from his grasp. “Thank you honey, it’s just…a lot to reckon with. I need a moment to catch my breath in the bathroom. Alone.”

“Alright love, take your time and I’ll put the kettle on.”

You kissed him softly, languidly, trying to pour all the love you couldn’t put into words into the liplock.

But in the privacy of the bathroom, you crumpled. You were embarrassed. You were ashamed. Because why on earth did it feel so good to have liquid trickle out of your boobs and to come at the thought of how much milk they contained?

Nevertheless, you splashed water on your face and composed yourself, joining Steven on the couch for a cup of tea and an episode of the latest documentary series you were watching together.

What didn’t you know though, was later that night, long after you went to sleep and Steven had stayed up working on next semester’s syllabus for the course he now taught at UCL, your breasts had leaked again.

Steven had noticed when he’d called it a night and was situating himself next to you in bed. The t-shirt you wore one to bed, one of the only things that still fit you, and now had twin dark spots staining the loose cotton.

He didn’t know what to do. Steven didn’t want to wake you, he knew how the discovery would likely upset you again, nor did he want you to awaken and to have soaked through your shirt. He cursed his cock, which had twitched at the previous thought. He tried to ignore the arousal beginning to surge through him, but your tits made his blood rush south.

The best course of action, Steven (and his dick) had decided, was to take care of it for you. He fetched a wet cloth from the bathroom, then pulled the already stretched out v-neckline of the shirt to reveal one of your tits. Steven gently cleaned the peak of your breast, the warm, damp feel of the cloth making you shudder in your sleep, though not enough to wake you. He switched to the other one, and found a small, perfect pearl of milk right on the tip of your nipple.

Steven didn’t know what possessed him - he certainly couldn’t blame this on his alters - but he swooped down and lapped up the milk with his tongue instead of the cloth. The drop was small, which meant Steven couldn’t taste much when he licked your nipple. So he sealed his lips around the bud in hope of getting a taste of the cloudy milk. Before he could, you rolled from your back onto your side.

Your husband knew he’d have to call it a night, but that didn’t stop him from shuffling to the bathroom and rubbing one out, imagining what you’d taste like.

***

Any thoughts of sex flew out the window when Nyla was born. All of your husbands had been co-conscious for the birth, the four of you equally in awe of what your love had created.

You loved your squirmy, wrinkly little girl more than you could comprehend, but the first weeks after bringing her home were rough. Nyla was a few weeks early, so your parents hadn't made it to London yet. There was no sleep. There were a lot of attempts at sleep training, but not a lot of sleep actually happening between you, your husband, and your daughter.

Furthermore, Nyla had problems latching when you fed her. You tried to stay calm, telling yourself that plenty of women went through this with their babies, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d already failed as a mom. Plus, the wildly fluctuating hormones didn’t exactly help you keep your cool either.

Steven, however, was a godsend. He never hesitated when he heard Nyla fussing over the baby monitor, he always had a backup bottle ready to go, he even sang silly songs to your daughter while he changed her. Marc and Jake adored Nyla too, yet you’d noticed that Steven had been fronting the most as of late.

You suspected it wasn’t that they didn’t care for the baby, more that they didn’t trust themselves around a being so small and fragile. The thought broke your heart. You wanted to talk to them more about it…when you had the energy. Which, currently, you guessed would be somewhere around Nyla’s 18th birthday?

Tonight, you’d actually had gotten Nyla to go down at 8:30. You and Steven silently rejoiced while getting ready for bed as quickly as humanly possible. The two of you had already learned to sleep when the baby slept.

It felt as if you’d only laid your head on a pillow for a second when you’d heard Nyla crying through the monitor.

Steven sprung up before you could. “I’ve got it. Keep sleeping.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You were just starting to doze off again when Steven re-emerged with a wriggling, still upset Nyla.

“She must be hungry,” he explained apologetically. “Her diaper wasn’t wet and I tried rocking her for a little.”

You nodded in surrender, reaching under your shirt to unclasp a cup of your nursing bra, then extended your arms for Nyla.

Steven carefully placed her in your hold, then announced “I’ll get you a glass of water, yeah?”

“I’m not thirsty right now,” you told him as you tried to get Nyla to latch. Steven was already retreating from the bed.

“Just in case,” he called from the kitchen.

You let it go, focusing more on Nyla than the observation you’d made that as doting as Steven had been, he was rarely present for when you breastfed. It could’ve been because your sweet husband didn’t want to add any eyes and pressure given your difficulties with it, but you couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion it made him uncomfortable.

Nyla wasn’t latching. Again. When Steven returned, he only needed to take one look at your face to see what the problem was.

“I’ll get a bottle.”

Your face crumpled, unable to hold back the tears, which of course, caused Nyla to cry as well.

Steven rushed back in, and scooped your daughter out of your arms.

“There there, little dove, you’re alright,” he shushed Nyla, expertly feeding her the bottle.

“You’re better at nursing her than I am,” you lamented.

“That’s not true, you fed her perfectly for nearly nine months” Steven objected. “We’ll call the specialist Doctor Slater recommended first thing tomorrow.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Sorry, it’s all these goddamn hormones.”

“Don’t apologize,” he told you, moving to burp Nyla. “You did the hard bit, now let us all help out how we can.”

“Alright,” you sniffled.

Steven rose to take Nyla back to her bassinet, kissing you the top of your head on his route.

You wanted to settle down, you did. You wanted nothing more than to surrender to blissful slumber but a fresh wave of tears came when your breasts began to ache.

Steven came back and his face fell. “What is it, love?”

“They hurt,” you bemoaned. “They’re too full. It feels like my body’s punishing me for not feeding Nyla.”

“Oh darling,” Steven scrambled for his phone on his nightstand. “There’s gotta be a fix for it, yeah? I’m going to see what Google says.”

You passed Steven his reading glasses so he could see, privately reveling in how cute he was as he studied his phone screen so intently. It helped distract you from the soreness in your chest.

“Well, it says the best thing to do is to ‘manually express’ any excess fluid,” Steven read.

“So milk me? Like a cow?” you spat.

Steven put his phone down so he could give you his undivided attention. “Hey, hey, I won’t have you talking about yourself like that. Especially since I have Nyla beat at the moment for being the biggest fan of your tits.”

You cracked a smile. Steven crawled closer to you on the bed, “I know tonight’s been a bit full on, but truly babe, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel better.”

“Oh yeah?” you goaded, watching Steven’s gaze zero in on your still exposed breast.

“Uh huh,” he grunted, then looked up at you. “To be honest…you remember that night a few months ago when you first–”

The night you first leaked. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve erm, I’ve been curious since then about…about your…tasting you.”

“Oh,” you gasped. That explained his skittishness when you fed Nyla. Steven left because it made him horny. Well, that turned you on rather quickly. Postpartum hormones were a trip.

Steven gently cupped your engorged breasts, then groaned. “Will you let me try?”

“Oh-okay.” You batted his hands away so could you strip off your very unsexy sleep shirt and shed your bra.

While you were self-conscious about how the milk stretched the skin of your breasts and puffed out your nipples, Steven looked at them like a kid on Christmas morning.

He spared one more glance at your face, “Just tell me if it’s too much or anything.”

You consented with a nod and then Steven lowered his mouth to your left nipple. He started by tracing his tongue around your areola, warming you up to his touch, then enclosed his mouth around it. You mewled as he began to suck on your teat, the feeling of liquid being pulled out of you foreign and therefore thrilling in this context. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the sensation of Steven steadily sucking at you was overwhelming.

Soon the novelty and lingering sheepishness melted into sheer relief as Steven suckled at your tit. You blinked your eyes open, nearly needing to close them again at the sight of your husband resolutely drinking from you. It sent another shiver of arousal down your spine.

“Feels so good sweetie,” you encouraged him. “Are you–ah! How are you doing?”

In lieu of answering, Steven guided one of your hands to his crotch where you could feel his pulsing length. He was enjoying this too. Good. You gave him a squeeze, which incited a groan that you felt against the oversensitive skin of your weeping nipple.

Steven used his free hand to pluck at your right peak, gently coaxing milk out with his fingers. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of both your heavy breasts being drained. Keeping your hand molded around your husband’s crotch, you buried the other in the dark curls at the back of his head.

Steven’s enthusiasm gave you the confidence to ask, “Do you like how it tastes?”

His mouth still around you, he nodded. At last, he pulled off and mumbled, “Why weren’t we doing this sooner?”

A winded chuckle escaped you as Steven massaged your chest. “Might have had something to do with the newborn.”

“Clearly there’s enough to go around,” he remarked before he turned your attention to your other breast, latching on to your already leaking nipple and going to town once again.

You stuttered out a breathy shriek, instantly worried that it’d wake Nyla. Luck was on your side however, the monitor remained silent. You resumed groping Steven’s dick through his pajama pants, letting the fabric catch on the wet stain his cockhead had created.

Steven moaned at the stimulation and switched to flicking his tongue over your nipples, causing you to tamp down on another yell.

“Ohhhh fuck,” he rapsed, pulling off your breast, “I’m gonna come.”

Steven began humping your hand frantically while he gathered both your tits in his hands and swiftly alternated licking at each nipples. You mewled at the feather-light shifting touch on your puffy peaks, now hardened into points for a good while now.

“Yeah, that’s it, come baby,” you urged him.

No sooner had the words left your mouth did Steven’s cock spurt, soaking his sleepwear and your hand with his seed with a whimper. His head was thrown back, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, and it was in moments like these you understood how your husband and his alters could’ve been avatars for an Egyptian god, because Steven looked absolutely divine.

Once he came down from high, you withdrew your hand, expecting Steven to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and clean himself up. Instead, he shucked off his pants, and went right back to lapping at your breasts, mopping up the milk that had spilled from you as he came.

“Sweetie,” you panted, “you don’t need to–”

“You haven’t come yet,” he whispered from the valley of your tits. He nuzzled the two mounds briefly then reclaimed a nipple between his lips and resumed his feverish suckling.

“Nnnnngh, Steven,” came your delirious reply.

He pulled off for a split-second to ask, “Can I touch you?”

You were still a few weeks out from being able to have penetrative sex again, but you gave Steven the go ahead to slither his hand down to your clit.

Another cry loud enough to wake Nyla ripped from you when his fingers meet your neglected bundle of nerves. You were wet enough to flood the Thames, and Steven wasted no time stroking you exactly how you liked it. Fuck, if Steven sucking on your peaks and playing with your tits felt good, him doing that and rubbing your clit was rapturous.

You began moaning, a tell-tale whine in the back of your throat that meant you were close. Steven switched teats and redoubled his efforts – your orgasm building to its zenith...then snapping and drowning you in pleasure. One last sob escaped you as your release spread through your body, Steven never detaching himself from your breast until you gently pushed him away from oversensitivity.

You both laid with your backs flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in sexed out wonder.

Steven spoke first. “No need to call the lactation specialist, I reckon.”

“Steven!” You exclaimed in a whisper, playfully slapping his arm.

