#uh i guess it's time to work on book 3

[tarysande]

So this is related to The Aurora Project but I realize it can also be more broad: are there places besides Amazon you can recommend for buying eBooks? My experience with eBooks up until this point has mostly been stuff I've gotten from The Gutenberg Project or Ao3. I like using the .epub format, and would prefer to continue to do so.

My issue is that I'd like to support the author the best I can but I don't have a lot of money. My library doesn't have the book yet, and I'm already planning on requesting it. But since this is more your wheelhouse, I was wondering what you would suggest for The Aurora Project, in case they don't get it in right away. I'd like to help, but yeah, don't have a lot of money.

So, one of the (many) strangleholds Amazon has over the self-publishing market is the lure of Kindle Unlimited. Basically, if you promise not to sell your ebook anywhere else, you can include it in the Kindle Unlimited program. The benefit there is that anyone who subscribes to Kindle Unlimited can read the book for "free"--and the author gets paid for every page read, rather than just the lump sum per unit of book sold. And authors don't get dinged for returns. (Which happens a distressing amount at Amazon.)

I don't know the specific math, but one of my successful self-publishing clients tells me Kindle Unlimited makes a huge financial difference for her. Which, of course, means self-pub authors stay loyal to Amazon, and Amazon keeps making money off them.

Side note: The royalties Amazon pays are much higher than those in traditional publishing. Although one must keep in mind that traditional publishers pay lower royalties to authors because they are footing the entire production/editorial/marketing/etc. bill; the self-publishing author has to pay for all those things out of pocket. Even if Amazon only makes 30% on each sale, they don't really have overhead or anything. They make 30% to host the platform through which an author distributes.

Which is all a long way of saying that, for now at least, Paul has decided to sell The Aurora Project only on Amazon. I have no idea whether libraries/bookstores are able to nab copies.

Please don't put yourself in any financial hardship over it! If he ever puts it on sale, I'll let you know. I know I'm going to encourage him to do that in the weeks before the second book comes out. :)

If you don't know about it, you might want to look into BookBub, by the way. You tell BookBub what genres you like, and it sends a daily email with links to heavily discounted books in those genres. I don't think I've ever seen a book more expensive than 2.99 or maybe the very occasional 3.99, and they are OFTEN .99/1.99/FREE. I've found so many amazing books through BookBub over the last few years--lots of authors put books on sale when they're about to release a new one. You don't need to buy from Amazon, either; BookBub always lists other retailers (Apple Books, Kobo, etc.) if the books are available there.

[supersaiyantist]

I made very good progress on Dance With The Devil today…and by that I mean I finally moved a cute scene along

It only took me several hours 🥲 but it’s okay, the brain fog was defeated today

Tomorrow, who knows

[punkitt-is-here]

Had to write a three-page screenplay script for a "Discovery" for class. Didn't have any further instructions. It's super off-the-cuff, but I wanted to share it. Happy pride <3

INT. COLLEGE DORM - NIGHT.

A college student sits at his desk, sketching. It's a one room apartment, and his roommate is sound asleep. He's sketching in the light of a single lamp, being quiet. The student, GABE (male, 19) is drawing a cartoon version of himself. He's studying outfits from a fashion catalogue, drawing himself in different ones. He bites the tip of his pencil, not feeling the piece he's working on. He rolls his chair back, reeling away from the desk. Gabe puts his hands in his hair, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. He lets out a long exhale. It's late.

After a moment, he rolls back to the desk. Tapping the pencil to his head, he flips through the pages. It's an unremarkable task, stopping on a random page. Oh, the women's fashion section. It has simple, practical outfits for girls, including a jean skirt. Gabe peers at it. Fuck it, it's late. He erases the pants of one of his drawings and pencils in a skirt instead.

He pauses.

He stares at it.

Something here is weird.

He goes to erase it, but once he does, he just draws it in again. This time with more care. More detail. He stares at it again.

Tears well up in his eyes.

GABE

(whispering)

…what the fuck?

Gabe, confused, touches his hand to his eye. He looks at the tear on his finger. Huh? He stares at the drawing again. He looks back at his roommate, sound asleep. He's having some sort of moment, but he has to be quiet. He frantically looks back at his sketchbook.

GABE

(whispering)

Uh…

A beat.

Gabe starts drawing himself again. In the women's fashion this time. It's like a whole different world. He's drawing like crazy. It's all flowing out of him. He draws another.

And another. Slowly, details start to adjust in his art.

Longer hair. Longer eyelashes. Daintier poses. More smiles.

He's got tears running down his face, but he's not wearing any emotion. He's not sure what to think.