“That fixed it, didn’t it?” he pointed out. “Your tits feel better?”

“Well yeah,” you admitted, “but I still want to breastfeed our daughter. You read all the books and journals along with me, I don’t want to deprive her of its benefits.”

Steven hummed in defeated agreement. You rolled over on your side to caress his face and assure him, “That doesn’t mean you can’t still get your fill.”

Your husband’s face split into a wide smile and he pulled you into a dirty, open-mouthed kiss. It allowed you to taste traces of yourself and your milk’s mild, nutty flavor as you plundered his mouth with your tongue.

Steven cradled you to him, tucking you into his side and the pair of you drifted into the best night’s sleep you’d both gotten since Nyla was born.

When you awoke the next morning, your husband was spooned against your back.

“Mmm, we’re naked,” Marc murmured.

You turned to face him and with a grin, “Fancy seeing you here.” You planted a kiss on his lips. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, mama,” Marc shifted and groaned, “Any reason why I feel weirdly full this morning?”

You blushed. “Well, Nyla isn’t latching still–”

“Still?”

“Still,” you confirmed, “so Steven relieved some of the…buildup I was feeling. With his mouth.”

Marc grumbled, “Just when I thought he couldn't be more fixated on your tits.”

Nyla made her presence known on the monitor before you could say anything else. Marc sat up, but you put a hand on his bare pecs. “I’ll get her. You start on breakfast please?”

He acquiesced with a kiss to your temple.

Marc was in the midst of scrambling eggs and frying sausages when you brought Nyla into the kitchen, “Look who’s changed and dressed and happy to see Daddy!”

Marc beamed, rinsing his hands quickly before you passed her to him. “Hey little girl, I’ve missed you.”

You took over at the stove as Marc walked his daughter over to the couch. He sat down and rested Nyla’s back on the thick, sturdy expanse of the tops of his thighs.

“Now, Miss Nyla Spector, I hear that you’re not letting Mommy feed you,” he began with mock seriousness. “Don’t you know her huge boobs are a gift from Tawaret herself?”

“Marc!!”

***

Things slowly improved after you began seeing Pippa, the lactation specialist your obstetrician had recommended. Nyla now latched the majority of the time and you learned how to keep calm when she didn’t.

Your parents arrived in London too, which also made the care of your newborn a lot more manageable. They did diaper runs whenever you needed, helped with cooking so you and your husband stayed fed, and would watch Nyla so you each could take showers longer than 30 seconds, even nap.

The only drawback was it made you and Steven having what you’d codenamed “Parental Time” a lot trickier. They’d gotten an AirBnb flat around the corner from yours, and your mom especially had a pesky penchant for dropping in unannounced, resulting in a few very close calls of her catching Steven’s head under your shirt.

So you and Steven developed a new routine. On the days he was fronting, after your parents went back to their rented flat for the night, you’d feed Nyla one last time, put her down and then Steven would get his turn at your tits.

To be honest, it happened a lot when Marc and Jake had fronted that day too. Your parents knew about your husband’s DID and had met each alter, but the men tried not to switch in front of them. They figured their in-laws being so accepting of their daughter being married to three men was already enough of an ask that they didn’t want to alienate your parents further. Therefore, if Jake was fronting when they came over in the morning, he’d have possession of the body for the rest of the day, or at least until your parents left.

This was a blessing in disguise you found, since it evened out the time each alter spent with their daughter. All that being said, you didn’t exactly protest when Steven would force a switch late at night to get his mouth on your breasts when you were feeling particularly swollen.

“What is it, cariño?” Jake asked when you padded over to the bed after you tucked Nyla in for the night.

“It’s my boobs,” you told him, trying to massage the ache out of them. “Nyla didn’t eat a ton today so they’re feeling extra hea–”

Jake’s quizzical expression changed into Steven’s unmistakably hungry gaze. “Then come right over here love,” he beckoned you over to the mattress. “And let Daddy help you.”

His naughty words made you whimper and obey him at once. You sat on his lap, where you could already feel his erection growing against your dampening core, and lifted your arms so Steven could disrobe you.

“Missed these titties,” he growled, motorboating his prominent nose in between them.

“They missed you,” you sighed back as he wrapped his lips around a nipple and began suckling.

And what are we, chop liver? A disgruntled Marc asked from their bedroom window.

Jake chimed in from the standing mirror. It was my day to front, pendejo.

I’m the only one who wants to do this, Steven countered in his head since his mouth was full of milk, See how much she enjoys it?

As if to prove his point, you ground down on Steven’s stiff length and squealed at the combination of his thick, hard cock against your pussy and the steady tug of your milk flowing into his wanting mouth.

“Wanna ride you,” you told Steven. “Need that big dick inside me.”

Steven groaned and his hips bucked against you. “You sure you’re feeling up to it, babe?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed feverishly. “Doctor Slater said it was okay.”

Your husband didn’t need to be told twice. He all but ripped off both of your clothes and flipped you back on the bed to prepare you. He slowly fed one, then two fingers into your pussy while he lapped at your dripping tits. After Steven worked you through your first orgasm, you two resumed your position where you sat on top of him.

The two of you went easier than you normally would. As much as you wanted to bounce on Steven’s cock until the sun came up, your body was still on the mend, and your lovemaking consisted much more of your husband grinding into you, finding the perfect angle to rub his pubic bone on your clit while you clenched around him. And of course, his hands and mouth lavished non-stop attention on your puffed out nipples.

While Marc had long retreated to the depths of the headspace, little did you or Steven know that Jake had stayed to watch. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was to watch Steven drink from you, nor should’ve the way you grasped your breasts to squirt some milk on his alter’s tongue when you came, but Jake was intrigued.

***

Just before Nyla turned three months, your parents had convinced you to leave Nyla and go out for lunch with your husband, just the two of you.

You’d agreed at first, positively exhilarated by the thought of an hour or two without thinking about diapers, feeding, and sleep schedules, but now that the afternoon of your lunch date with Steven had arrived, you couldn’t conceive of leaving your daughter, even if it was for a few hours and she’d be with her grandparents.

“She’ll be fine,” your mother insisted. “Nyla-girl knows us now, and besides, didn’t Steven say you’d go to the bistro on the corner? You’ll be five minutes away tops.”

“But I’ve never left her before,” you protested as you tried to feed her. Nyla wasn’t latching, now a rarity rather than the norm. You used it as evidence to postpone your lunch. “See!”

Your mother took her from you, “She’s only doing that because she can sense you’re stressed. Sweetheart, trust me, it’ll be good for you and Marc–”

“It’s Steven today,” you corrected her.

“Right, Steven. It’ll be good for you two to spend some time as just husband and wife. Your marriage is just as important as this little one here.”

“But mom–”

“Now finish getting ready,” she wasn’t taking any buts. “Wear something nice.”

As old-fashioned and misogynistic as the advice seemed, it had been a long time since you’d worn something remotely appealing. It felt good to feel like a human again too. Your styled your hair and applied some makeup too, giggling to yourself that Steven probably wouldn’t even recognize you now that you’d put some effort into your appearance.

You strutted out of the bathroom in a little sundress and wedge sandals, “I’m ready!”

Your dad appeared, “Shhh Nyla’s napping.”

“Sorry,” you lowered your voice. “Where’s Steven?”

“He went ahead to grab you two a table,” he explained. Nyla began to fuss faintly over the baby monitor by the couch, “I’d make a run for it now if I were you.”

Though it felt like there was a physical tether pulling you to where your daughter was fidgeting in her crib, your parents were only here for a few more days. You and Steven had to make the most of it. So you slipped out of the flat as silently as you could.

You felt strangely unencumbered as you walked the thousand or so meters to your favorite little neighborhood spot. The few times you and your husband had left the house, it was almost always with Nyla, which meant you’d brought basically the entire contents of the flat with you. At the very least a diaper bag filled to the brim. With only a small purse for your phone, wallet, and lipstick, you couldn’t help but feel like you were forgetting something.

Any worries you had evaporated when you rounded the corner and caught sight of Steven sitting outside on the bistro’s patio. He’d cleaned up too - his hair brushed and parted to the side like he favored, clean-shaven, and same as you, he’d traded sweats for a pair of trousers and a patterned, short-sleeved button down.

“Hi, handsome,” you greeted him coquettishly as you sauntered over to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“You’re a bloody menace, you know that?” he fumed.

You played dumb, “What do you mean?”

You stretched your arms up and over the back of the chair, further emphasizing your cleavage in your sundress.

The dress was from your pre-pregnancy days. Beyond its fit flattering your post-baby body, you’d chosen to wear it since it also provided solid support in the bust, which meant for once you didn’t need one of your frumpy nursing bras. It was a tight fit however, clinging to your breasts and resting just above where the smooth, creamy skin of your breasts darkened into your nipples. You wore it to drive Steven wild, and it seemed to be achieving your desired effect rather nicely.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?”

“No,” You continued to play coy. “I thought I’d dress up for the first date with my husband after our daughter was born. Feels like a significant moment for us as parents.”

“You want me to say it.”

You leaned over the table to prop your ribcage on your forearms, giving Steven a new, even better view down your dress. “Say what, my love?”

Steven whimpered, straight up whimpered, a sound you’ve never heard him make outside of the privacy of your bedroom.

You were on the verge of showing him a bit of mercy when your server appeared. “Mr. and Mrs. Grant, nice to see you! How’s the new baby?”

“She’s good, thanks” you grinned at them.

“Lovely. Would you two like something to drink?”

“Yeah, we’re both pretty thirsty,” you replied, kicking Steven’s ankle under the table to tear his eyes off your bosom. “Steven, what would you like?”

“Uhh, tea, please.”

“‘Course,” the server noted. You and Steven were regulars so he knew your husband’s order. “With cream and sugar, right?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. It took another kick to his angle to elicit a proper response from Steven, “Yes, please. Thank you.”

“And for the Mrs.?”

“Just water please, and one for him too. Thanks Alex,” you told them with a smile. Once they departed from the table, you turned your focus back to Steven. “Wow, you really like my tits in this dress.”

Steven glared at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it’d make you this frustrated,” you apologized. “I thought we could use a break from the baby talk of it all, concentrate on the two of us, remind you of the person who made you and the other boys want to have Nyla in the first place.”

He took your hand. “You look bloody gorgeous, and yes those were quite instrumental in creating Nyla if I recall correctly.”

“I can run back home and get a sweater,” you offered, “if they’re too distracting.”

Steven squeezed your hand and rumbled, “Don’t you dare.”

“Then you’ll behave yourself?”

Steven sent you a mischievous smirk and a shrug.

And for the majority for the meal, he did. While it was impossible for your conversation not to include Nyla, you two did manage to discuss other topics. Steven got your thoughts on the changes he was thinking of making to his course at UCL for the fall semester, you mentioned a new restaurant you wanted to try, and the both of you brainstormed baby-friendly places to spend Steven’s fall holiday if Marc and Jake’s schedules also allowed.

Throughout the meal however, you noticed Steven barely touched his tea. That was odd for him, since he downed no less than six cups a day.

“Hon, are you alright?” You inquired after Alex cleared your plates and settled the bill.

“Never better, why?”

“You had like two sips of your tea,” you noted, “What, did they change their stock?”

“No,” Steven replied without elaborating.

“Then what is it? “

“It’s the creamer,” he confessed with a suggestive look in his eye. “I’ve developed a taste for something a little sweeter.”

You felt yourself flush. “Steven,” you warned him.

“Come on, babe,” he pleaded, “you can’t wear that dress and expect me to wait until tonight.”

He had a point. You’d spent all of lunch teasing him. “But where would we go?”

“Bathroom.”

“Together?”

“You go first, I’ll follow you and knock three times so you know it’s me” he instructed. “Then if anyone asks, I’ll say you’re having ‘a new mother moment’.”

“What the hell is ‘a new mother moment’?”

“Dunno, but no one will ask anything more if I tell them that.”

“We can’t get caught, I really like this place, Steven,” you cautioned, “I don’t want Alex and the staff here thinking we’re perverts.”

“I don’t think anyone will blame me after seeing you parade around in this little dress all afternoon,” Steven pointed out. “Besides, that’s up to you darling, as my mouth will be occupied.”

You cursed the hot shiver that slid down your spine at his words. You rose from the table. “Five minutes.”

Steven nodded, a tad too emphatically.

“Be cool!” you whisper-yelled before disappearing inside the cafe.

Thankfully it was a small bistro, so they had only one bathroom, so Steven couldn’t accidentally get the wrong door, plus the lunch rush was over, which reduced your chances of being interrupted.

You locked the door behind you, and found yourself giddily pacing the length of the small loo. After checking your reflection in the mirror, you planned how you wanted Steven to find you.

You decided to keep your chest covered for now and let your husband ‘unwrap his prize’ so to speak, so you opted to step out of your knickers and tuck them into your purse. Next, you hiked up the skirt of your dress and began touching yourself. Fuck, you were wet. Maybe this little rendezvous wasn’t only for Steven’s benefit.

Three raps on the door sounded and you lunged to open it as quickly as possible and resume the lascivious tableau you’d created for Steven to discover you in. You managed to swing it, sinking down on the closed toilet seat and fondling your pussy while Steven slipped in and locked the door behind him.

“Shit,” Steven exhaled at the sight of you.

“You going to stand there all day and make me get myself off?” you challenged him with a playful lift of your brows.

Your husband pounced on you, caging you into his grasp and then drawing you into his lap, where you could feel his already throbbing erection. He yanked down the straps of your dress as once, your tits tumbling into view, already dribbling from your lust. He dove right into your cleavage, his tongue tracing the rivulets of milk that had trickled down your skin.

Meanwhile, you made quick work of his belt and fly, eagerly fishing Steven’s length out of his boxer-briefs and giving him a few tugs. You took a moment when you lined yourself up to sink down on his cock, slipping his head back and forth to feel your slick.

“Were you not wearing knickers this entire time?” Steven asked before latching onto a nipple.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you hedged, figuring that the ambiguity would only rile him up more.

He groaned deeply around your tit when you sank down on him, while you bit your lip to muffle your own moan. You two worked in tandem to draw your bodies together, the force of your coupling causing Steven to have to pull off of your breast. That didn’t stop him from drinking from you however, he simply grabbed both of your tits and contracted his hands to spray your nectar into his mouth.

It was Steven’s new favorite thing. He liked to switch, drinking a splash from each nipple, and you were a fan of this technique too, since it meant he could talk dirty to you while he consumed you.

“Taste so good,” he mumbled after swallowing a squirt. “Ugh, wanna milk these jugs into a glass so I can have you anytime.”

You dug your fingers deeper into the meat of Steven’s shoulders and keened. This was some of his naughtiest stuff yet. Getting off on the impropriety of your situation seemed to be doing the trick for both of you today.

“So bad daddy,” you gave it right back to him. “Looking at my titties all while I’m trying to eat, thinking about eating me.”

“Don’t play innocent,” he retorted. “Stuffing your big boobs into this flimsy dress. I know exactly what you were trying to do to me. Is that what you wanted? For me to pound my cock into you while I suckle at your tits?”

He punctuated his question by doing just that, flicking his tongue over one of your weeping nipples and latched on to coax your milk into his mouth faster.

“Yesssssss,” you moaned. You added a swivel to your hips for good measure. “Ohhh I wanna come.”

“Yeah? Then rub that little bud of yours, come all over my cock,” he provoked you.

You did just as he said, maneuvering your hand around his that were still attached to your boobs and worked frenzied circles over your clit. Your release hit you less than a minute later, your fingers providing the last push over the edge, where the novelty of the location and desperation for each other had brought you there quicker than usual.

You kept impaling yourself on your husband’s dick. He was close too, you could tell from the little cries he let out around your breasts that took on a borderline forlorn tone, as if Steven didn’t want to come yet, he didn’t quite want your fucking to be over.

Steven was no match for the heat of your cunt and the sweet creaminess of your teats however. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you even closer to him, and planting his face in between your boobs as his cock gushed inside you.

A few moments of silence transpired between the pair of you, save for your heavy breathing, then Steven slowly and gently extracted himself from your core.

“I can’t believe no one interrupted us,” you marveled.

Steven nodded from where he stood by the sink to wet paper towels to clean you both up. “Lucky, innit?”

“Thank you honey,” you said softly when we passed you paper towels for your breasts and slit. “We should be getting back.”

You tried to think of something else to say, but when you and Steven looked at each other, the two of you simply burst into a fit of giggles in disbelief over what you’d just done.

“You could ask me for anything now and I’d say yes, I reckon,” your husband joked while you two switched spots in the small bathroom. You checked your appearance, smoothed down your hair, and prayed that people wouldn’t be able to see how fucked out you felt.

“You and the other boys already gave me everything I could ever want,” you turned away from the mirror to gaze straight at Steven. “A beautiful, healthy baby, and a trio of loving fathers to raise her with.”

“Awwww, darling–”

“Jewelry would also be nice,” you swiftly added. You found the idea of a “push present” too transactional, having a baby was both your and your husband’s idea thank you very much, and you knew what you were signing up for. In fact, you’d fiercely wanted it. But something sparkly had caught your attention recently. “There’s this stunning gem bracelet I saw on the Tiffany website that would go great with my eyes. I’ll send you the link.”

Steven rose from the toilet seat and crowded in behind you. He sprinkled a few kisses on your neck, then locked eyes with your reflection. “Whatever you want.”

***

Marc and Jake didn’t protest when Steven mentioned he purchased you the Tiffany bracelet, work had been steady for all three of them, and you had a solid maternity leave package.

“Besides, think of how much we’ve saved on groceries now that every night Steven eats local for dessert,” Marc quipped.

Steven had fucked you in full view of the mirror to get back at him for that, using every trick in his book to show how much you enjoyed him enjoying your body.

Though drinking from your tits didn’t really appeal to Marc (truthfully he had no qualms with it, despite an offhand joke here and there), Jake was different. He hadn’t forgotten the look of elation you wore on your face that time he watched you and Steven fucking while he tasted you.

His chance came a week after your parents had left. Nyla was soundly settled into her sleep schedule, and things didn’t feel quite as chaotic as they had when you first brought you little bundle of joy home. You two were lying on the couch, watching a trashy reality show after folding a load of laundry while Nyla napped.

“Ugh, shit,” you swore, seemingly out of nowhere.

Jake clicked off the TV. “You okay querida?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I leaked again,” you took the pads out of your bra. Jake couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “I’m just pissed because I thought I was done with this.”

“Lo siento, mami.”

You rose from the couch.

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower,” you told him. “Warm water helps ease the ache.”

Jake caught your hand. “Wait.”

“What?”

“No”, Jake barked at his reflection on the dormant television screen, then furrowed his brow. You recognized it as the look he made when he tried to stave off a switch, “I want to help.”

“You do?” you asked carefully. “You do know what Steven usually does to relieve the pressure?”

“Si mami,” he reiterated. “I figure if Steven likes it, why wouldn't !?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’ve seen you eat two burgers in one sitting and Steven’s a vegan?”

Jake waved a hand as if to swat the implication away. “That’s different.”

You weren’t convinced. “How so?”

“Because Steven and I share a taste for you.”

“Okay,” you watched him cautiously as you sat back down, “We can stop if it’s too weird for you.”

“Please,” Jake scoffed, climbing over you and pinning you down onto the cushions. “They’re your tetas and they’re still so big. And you know I’m the kinkiest one out of all of us.”

“Bien bien Papi,” you surrendered. “Show me what you got.”

Your husband hastily rid you of your clothes. When his mouth first made contact with your pearly nipple, a hearty groan resonated in his chest. He’d held the warm, heavy weight of your post-baby tits many a time, but this was something entirely different.

“Mmm, mamacita, su leche es tan dulce,” he switched to the other peak, already getting drunk off your milk, “no wonder Steven didn’t want to share.”

***

Your family’s fall holiday came together more smoothly than you’d anticipated. Steven’s students were on holiday, Jake took time off from the limo company he owned, and Marc was between consulting jobs.

You were still on maternity leave, but planned on returning to your job in the new year. This time was precious - it felt like the end of a chapter, the last hurrah, the eve of “what comes next”.

So you and the boys rented a seaside cottage in Cornwall. Though you were anxious about Nyla and the four-hour car trip, she was a champ. It turned out that Jake was the one you needed to worry about, nearly veering off the road when he caught a glimpse of you feeding Nyla in the backseat. Apparently your daughter wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hungry.

It was past the busy season, so the little village you were staying in was quiet, exactly what you’d all wanted. You pushed Nyla’s stroller around the sleepy high street, hoping the serene location would ease the blow of what you needed to discuss with Steven.

“Solid foods.”

“Yes,” you confirmed, “We’ve waited long enough to start her on them. I don’t want her to fall behind “

“So no more breastfeeding,” Steven spoke slowly, deliberately.

“Yeah.” you tried to soften the blow. “But not right away, it’s a process.”

Steven looked at you like a kicked puppy, but ultimately he wanted what was best for his daughter. Trying to look on the bright side, he remarked “Well, there’s always the next one.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, storminess flickering behind your eyes. “This one–” you pointed to Nyla, “--needs to be potty-trained and eating solid foods before any of you–” you jabbed your finger at him “--in there can even begin to think about the next one.”

Steven immediately squeaked out a “Yes ma’am.”

“I freaked out,” you acknowledged. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright love,” Steven comforted you, affectionately bumping his shoulder with yours. “You have to do the hard bit after all. Feels like it goes without saying, but we don’t want another until you’re ready.”

“I know,” you exhaled. “It’s been a lot. And as only you could, you turned my struggle with breastfeeding Nyla into a way for us to celebrate being new parents, when it could’ve sent me straight off the deep end. I can’t tell you how much it means…I was so self-conscious about my body after giving birth, and you–Jake and Marc too–but you especially made me feel desirable when I was afraid I never would again.”

Steven drew you into a misty-eyed kiss. “I will always desire you. If anything, your post-pregnancy self is the hottest version of you so far.”

You preened from his praise. “You’re a good man, Steven.”

The week you were spending on the coast also marked your anniversary with Steven (each alter had their own “relationship anniversary” with you, though the four of you shared your wedding date).

As gracious as he’d been earlier, you knew Steven was gutted about you weaning Nyla off the boob, so you intended to do something special for him that night.

You knew he’d spoil you, and your husband didn’t disappoint. Steven ordered takeaway from one of the nicer restaurants in town, setting up a candlelit dinner in your AirBnb cottage so you two could commemorate the evening without having to leave your daughter with a sitter. The Tiffany earrings that matched your bracelet though were a pleasant surprise though.

For your gift, you’d encased his favorite photo of him and Nyla in a frame where you also made imprints of her little hands and feet.

“For your desk at uni,” you’d elucidated when he unwrapped it.

“Darling,” he whispered in awe.

Steven’s dinner also included a bottle of very nice wine, which led to you making out like randy teenagers on the couch after your meal.

“Are you ready for part two of your present?” you queried breathlessly.

Steven looked up from the spot on your neck he’d been nibbling on. “There’s a part two?”

You assured him with a flirty little nod. “See, there is one more thing I want you to do to me while I still have these.” You grasped your tits and pushed them together with your palms.

Your husband’s eyes widened and his hips jerked underneath you. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, you climbed off of him and led him to the bedroom. Your gaze kept dropping to the tent Steven’s turgid cock made in the dad-trousers he wore long before Nyla had been born. You found the view just as lewd as it was invigorating.

Once you hopped back on the bed, you ordered Steven not to move a muscle, and peeled off the rather modest loose-fitting dress you’d worn for dinner to reveal the lingerie you sported underneath. The skimpy set consisted of a mostly sheer bustier that embraced just how obscenely big your boobs remained and a tiny, strappy thong.

Your husband’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Fucking hell, babe. You look incredible.”

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” your voice was lilting. “Now remember, stay there, and no touching”

“What are you going to do?” he whispered with a mix of crippling arousal and a perhaps a hint of fear.

You palmed your mounds once again, squeezing them to urge more milk to spew from your teats. Breathy little gasps and sighs stuttered out from your lips as you soaked the thin mesh of your bustier, you wanted to put on a show for him.

Steven’s hand crept down to his crotch but before it could reach its destination you snapped, “Hey! I said no touching.”

“I thought you meant you,” he whined.

“Nope,” you quipped, popping the ‘p’. “You’ll get your chance soon.”

“When?”

“Hmmm,” you glanced down at your chest and rib cage that was now bathed in your own milk. “Think I’m slippery enough?”

“Uh huh,” came Steven’s articulate reply.

“Okay then,” you leaned your arms back on the bed, “Now fuck my tits.”

Steven’s knees threatened to give out. He caught himself and what he said next was a bigger surprise than the earrings. “Alright, mommy. But I wanna get my prick wet in your pussy before I stick it between your knockers.”

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. Where the hell had sweet Steven gone and how did he learn to talk like this? Two could play that game. You fiddled with the straps of thong. “Then come over here and move these panties out of the way.”

Steven jumped you, knocking you back on the bed, too impatient to get inside you to properly deal with your scanty underwear so he did exactly as you’d prodded, he pushed the crotch of your thong aside and sunk two fingers into your sopping pussy.

They went in without much resistance, thus Steven only felt the need to drive them into you a few times, curling them against your g-spot for good measure. He licked off the residue of your desire from his digits and proceeded to tear at his own clothes until he was naked.

His eyes were wild, wilder than you’d ever seen them, as Steven notched the head of his angry-looking erection at the opening of your cunt and sheathed himself in one fluid stroke. You cried out while Steven groaned, your husband wasting no time to start hammering into you.

Every forceful push of his hips punched a “uh” from you, his unrelenting pace stringing them together in quick succession. He couldn’t stop watching your tits swing freely and the copious amounts of milk spill from them. His orgasm mounted in his groin sooner than expected, which propelled him to wrench his dick from your folds and grip the base tightly. Steven wasn’t coming anywhere except your tits.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice gravel as he clumsily scooted up your body to straddle your bosom.

“Please daddy.”

Steven advanced with a goddamn growl, positioning his cock between your milky tits and plunging his length in between them as you held your breasts together. It was nasty, your milk mingling with your juices and his precum, all spread across the expanse of your chest.

Yet the years of love and trust you and Steven had fostered with one another allowed you both to succumb to the kinkiness of the sex you were having without shame. It had taken a hell of a lot of communication and vulnerability for you to get to here, so yeah, you were going to revel in the slick sound Steven’s cock made as it slipped between your tits, the way his face was contorted with pleasure and concentration, how his hands had fallen on top of yours to create the suffocating channel for him to fuck his rock-hard length through.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this meant you were going to have to be this slutty for all of your husbands’ anniversaries, but the thought was kicked out of your consciousness when Steven removed his hands from the top of yours to pluck at your nipples.

A primal sound of pleasure tore from your throat that also ignited your competitive streak. You tilted your neck up and opened your mouth so that the tip of Steven’s cock could brush against your tongue on every drive of his pelvis.

The kitten licks were what did him in, Steven orgasmed with a roar and raised himself higher on his knees at the last possible second to paint your boobs with his seed.

“Oh. My. Days.” Each word required their own breath from your winded husband, now speaking his normal register once again.

“Yeah,” was all your scrambled brain could add before you tried to squirm away from Steven’s tongue on your sternum.

“Please, love,” he nuzzled the one patch of skin on your torso that wasn’t doused in some form of bodily fluid. “Wanna taste us.”

“Fine,” you submitted. “Be grateful I can’t move.”

Steven hummed happily, getting a total of three sweeps of his tongue across your torso before Nyla’s fussing echoing down the cottage’s small hallway.

“Perfect timing, as always,” you groused.

“Ehh, she could've announced herself a lot sooner,” Steven countered. “Hey, you didn’t come.”

There was your Steven, ever the gentleman and egalitarian in the sack. “Honey, if you go take care of her and let me shower right now, we can call it even.”

He pecked your cheek and hopped to. “Only if you let me make a cup of tea too.”

“‘Kay,” you said as he pulled on his, well technically Marc’s, boxers and headed toward the door. You, on the other hand, set yourself the task of maneuvering to the en-suite without dripping everywhere and being kicked off of AirBnb.

“Hon?’ you looked to where Steven watched you from the doorway, ignoring Nyla’s fussing for one more minute. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am sweetheart,” you assured him. “My pussy’s going to be wet for days after this.”

Steven grinned, remarkably sweetly for a man who’d just come all over your chest. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” you parroted.

Read the follow up fics : Close Encounters of the Maternal Kind and First

A/N: Writes nearly 10,000 words of lactation kink and *takes myself to horny jail*. Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to let me know if you enjoyed!

Also I wrote this in less than a week, isn’t that terrifying?! Leave it to the moon boys to inspire my to write obscenely long and dirty fics.

My weird little headcanon on the reader and Nyla’s surnames are the on paper and official documents, you use Spector, but casually and in social situations you use the last name of whoever’s fronting.

Translations:

Pendejo - Stupid/Idiot

Querida - dear

Lo siento mami - I’m sorry, mommy

Si mami - Yes mommy

Tetas - tits

Bien bien Papi - okay, okay Daddy

mamacita, tu leche es tan dulce - little mama, your milk is so sweet

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knights-unwelcommentary · 30 days

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To write Karkat in an engaging way I think it also helps to consider what phase of his character we're trying to write, there are several landmarks along the story that can be a good reference. Here's a list with some of my observations

Pre sgrub: He really wants to make it big, but is kind of lost about how to do it. He's pretty inexperienced at life and compensating for his insecurities by being excessively mean and posturing a lot

Sgrub: Milking his chance to do something important for all it's worth but being unable to get people to take him seriously, being starstruck by Slick, bonding with his friends in a constructive way for the first time, feeling guilty about Sollux's first death, overworking himself

Post sgrub: The shortest power trip in history, it takes a while to process that the rug got pulled from under him and while he does that he's split between being smug because of how it started and self-recriminating because of how it's going. He's scattered and kind of unreasonable and trying to keep things from falling apart even further but getting easily distracted by petty stuff. He's also running on empty after not sleeping for almost a month

Post murderstuck: Guilty and bitter about everything that went wrong but not being allowed to grieve properly because he's still seeing the people his incompetence got killed in the dream bubbles. Gave up on his goals so hard that he really has nothing left to focus his energy on except himself (past and future) and what could have been with Terezi (which ends up becoming a really unhealthy obsession about her relationships)

Post murderstuck post retcon: Starts the same as the previous point but gets derailed by shenanigans and things going alright despite his giving up, so he's starting to realize that he gave too much importance to his place in the world and not enough to doing right by his friends. He's still pretty depressed about his failures but there's still hope to make up for it eventually

#homestuck #karkat vantas

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iveneverdoneanythingwrong · 11 months

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This line. This one line for me colored all the rest of Porsche's journey in this show. This one line really grabbed me and percolated in the background of my mind throughout the rest of the series, because, seriously?? Who says that to their kid? Why make it obvious that you have a favorite child? Porsche was 10 when the "accident" happened so not only did his mother say this to her child, she said this to her prepubescent sponge of a child who will internalize just about everything.

As the rest of the series goes on, this is the line that made me think that Porsche and Chay are actually half brothers (or at least everyone but them thinks they are, including Nampheung). Bear with me here:

For context, this line came right after Kinn asked about Porsche's tattoo, and Porsche says that his mom liked phoenixes and that she talked about them all the time.

This context adds an element of rebirth to her directive not to "die" until Chay has graduated. Before the "accident" Chay was much too young to take in anything from such talk, so the phoenix imagery was directed solely at Porsche. So what "death" and "rebirth" was Mom expecting for her eldest?

The easiest explanation for this is that (only?) Porsche's (assumed?) father was in the mafia. We only get two real examples of Porsche's relationship with his mom pre-mafia-events and they both revolve around phoenix imagery: the sauna scene, and the memory scene where she tells him to "Grow up and fly with freedom, be strong and immortal like a phoenix."

When she talks to child!Porsche she talks of being strong, being free, of dying and rebirth. She's preparing him for the trial of being hunted/taken by the mafia. She's instilling the yearning for freedom, and the idea that no matter how hard or how bad it gets (death), it won't last forever (rebirth). In telling Porsche not to die until Chay has his degree, she wasn't suggesting that Porsche is worth less to her than Chay. I think what she's asking is that no matter what happens, Porsche should try to make sure that Chay is set up for a good life away from the mafia. Porsche cannot die (be subsumed by the mafia) until Chay finishes his degree (is independent of the mafia). Because no matter what happened to her, the mafia would be coming for Porsche sooner or later. Which they did. And they did only come for Porsche.

Being half brothers would help explain the way the mafia was completely focused on Porsche and only treated Chay as an information source on Porsche/hostage for Porsche's behavior. Korn only mentions Chay as part of the deal for Porsche to work there (ep1) or as a carrot after punishment (ep5). Because he was important to Korn as Porsche's brother, not as Nampheung's son. If Korn's and Gun's obsession with Nampheung was the reason for bringing Porsche in, then they would have done the same with Chay.

(Is it possible for Korn to also already have other plans for Chay? Absolutely. That fucker is a fucker. But once he had Porsche he said that all the pieces were in place. Chay had not been secured as a piece on the board.)

(Also, I don't think Chay's age would be a barrier for Korn/Gun; they're not waiting for him to get older before doing to him what Korn did to Porsche. For one, Macau goes to the same school Chay does. For two, Chay is at least 18 and applying to university. I don't think a year or two will phase the mafia. Especially since Vegas' goons had no problem kidnapping him, twice!)

Porsche was deliberately hunted, kidnapped, and manipulated into the mafia because of who he is. Chay only experienced any of these to the extent he did because of his relationship to Porsche. Nampheung knew that the mafia really had no inherent interest in Chay, and that Chay could be permanently Out of the mafia (except, you know, for him stalking crushing on Kim who is also wrong in thinking you can get out of the mafia).

So if the interest from Korn/Gun in Porsche is not from being Nampheung's son, then why? Why does Korn want Porsche working there and being happy? Why does Gun want Porsche to switch sides and come to Gun for "protection"? Who do they think Porsche is?

In semi-related meta, this also makes me think that Porsche's dream is not so much A Bar on the Beach specifically, but that it represents the freedom to live for himself. He specifies a private beach, where he opens when he wants, closes when he wants, and serves what he wants. Where his actions aren't constrained by other people at all. He took Nampheung's directive to heart and has been living his entire life for Chay. He only had a few more years to go for Chay to get his degree, for Porsche's life to be his own. But then he was kidnapped by the mob to live the rest of his life for them.

#kinnporsche #kpts #kinnporsche meta #kpts meta #my meta #porsche kittisawat #porsche pachara #chay kittisawasd #porchay pachaya #namphueng kittisawat #kprewatch2023 #i've been meaning to write this for over a year #me? procrastinate? noooo

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lovelykhaleesiii · 11 months

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“have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it.”

for aegon, obviously 🥹🥹🥹 i’m just obsessed with this man. i just want him to talk her through it ksjshs

Aegon ii SMUT Prompt #2

pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x wife!fem!Reader

warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, p in v sex, size kink (?), swearing, NSFW.

a/n - apologies I was slowly starting to doze off writing this, so forgive me if there are mistakes, I will come back to them to edit!

smut prompts - for Aegon ii | Aemond

Upon hearing of your haste betrothal to Prince Aegon, the Second of his Name, you were fuelled with twisted emotions of both excitement and fear. Many ladies and men of the court had much to say about your husband to be, the good, the bad and the ugly, especially the young maidens…

“The Prince is known for his peculiar tastes and insatiable drive to fuck.”

“He’ll fuck anyone that has a nice pair of tits or an eager cunt...Or both, if he pleases.”

“Apparently so, the Prince’s cock is said to be twice as thick as that of an average man…”

Nonetheless, all the ceaseless babbling and ramblings of your betrothed sent your mind into a frenzy. Right up until the last minute, you were desperately trying to milk every fine detail of Aegon and his sexual proclivities, from the young maidens of court. Anticipating the truth…

The wedding a success, not a single flaw or adversity faced. The plans and effort that went into the royal wedding went accordingly, almost as if it was destined to be… You’d spoken to Aegon briefly in fleeting moments where you found yourselves immersed in each other’s company, and much to your surprise [and relief], he seemed rather withdrawn and reserved. Still polite, he openly would refer to you as his “wife”, held your hand without hesitation and even went so far as to initiate kisses. All publicly of course, for since the day has began, you’d both been the centre of attention. That was until the night of consummation was upon you.

Aegon decreed that no witnesses be present during the act itself, it seemed he did not think an audience necessary, and many entrusted that he would certainly get the job done. This only worried you once more, until your maidens that had prepped you for the night would reassure you otherwise.

Regardless, the moment Aegon had stepped in following you from the celebratory feast, confidence mindlessly oozing from his stride, his fave remained stoic and yet his eyes lusting over the sheer material that draped and cloaked your body.

You wouldn’t have been surprised if he could just feel the nerves palpating from your body. After all, you were a maiden as expected… However, he did not seem phased by the night at all, nor that he was hesitant in stripping himself naked just before hist waist [keeping his pantaloons on, yet undone], and ripping apart your nightly gown.

You could make out a fairly large bulge beneath the restricting material of his pants between his thighs. The shape and the mould of it, recognisable, it looked painfully big and dense.

As if he’d caught you in the act of perving at his hardened cock, a smirk brewed across his handsome face, as he teasingly questioned, “Like what you see?”

[Indeed you did]

No words could fathom in your mind, nor could your mouth coordinate to speak. Instead, you exchanged a shy, meek nod of your head, as he gently laid you down on the smooth, silk linen sprawled across the plush bed.

“Such a good girl for me. My pretty wife, already so obedient for me. Seven Hells, have the Gods blessed me abundantly with you.”

Pulling his pants down low enough, his thick, solid cock plunges out, bursting with excitement at the sheer thought of fucking you. Hard undoubtedly, as he presses it down against the low, soft pit of your stomach, oozing pre-cum at its throbbing tip, as he gently polishes it over your skin, now glistening in the dim light.

Although, sparing a few seconds to gaze upon his cock, you notice just how thick and girthy it is. Your body and heart aches for it to be thrusted and shoved inside of you, a dull ache brewing intently in your sweet spot between your thighs. However, your mind pondered over the great certainty that this will hurt, and the pain would be agonising, and it seemed your face did not mask the fear well enough…

“Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it.”

Caressing your tender, worrisome face with his rough hand, gliding a misplaced strand of hair away from your face, a wave of reassurance washed over. And again, you nod graciously to his words. Seeing how tender and effortless Aegon was at making you feel this way, you felt the urge to sate him, to please him, to fulfill the duty as his wife, as best as possible.

“Spread your legs a little more, baby. You need to make room for me- That’s it baby, such a good fucking girl- Take a few deep breaths for me, just relax-”

Within a few short seconds, the wet tip that was just teasingly stroking over the entrance of your folds, find it’s sharp way piercing through, stretching your tight, tight walls beyond relief for a few, solid minutes. You could feel his cock, hitting at your cervix, igniting a lightning bolt to coarse rapidly throughout the fibres of your entire being.

The moan that escaped Aegon’s mouth was one of pleasure, whereas yours was shriek of pain, yet you craved for more. Feeling himself burying his hard, thick cock deeper between your stretched out walls, his thrusts pacing slow and steady as he allowed you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck that feels so, so good. This pretty, little cunt was made just for me baby- I’m going to ruin you bit by bit.”

The breathing became more dense and heavy, slowly syncing with one another, the sweat beginning to emit from your skin. Bare bodies colliding rhythmically with each other, you felt your insides burning with discomfort and lust.

“Buck your hips forward baby, like this-”

Swiftly, as he steadied himself on his knees, his hands firmly gripped your waist, mindlessly manhandling you as he repositioned your hips, presumably teaching you for next time.

“Ughhh- That’s it, baby- Stay like this for me- Now moan for your husband, say my fucking name for the realm to hear… Let them know exactly who you belong to now and for eternity.”

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #TGC #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen fluff #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic rec #hotd fanfiction

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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months

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tumblr au. ft aot characters!

girlypop im obsessed with making these and theres nothing you can do to stop me. basically, what if aot characters had tumblr? [set in between the time skip period, pre-rumbling]

🐥freedomyeager

oh your friends gave you chocolates? mine gave me ptsd and trauma

🔁🐴jeaniejean Follow

bro you literally lost one uno match why tf are you so fucking emo?

🔁⚔️micasasucasa

eren, stop staring at the ocean and get your ass back in here or so god help me.

345 notes

📘arminarlet Follow

You know what's weird? That typically, I am a "cutie-patootie" but then I do a little, mild, psychological torture to my enemies. And suddenly, I am a threat to the nation. Y'all switch up so quick.

406 notes

👨‍🦲baldspringer Follow

when you enter a dick-riding competition but your opponent is @flochyou

🔁🚩flochyou Follow

you're just mad daddy doesn't like you 😒

🔁🐥freedomyeager

dude how many times do i gotta tell you to stop doing that in public?

🔁🍖sashahaha Follow

hes allowed to do that in private???

#yeagerists exposed

41,032 notes

⚔️micasasucasa Follow

is it normal to have re-occurring dreams about your dead parents or friends?

🔁🩳leviackermanofficial

yes.

🔁👱🏻‍♂️braunreiner Follow

yeah

🔁📘arminarlet Follow

I've asked Commander Zoe if the Scouts can afford to send you all to therapy but she said "fuck no, i dont even have money to eat shit." So, looks like you're all stuck like this. Sorry guys.

3,512 notes

🐴jeaniejean Follow

they call me a horse cause all the girls wanna ride me yeehaw🤠

🔁👨‍🦲baldspringer Follow

dude, blocked.

🔁🍖sashahaha Follow

blocked.

🔁👱🏻‍♂️braunreiner Follow

blocked.

🔁⚔️micasasucasa

blocked.

🔁👑 ymirsgf

and reported.

675 notes

😴leonhart Follow

i swear to god if @baldspringer played "annie, are you okay?" in frong of my crystal one more time, i will break this crystal and come punch him square in his egg-shaped head.

🔁👨‍🦲baldspringer Follow

i was literally trying to keep you entertained. but anyways annie, are you okay?

🔁🍖sashahaha Follow

are you okay, annie?

🔁👓officialtitanlover

@leonhart HOW ARE YOU TYPING IN THE CRYSTAL?

👓officialtitanlover

My son is officially entering his emo phase. Today, he said "ruskin ready to rumble" while staring at the sea. It's literally so funny 😂😂

🔁🐥freedomyeager

ITS LITERALLY NOT A PHASE, I WILL KILL EVERYONE

🔁🩳leviackermanofficial

Have you lost your mind? Do i need to kick you in the face again?

🔁🐥freedomyeager

... no 😞

141 notes

a/n: jean is a loserboy and i love him. only i am allowed to slander him.

#attack on titan #aot #attack on titan final season #snk #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #levi ackerman #hange zoe #armin arlert #aot fluff #dash simulator #fake dashboard #aot au #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #connie springer #sasha braus #aot final season

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sxvenz · 2 years

Text

attention. | yan! darth maul

soft yandere! au

fem! reader

synopsis. after months of ignoring your captor, you grow curious about his his species and discover that attention makes him purr, not growl.

fluffy! pre-tpm! maul, zabrak purring, manipulative reader, reader is smart but kinda dumb lmao, reader has accepted his tendencies, reader doesn’t know much about sith/jedi. ALL CONTENT ON MY BLOG IS FICTIONAL.

WARNING(s): obsessive tendencies, possessive behavior, mentions of kidnapping, manipulative reader, stockholm syndrome, suggestive content, maul uses mind tricks on reader at one point, maul is constantly reading reader’s mind

You didn’t know much about Zabraks in general, but you did know a lot about Maul. You knew he was moody and aggressive, mostly with others rather than yourself. You know that he likes eating with you, often refusing meals unless you were there to join him. You know that he is a Sith Lord, with a master who doesn’t like you. But most importantly, you know that Maul is possessive.

Maul’s possessiveness was the most prevalent part of his personality, at least from your point of view. It was the very reason you’re here, locked away in his room on a massive ship in the middle of space, far from your home on Naboo. Currently, he was busy training with his master while you were forced to wait for him. His master didn’t come around so often anymore; you didn’t know why his visits have become less frequent, but you were relieved by the fact. The Sith unsettled you for more reasons than his wicked nature; he made his dislike for you clear. You’re sure the only reason he let Maul keep you at all is because of the strong emotions you disrupt in the zabrak.

You aren’t entirely certain what the Dathomirian feels for you, but you’re clever enough to know it’s something akin to obsession. He’d kidnapped you; stole you from Naboo as you were returning from the late-night market. He’d never explained to you why he took you, why he was there on Naboo, or if he had ever stalked you beforehand. He prefers to leave you ignorant to most things, perhaps only because he dislikes talking.

Maul wasn’t a great communicator by any means, especially when he’d first brought you to the ship, but you realized at some point that verbal communication was his primary issue. Physically, he was very clear in what he wanted, whether he had to drag you around, pick you up and place you where he wanted, or even growl at you.

Back when you’d first arrived, the idea of sharing a bed with him rightfully scared you. The first few days spent with him, you sat in the corner of his room, cowering and refusing to move unless you needed the bathroom. He didn’t say much to you, but his annoyance at your rejection was obvious enough. He would sit on the edge of the bed glaring at you for many minutes until he eventually stripped his shirt off and laid down, his back to you. That was a short-lived phase: after four nights of this, he finally went over to you, plucked you from your spot on the ground and threw you onto his bed. Maul was an intimidating figure, in more ways than one, so you were too scared to try and escape him. He forcefully pushed you under the covers before crawling into bed himself, next to you. He kept his distance, and eventually you relaxed; you didn’t realize how soft his bed was. But the moment your eyes closed, Maul released a deep, odd sounding growl that immediately jolted you out of your relaxed state. He didn’t growl again that night, but you still didn’t sleep much.

Recently you’ve noticed that his growling has become more frequent, and you assumed he just didn’t like being bothered. You’ve lost most of your fear of him; it’s become increasingly obvious that he had no intention of hurting you. And honestly, you’re learning to accept your role with him. But the growling bothers you; it’s confusing. If he liked you enough to kidnap you from your home planet, then why does he growl at you?

Often, he brings you along to watch him train, but only when he’s alone. You sit on the ground with nothing to entertain yourself as he shows off his fighting skills, throwing and manipulating his lightsaber with impressive ease. You haven’t told him yet, but you’ve learned to admire his beauty; the tattoos covering his red skin were oddly charming and you catch yourself wanting to trace your fingers over them. For many months, you’d widely tried to ignore his presence the best you could, but it was getting exhausting. He wasn’t wearing a shirt at the moment, most likely to draw a reaction from you, and you now really take the chance to look at the dark patterns.

Pretty, you thought affectionately, watching as Maul froze in place.

He shut his lightsaber off, a short, quiet growl leaving him. Turning your way, he dropped the saber hilt before extending his hand your way.

“Come here.” He spoke sternly, and you perked up with a smirk.

“What, do you want me to beat you up?” You asked, guessing that he was inviting you to spar with him.

Your confidence was a bit false and he likely knew it. You were stiff from hearing his growl, but you weren’t fearful. You knew he wouldn’t harm you, but you knew he easily could if he so desired. You weren’t a Jedi before all this; just a normal Naboo citizen who occasionally helped assist at the palace. You couldn’t fight like Maul could, he’d knock you down in seconds.

He huffed, pushing a quick breath out of his nose at your teasing, “Show me.”

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head at his words. You weren’t sure what he was asking for.

He stepped forward, pulling you by your wrists further into the center of the room, “How you would fight me, My Star. Beat me up.” He mocked, a small grin gracing his harsh features.

Frankly, you weren’t interested in sparring with Maul. Not only were you sure to lose, but you weren’t dressed for such physical activity either. Maul provided you with clothing, as you obviously didn’t get the chance to pack. Most of your wardrobe consisted of thin dresses of various colors, primarily black, red, or white. Currently, the dress you wore was a silk, off-white piece that only went to your knees. Like most of them, it was quite revealing, a wide slit going up your thigh and two thin straps rather than sleeves. You weren’t stupid, you knew you could get out of this situation.

“Maul,” you pouted, looking down at your bare feet and stepping closer to him.

The Zabrak before you was much bigger; he wasn’t incredibly tall, but he was very broad and well-built. You’d never touched him, not really and definitely not on purpose. You’ve had accidents where you’d stumbled into him or rolled over to his side of bed at night, but his growls always spooked you away.

“I don’t want to fight you, you’ll just win. Can’t we do something else?” You asked gently, fiddling with your hands and refusing to look up at him.

His breath had picked up, you noticed. It was kind of endearing, the obvious way you effected him. You felt a little bad for messing with him like this, but at the end of the day, he did kidnap you and deserved a little karma for his sins.

He didn’t speak, just observed as you reached up and placed your hand on his shoulders.

You finally looked up into his yellow eyes, your wrists sitting gently on his red and black skin. The growls erupted in his chest instantly, causing you to flinch slightly but not move your hands. Neither of you said a word but you could see his pupils were blown wide, hinting at his attraction towards you. You were a bit taken aback and quickly averted your eyes up, looking at his horns. Does… he growl when he likes something?

“I want a book.” You whispered, “Could you get me one?”

“Yes.” Maul answered quickly, his voice a bit raspy.

“I want a book on Dathomirian Zabraks. I want to know more about them.” His strange growl grew louder at that, “For educational purposes, of course.”

“I’ll get you your book.” He confirmed.

That was two weeks ago, and he had stayed true to his promise. In fact, he’d gotten you a few books on Dathomirian Zabraks. It’s what you were currently reading as you waited for him to finish his training session with his master.

You were reading one of the three books, the one about anatomy. You remembered when you first met him, you assumed the patterns on his skin were a feature of his species, but he eventually told you they were tattoos he received as a child due to his culture. The book explained the variety of skin colors his species could have, and how they had two hearts. It was all quite interesting; you already felt as if you had a better understanding of Maul.

Just as you reached the chapter about their horns, the lock on the door fiddled and Maul soon entered the large bedroom. You sunk into your spot on the bed and peaked over the book to look at him. Per usual, he glanced at you before heading off to the shower without a word. Not much changed since you’d touched him during his training, and you haven’t tried anything since. It would be a good 15 to 20 minutes until his return, so you quickly delve back into your book.

To be honest, you’d never thought much about Maul’s horns. Rather, you just kind of accepted them and moved on. Horns were a pretty common characteristic in the universe, they weren’t the part of maul that stood out most. His most striking feature was his skin, and you’d already gotten to the bottom of that.

By the time Maul got out of the shower, you were high on curiosity.

“Maul!” You called for him as soon as he opened the bathroom door. You were looking excited, a sight he’s never been blessed with before now, sitting on your knees as the edge of the bed with the book in your hand.

“Yes, My Light?” He asked, eyes focused on your expression as he threw his black robe down the dirty-clothes shute. He was only in his loose black pants at the moment, ready for bed.

“Your horns! They grow!” You told him excitedly as if he didn’t know.

“They do.” He smiled, standing directly in front of your spot on the bed.

“I’ve never seen them any longer than what you have them.”

“I file them down, My Star.” He told you gently, slowly reaching his red and black hand down to stroke your hair.

“When?” You’d certainly never seen him do it, and you’ve been with him for nearly 7 months.

“Hm, they don’t grow as fast as you may think. I file them every few months.” He sounded breathless, your hair curled around his fingers.

“Can I do it?” You asked sweetly, knowing he’d say yes.

Poor you, you had no idea he could feel your thoughts. He always could and he was always listening. You weren’t educated on Sith or Jedi, how could you have known? You’re clueless; you think you’re clever. He lets you think you have the upper-hand, because maybe you do. He gives you anything you want, he’d do anything for you as long as you’re his. He’s obsessed with you, he loves you, you’re all he thinks about, you’re all he wants.

“Yes.” He tells you, and motions towards his bedside table where the metal file sits inside.

You crawl across the bed, letting go of your book and retrieving the file. Maul watches you diligently, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing you when you return. You don’t say anything about his position, rather you adjust yourself to sit on your knees and quickly get to work filing his horns. You work a little clumsily, but he doesn’t mind.

The growls start up immediately, and you can feel the vibrations all the way up at his horns. Since the training incident, you’ve learned not to mind them. Your working theory is ‘happy-growls’, but you have to wait until you get to the Dathomirian Zabrak: Behavior and Culture book to find out. The sound is alarming, it’s similar to the growl of a loth-wolf, maybe a bit softer? You don’t want to ask him; you’re not sure about letting him know you’re interested. After all, he did kidnap you. At the end of the day he’ll always be your captor. The growing fondness you have for him is wrong.

Lost in your conflicted thoughts, you didn’t notice his growling stop. At least not until his hands grip your waist, shocking you out of your trance. His eyes bore into yours and you begin to wonder about his eye color. It’s unique and even a bit attractive. If you had kids, would they inherit his eyes?

Maul released your waist in favor of pulling your face down to his, pressing his lips to yours in a desperate fashion.

He feels like he’s on a high; he always feels this way when he’s near you, but it’s stronger this time. Better. You were imagining kids with him. Bearing his children, and wondering if they’d resemble him. Of course, you didn’t know he wasn’t born with these eyes; they were a result of his Sith status. It’s okay, he would teach you about it in the future.

This was the first kiss between the two of you, and the most physical that things have ever gotten. You were buzzing. You wanted nothing to do with him just a month ago, but the loneliness had caught up with you, you suppose. So many thoughts were filling your head, thoughts you didn’t feel were your own. Different scenes flashed before your eyes; maul kissing you, dancing with you, getting married to him, having his children.

You gasped at the images, jerking back from the red Zabrak. The growling was louder than you’d ever heard it, and his arms were strong around your midsection. You never noticed the change in position, you were now seated in his lap with your arms around his neck.

“What was that?” You whispered, breathless and confused. You felt as if you were going to cry.

“Shh, it was nothing, my Lady.” Maul cooed, the tone sounding odd with his deep voice, “Let’s rest.”

You found yourself nodding along to whatever he said, allowing him to move you wherever he wanted. Soon you were drifting off to sleep with Maul’s chest rumbling behind you.

•.

Maul had been a bit more affectionate lately, and the growls have increased in frequency. You haven’t kissed again since the night you’d filed his horns, and to be honest, you’ve been avoiding him best you could in favor of reading your books. You felt guilty. Guilt towards your loved ones who you were stolen from. Were you actually enjoying your time with your captor?

It was the middle of the night, Maul was sleeping beside you in bed. You were still up, reading your book about zabrak behavior. This book didn’t have as many pictures as the last, but you didn’t mind; you were too focused on getting to the bottom of his growling.

Skimming through the chapter on aggression, you were confused. Although it briefly mentioned growling, the sound and motives it described didn’t match your experiences with Maul. In no way was he threatened or physically aggressive.

But when you turned the page, reaching the 11th chapter happiness and pleasure, suddenly it all made sense…

You sat up quickly, tossing your book to the ground. The sound must’ve woken Maul, because he was all too ready to catch you when you jumped onto him, straddling his midsection above the blankets.

The familiar sound starts up; he’s not growling, he’s purring.

As far as you knew, only animals could purr, you weren’t aware of any humanoid creatures having that ability. It never even occurred to you of that being a possibility, how could you have been so dumb? Happy growls? That’s what purring is, practically!

“You purr?! You’re purring at me?!”

Maul’s purrs quiet down a bit and he looks awkward. Expressionless. Like he’s not used to be confronted, which he definitely isn’t.

“No, no no! Keep going!” You slap his chest lightly, demanding more purrs. You don’t really know if it’s voluntary, you didn’t read that far.

He huffs at that, but his purrs go back up in volume and you can’t help but laugh. You feel like an idiot, you probably are, and here he is doing whatever you say. The big bad Maul, evil Sith Lord, obeying you at every request.

He almost wants to tell you he can hear your thoughts, that you’re being a bit too arrogant at the moment, but he decides that would ruin the moment. It would also likely destroy all the progress he’s made. So he stays quiet, letting his relaxed and satisfied purring talk for him.

He’s never been the best at verbal communication and he’s glad that you know.

- venus

#star wars x reader #yandere star wars #yandere darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul #maul x reader #yandere maul #obsessive maul #dark! darth maul #yandere Star Wars x reader #darth maul purring #zabrak purring

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kingsandbastardz · 4 months

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here u go, ask for trying times: give me your pitch for shipping wudi, i've got maybe one foot on that ship but i'm curious on your thoughts (gl on the all-nighter!!)

I survived it, sorta. The deadlines keep trucking om 😭 So here's my thoughts:

It's really unfortunate that we don't see enough of Wuyan but I do think we have enough of a framework to draw some interesting conclusions about them both relationship-wise. So here's to me heavily analyzing the 5 minutes Wuyan is on screen! LMAO:

Service as show of devotion - Chooses to act like and appear as a lower rank personal servant to dfs even though he clearly has a lot of power to draw from to get things done and dfs tells him he sees his rank as being much higher

Of everyone that focuses their attention on dfs, he's the only one that doesn't want to own or control him (master di - slave, jlq - wife, llh - 主人, fdb - wants to be in charge)

Despite knowing he was massively outclassed, still put himself in lxy's path at donghai

Shared experience: both survived the Donghai battle together and both have matching chest scars courtesy of lxy. They also worked side by side for years to accomplish the same goals

Llh is presented as knowing dfs the best - but imo, that means wuyan knows even more. Wuyan knows all the why's that llh doesn't know

We don't see much general conversation but considering how relaxed dfs is around him and willing to winge about personal things - he seems like he's actually capable of communicating well with dfs lmao

Pure headcanon here, but I want to say he and dfs learned or figured out how to hide their chi at a high level together. DFS uses it all the time and seems to be undetectable even to llh - wuyan seems to be undetectable to the world - I mean i think his name means something like "without presence"? He comes pre-labelled. So I think it's something martial-skill related that would give additional meat to dfs' respect for him

Guards dfs' secrets - how dfs truly feels about all the mengzhu stuff and rankings etc. Don't know if he knows anything about Di Fortress, but anything he does know about dfs' background it's not going to be a topic of conversation

He pays attention to dfs' preferences and knows how to deliver them in the form he prefers (see jlq who doesn't know his preferences and hates that dfs doesn't like what she prepared for him)

As a personal guard, in the early days when dfs was weaker, he likely went with dfs to any secret meetings with llh, hid his chi to keep guard, and was privy to what went on between them. Likely is the only one that would know this information - which is also why he fully understands why dfs is obsessed with llh and supports him. And listened to him mourn him for however many years (I assume he's the one providing clean clothes and food during seclusion so that's 10 years of crying he's been privy to)

Is willing to extend his top level standard of service to the ppl dfs cares about

He acts like he's a nobody, and he's not a pretty face, but everything points to him actually being a very, very competent and high-level guy in his area of expertise? So a good match to dfs. His martial skill isn't comparable, so he can't fight him like lxy, but he can do all the things dfs doesn't like to do - like the organizational stuff, dealing with and managing ppl, etc.

Headcanon again: i can really see them having an experimental phase in their youth together. Like something where dfs and him kinda decide to test things out and then maybe deciding the timing was bad or they weren't into each other like that at that time or whatever. But deciding to remain friends instead. And continuing to build jinyuan alliance together and everything else. It's like best bro + work spouse rolled into one -- with the wild result that they come out even stronger at the end of it. Think lxy + zhan yunfei but they see each other and work together every day. Successfully. With some extra headcanon and a small stretch you can probably position him and dfs as foils to lxy and shan gudao? (Sadly not enough info about the formation of daily workings of JA back then)

headcanon continued: They have to have good communication because they negotiated or figured out how to navigate their Situation and have clearly been at it for awhile - with one being a 'servant' and with the other one having ptsd issues with servitude/slavery. In the waterfall scene we get to see dfs mildly checking in and essentially being all, "Uh, you still good there? Remember you can change things up any time you want. My opinion of you is still A++ fyi" and Wuyan essentially signalling he's fine by continuing on as always.

Wuyan is the last person alive that remembers who dfs was before Jinyuan Alliance and the development of the Di Mengzhu persona. He helped craft that persona.

Basically if you are into themes like fealty and devotion and the sort of comfort you can get from a long time friendship where they've seen each other at their worst. Where they've figured out how to communicate and operate/exist together seamlessly while making allowances for each others' needs and interests. This is it!

They could be queer platonic, they could be sexual, they can be any permutations of anything and it still doesn't change the basis of their relationship which is years of trust, communication, hard work and shared experiences.

Like imagine teenagers - one holding the other guy's hair up while he vomits blood and bile into an alley. Where they patch each others' wounds in the shadow of someone's doorway after getting their asses kicked but somehow also saving each other from getting killed that day. They're the ones that figure out how to kill together. How to hide together. They figure out how to teach others to kill and hide together. They build power with their joined hands and with it they gain the money and prestige that allows them a comfortable place to sleep and full bellies. They give this same thing to others. They build it up so well people can afford to do normal ppl shit like fall in love and get married.

These are things they likely wouldn't have thought of when they were engaged in a battle royale in the street. It's them, their circle of friends, against everyone else in the world. And even when all their friends are now dead - they're still alive. They're still together. They'll see it through.

Maybe one day they'll find their way into each other's beds - the future is ever changing. But whether they do or not doesn't matter - they already have each other. They've survived this much together. Anything else is just icing.

#tbh this is also one of the reasons the ot3 keeps trying to morph into an ot4 or an ot3 + 1 bc I just can't remove wuyan without killing him #imagine llh-with-control-needs with access to someone like wuyan who willingly swaps in because dfs' ptsd creates hard boundaries?#im not even talking sexually - both llh and fdb have Upper Class Needs in their blood (tho llh tries to deny it)#does c-fandom have a name for this ship? I went with wudi bc it sounds like judi from atla - with the 'there is nothing here' hypnotism #get it? wuyan? judi? no presence + kungfu jedi mind tricks? aahahahaha. eeeeh.#mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #wuyan #wudi #my royal ramblings #meta #all nighter meta replies #replies

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doctorofmagic · 9 months

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Why magic in the MCU has failed

I remember the "good" old days when Doctor Strange was about to debut back in 2016. I was obsessed with spotting every single little magic detail in the MCU in the hope that magic would slowly grow in status and importance, only to give up after so much disappointment.

But the major issue? The moment Feige stated that every side project was a part of the MCU. People who experienced phase 1 and 2 will remember that magic was a taboo. "It's just science we don't understand yet". While it's a common line quoted by Marvel's greatest geniuses, we all know it's pure arrogance on their part. Otherwise, they'd be doing what magic users do.

It was not MCU's case. Magic was INDEED treated as science. From Ghost Rider's portal being reproduced by a robot through the Darkhold to Wanda's powers being a product of an experiment but not explained at all. From a loooong season of Cloak and Dagger taking its time to finally introduce magic elements to Nico's staff almost falling to the same old "technology" trope. From whatever is happening in Asgard to Loki's limited magic. It's frustrating, but we'd still find a way to turn the tables, right? The Dark Dimension was introduced (twice?), the (third) Darkhold was finally attached to Chthon, Morgana and Lorelei debuted, Nico's powers were finally acknowledge as magic... So what happened?

My best guess? Structure.

There's no structure to define what is magic in the MCU. Doctor Strange (2016) tried. Really hard. And, although it got several things right, it failed in two fundamental aspects: pre-established comic book knowledge and magic deities.

Remember how we got three Darkholds? The first was just so detached from magic that it became a book used to create a VIRTUAL world in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. The second was used by Morgan le Fey, but how was she associated with the Dark Dimension? Moreover, that was NOT the Dark Dimension from the first DS movie (or any comic book, really). Its last appearance, as seen in WandaVision and DSITMOM, finally mentioned Chthon, but it literally did NOTHING it was supposed to do. That MCU!Wanda has nothing to do with her 616 version, this is not new. But if we're going to use comic books as foundation to adapt a story, the very bare minimum you can do is do it right. Point is, the book does corrupt people, but it's because of Chthon's influence and his connection to Wanda. Where's Chthon in the movie? The corruption was badly explored and her journey towards evil and redemption doesn't make any sense from a magic point.

Now, the "main" magic cast in the MCU could have worked... Except that there's little to no information regarding how Kamar-Taj works as a temple/school for new sorcerers. And worse even, magic isn't connected to its deities. Sure, there were a few name drops, but does it explain where it comes from? And who chooses the next sorcerer supreme if the Vishanti isn't involved?

The truth is, magic was all over the place, and the creative minds were either too oblivious to the importance of learning about how magic works in comics (to the point of adapting a second Dark Dimension that has nothing to do with the original one) or too shy to introduce a magic hierarchy (as in, deities).

There's an actual attempt to create this structure now, but it's too late. Sure, you can ignore past tv shows, but the mess remains. Eternity was supposed to be an abstract entity, deeply connected to magic, cosmic aspects and life itself.

Loki is still so embarrassing because the very foundation of Asgardian mythos started wrong (and why is that? Because no magic, of course!). While I find funny that Stephen trapped Loki in an endless freefall, there's no way the god of stories would be humiliated like that. Loki being taught magic by his alts is infuriating (and it's, again, mostly illusions).

Remember when Stephen was beaten by math? That also happened.

This is the moment I completely give up to see magic portrayed at its fullest, in all its beauty and complexity. Because it's not treated the way it deserves. It has never been.

And here's my boldest take: if you really wish to see the full potential of magic in the MCU, go for What If. The price you pay, the cosmic proportion of being misused, the creative elements... It's all there. Which is sad because it's not the main timeline. Anyways, this is it.

PS: This post may age poorly as DS3 comes out in 20 years. Let's wait and see.

#ds3 being my only source of interest regarding magic bc agatha and loki are NOT it #i keep loosing #mcu #mcu discourse #analysis #magic

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soleilonthesun · 1 month

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In this first edition of the exclusive magazine for CF GIRLFRIEND, you will find answers and get to know the members of the football club better. Made with all the love, the CF GIRLFRIEND is a cult, I mean, impressive community. As I am a reporter, thank you for making a place for me in your beautiful community. This is a gift for you. I couldn't collect all the answers, but I tried to do so. I hope you enjoy reading as I edited and wrote it, my dear reader.

@sharkissm

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: otoya, karasu and kurona have my heart, BUT MY BBG THE LOVE OF MY LIFE OTOYA WINS OVER ANYTHING AND ANYONE!!!!!!

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: I think that or he will lose his vocal cords bcs damn that boy's screaming for his life, or noa will take him out and put kyoura in his place, but I hope he stays just so maybe he can score a goal!!!!

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: bluelock is my hyperfixation. I FEEL LIKE ONE OF THESE FOOTBALL OBSESSED MEN WHEN I WHATCH OR READ IT, IT'S BIZARRE!!!! And I started watching anime when I was really really young, like, maybe 6 or 7 max, POKÉMON AND GLITTER FORCE DOKI DOKI ARE FIRE BRO!!!!

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: black. I also like deep blue and wine but bcs most of my outfits/anything I buy is black, I'll go with it!!

Q: What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: gf fc is like a big big BIG group of friends that really understand me and my hyperfixations and support my deluluness just like I support theirs!!! I LOVE GF FC!!!

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: I LOVE THEM!!!!!! Idk why you started making them BUT IT'S ADDICTING!!!! My favorite one is the one with bachira and karasu!!! (Surprisingly, it isn't the one with otoya bcs after that he slept on the couch 🫶) THEY ARE SO FUN AND I ALWAYS LOSE TRACK OF TIME WHEN I READ THEM!!!! You are simply the best, soleil!!!!

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

@luvingshidou

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: SHIDOUUUU I LOVE MY CRAZY CRAZY HUSBAND INSANELY MUCH 🫶🫶🫶

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: Personally I think kaiser gonna do some crazy ass goal and cook or he gonna get subbed out and kiyora might play

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: I LOVE BLLK ITS MY HAIKYUU PHASE BUT CRANKED UP TO 100. I started my bllk phase like the middle of last year but I watched the anime and saw all the edits from 2022. I started watching anime when i was rlly young I LOVED POKEMON & MY NEIGHBOUR TOTORO

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: PINKKK I LIVE FOR PINK SO MUCHVGVVHHH

Q. What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: I love the gang fr💗💗💗🤧🤧🤧

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: I LOVE UR INTERVIEWS SO MUCHHGG HONESTLY

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@Kurona-the-shark

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: hiori because hes just hiori. kurona ranze because i find him cute and helpfull. tokimitsu hes me when i get nervous bachira because hes goofy

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: i have no idea

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: after watching isagi edit 💀

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: hot pink but i mostly wear baggy jeans and weathers irl

Q. What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: i find it nice communtiy (cult jk) were we can talk about bllk and wat if we were in bllk as team

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: as much as i love bllk fluff fanfics and thats love of human 2 hearts

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@refrigeratedboombursts

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: I like pretty much everyone, but my favourites are Bachira and Ness! They're the skrunkles of all time!!!

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: I think chaos will ensue and Kaiser will eventually have his redemption arc.

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: Blue Lock is not the type of media I'd usually be into, I'm not a fan of sports and I'm not that big on animanga, either. But I somehow got into it and now I’m in too deep /lh /pos

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: My favourite colours are purple and pink!

Q: What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

Fc Girlfriend means everything to me, and I'm honoured to be a part of it.

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: I Love your interviews, Soleil. They're the highlight of my askbox and I look forward to hanging out with you more!!! :)

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@hooudie212

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: My favorite characters in bllk are a lot, but the best ones are Reo (because he's so handsome ghgjg), Ness( I love him my wizard boy) and Isagi! (My sweet boy!)

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: I honestly think Kaiser will try to score a goal but he will fail miserably and be subbed in the next chapter

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: Blue lock is my top favorite rn (it's my haikyuu phase all over again). I started being a fan when the anime came out

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: GREEN AND PURPLE!

Q: What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: FC girlfriend is my team and they're my friends 💪🏻💪🏻😼

Q: How much do you like my interviews?A: VERY MUCH! THEY MAKE ME LAUGH

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@someprettyname

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: So. Blue lock is a special story for me, its the only story I've been able to TRULY appreciate and relate to after a very long time! I find something relatable and appreciable in EVERY charachter. Be it Isagi rising to the top from rock bottom. Or reo fighting for his own identity. Or nagi, because I'm going through the gifted kid burnout syndrome rn. Lol. 😂😭 Or chigiri being out of touch from his powers and his journey of re discovery. Or Bachira with the whole being lonely, but cheery and optimistic despite all that he's gone through. Or Hiori"s story about being pressured under expectation. Or Ness"s unwavering trust in existence of magic!

They're all so inspirational and dear to me but if I had to chose top 3:

>>>Rin - because damn. His story with his brother and my personal dynamics with my brother is DANGEROUSLY similar. So he just hits close to heart.

>>>Michael - I highly respect his resilience! I aspire to have that too!

>>>Reo - his fight for his own personal identity and following what he wants, it's all personally inspiring to me!

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: Honestly, nobody knows. We can only speculate. but I have a feeling he wont be benched, or even if he is it'd only last as long as star exchange system and then he WILL have a comeback.

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: So, as I said it's very close to me because I see my own reflection in the charachters in some way or the other. I've been in the academic competitive world since I was like 13. So you can understand why it hits home for me. In short, its very dear and precious to me. Also, there's my love Michael so <33333333. Overall? I started watching anime when I was what? 14? I think? My first anime was death note (of course). If it's about blue lock, I only saw it last month haha!

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: Yellow because it stands for hope! If I have to chose others, I'd say glaucous because its soothing. And viridian (totally not due to raverin reasons ha!)

Q. What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: It's like a family to me! I enjoy interacting with yall so much!! Many of you are such sweethearts 🤧🤧🤧 I absolutely LOVE our smol little cult A LOT!! ❤❤❤

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: ABSOLUTELY!!! IT ADDS SO MUCH MORE FLAIR TO OUR CLUB AND ITS ALWAYS SO MUCH FUN TO READ!! Keep up the amazing work, we all love and appreciate you 💪❤🔥🗣

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@jujutsustraycats

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: I have several favorites, to be honest. Top three being Rin, Kaiser and Karasu. Rin because his character is... surprisingly realistic to me. Kaiser's well written (even before the leaks, I've liked him). Karasu– I don't think I need to explain. He's my favorite favorite.

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: I'm not really sure about this, to be honest? But I really, really wish Kaiser would make a comeback with a successful shot. Though, like everyone's saying, he might get subbed out.

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: Blue Lock honestly perfectly shows reality. I mean, think about it. Soccer's supposed to be a team sport, but that's the first thing they unlearn while trying to be a successful striker. It honestly feels like a direct parallel to the world where everyone benefits from acting in their own interests and allying themself with some (and make genuine connections, just like in Blue Lock, so in ways people help others). I think I started watching anime about 2-3 years ago.

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: That one color between purple and blue (indigo??). Also, maroon and black.

Q: What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: I'm still new to this, so I won't say much, but I've genuinely liked it so far. CF Girlfriend feels like a safe space for Blue Lock ramblings, to be honest. As for the games– we genuinely enjoy that!

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: YOUR INTERVIEWS ARE THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN ON BLLK TUMBLR :D

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@merlucide

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: THATS HARD I LITERALLY LIKE THEM ALL💀 (except Otoya and Sae) but my top 4 are Shidou, Rin, Sendou, and Kurona

Q: What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: I don’t even know man 😭 a part says he will pull it together, the other part says this is his downfall.

Q: What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: I’m so obsessed with this tbh 💀 about like a year ago-ish?

Q: What is your favorite color or colors?

A: Pink and Blue!! (I mainly wear black lmao)

Q: What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: also am very obsessed with this silly FC/cult. Like I’m going to be devastated when it dies :(

Q: How much do you like my interviews?

A: SO MUCH LMAO- THEY ARE SO FUNNY. My fav one is probably the itoshi bros talking about frozen

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@kurominote08

Q: Which Blue Lock character do you like? Are there several? Or is it one? And why?

A: I like a lot of the characters but my favs are rin and chigiri since i relate to them a lot :) i feel like personality wise im similar to chigiri with his goals/motives but i relate to rin a lot too because of the way we both process things/how i react to in person interactions.. playstyles too!!

2. What do you think will happen in the Blue Lock manga after Kaiser's past?

A: I hope he overcomes his burdens and uses it as motivations to push through!!!

3. What does Blue Lock mean to you? Since when did you start being a fan of anime?

A: I started watching blue lock pretty late but I enjoyed it since I've been playing soccer in a club for a while now, it means a interest to go to whenever im bored and a motivator to improve in the sport myself (lol isagi is so inspirational sometimes ,, i don't wanna be lukewarm either so i'm working hard!!)

4. What is your favorite color or colors?

A: i like purple...like a lot.. also pinks though!! i like cute color palates(did i spell that right?) in stuff for my room or accessories but I really only wear black haha..

5. What does CF GIRLFRIEND mean to you?

A: a fun community that shares interests and feelings together!! it's still kind of surreal that i get to be considered a member of fc girlfriend as i felt like a lurker for the longest time ,, ty for letting me join this lovely c̶u̶l̶t̶ i mean community!

6. How much do you like my interviews?

A: love them so much!! it's always a big mood booster whenever ANY of your posts show up on my feed and even better when i get to read about little interactions you came up with :)) your creativity and efforts are valued heavily by my loser self <333

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Here ends the first edition of the magazine. It has been a pleasure speaking with everyone in this beautiful community <3. But, don't worry, there will be more magazines in the future! Where you will answer other questions. Thank you for all the love you are giving me, I am happy to belong to this cult, ahem, I say community. Because if it were a cult, we could bring our favorite characters to life. With all the love, Soleil, Your reporter never seen before.

#girlfriend fc #cf girlfriend #EXPLUSIVE

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