CUT TO

An indeterminate amount of time later. Gabe stares at his notebook. It's full. It's lots of drawings of him.

As…well, he guesses as a girl. But he's not one. He flips through the book again, then turns towards the dark window his desk resides next to. He looks at himself. Patchy facial hair and a shaggy haircut.

CUT TO

INT. DORM HALLWAY - NIGHT

Gabe rushes down the hallway, looking frantic. He's carrying a bag.

INT. DORM BATHROOM - NIGHT

It's quiet inside the bathroom. No one else occupies the space. It's just him and his reflection. His reflection? Maybe their reflection. Her reflection? No, that's not right. Is it right? Gabe stares at himself intently. The whirring of a trimmer cuts through the silence. He brings it up to his facial hair, shearing away a week's worth of fuzz.

He looks at himself like it's not him in the mirror. He holds a hand up to his face, feeling it.

It's not enough. Not yet. He has to know.

He gets out his phone and starts typing.

HOW TO SHAVE FACIAL HAIR OFHG

He frantically types, misspelling. He backspaces like his life depends on it.

HOW TO SHAVE FACIAL HAIR OFF ALL

THE WAY

He quickly scans an article and then gets to work, pulling some miscellaneous bathroom supplies out of his bag. Shaving cream. A razor. Gifts for cleaning up at college. He wets his face. Applies the shaving cream. Does careful strokes down his cheeks and neck. Slowly, someone reveals themselves.

They lean down, splashing themselves with water. They look up, and it's a different person. She's completely shaved her facial hair off. Gabe hasn't seen herself like this since she was in freshman year of high school, before facial hair was even an option. She reaches up and touches her face, smooth to the touch. She stares, enamored. A moment. She grabs a towel and dries her face off, and then looks again. She's so…different. But that's her! That's Gabe! Is it Gabe? She doesn't know anymore. A close up to her eyes. Her nose. Her lips. Her neck. It's all so new. She starts laughing. She laughs, and tears well up in her eyes a little. She laughs some more. In moments, she's full on crying tears of joy. She doesn't know why. But she is! That's her!

CUT TO

INT. SECONDHAND - DAY

Gabe is at a clothing rack, searching for something. She looks around, a little embarrassed. She browses for a moment before finding what she wants. She passes by some more racks carefully, trying not to be too obvious. She slips into the changing room, then locks the door.

GABE

…okay.

Gabe unbuckles her belt. In a moment, she's wearing black leggings. She hikes them up, then unclips a gaudy skirt from the clothes-hanger. She stares at it, a little scared of it and what it represents. She bites her lip. She stretches it out and then steps in. She looks up at the mirror.

Oh shit, that's her! That's her!

Gabe is wearing a long, patterned skirt and a tee-shirt. The colors don't match at all, and the patterns don't either.

She looks a bit like a yard sale of a person. But it's her!

She spins around, watching the fabric flow out from her hips in a whirlwind of stripes and insignia. She laughs again.

This is her! This is her!

This is her!

[kisses4reid]

convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.

edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶

the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.

it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.

he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.

“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.

“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”

your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.

“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.

“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.

you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.

and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.

you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.

the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.

he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,

“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”

he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.

you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.

a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.

“big night?”

“uh- what?”

“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.

now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.

“what’s your word limit?”

“3500.”

“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”

you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”

“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”

you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.

pt. 2

[mallowsweetmiri]

Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader

Part 2 • Part 3

Summary: the boys try to guess who Remus is seeing after finding a pink bow tied to one of his bookmarks

Warning: oral fem receiving

—————————————————————————

Remus couldn’t help but to fall in love with you. You’d always been sweet, always too pure for this world. When you were kids, he couldn’t help but want to protect you. It was in all the boys instincts to protect their best friend’s little sister. But as you got older, you and Remus began to spend time together without James. Your relationship truly started last summer at Potter Manor, when you and Remus started an unofficial book club when the boys would play quidditch for hours outside. You guys just had so much in common, and you were more comfortable being around Remus than any other boy besides James. So the two of you spent a lot of time in the library, reading books together and getting into heated debates about writing styles. It didn’t take long for his eyes to wander to your lips when you smiled at him, and it didn’t take long for you to notice. Before you knew it, the two of you were sneaking off to your room while the boys played quidditch, and locking the door behind you.

So that’s how Remus found himself with his face buried between your thighs in the middle of lunch hour. You’d been reading a novel with his head in your lap, innocently trying to finish your chapter before class. But Remus couldn’t constrain himself. He didn’t care if you had class in twenty minutes, you could go with your cunt pooling under your skirt.

“Remi,” you whined, pulling his hair into a fist. He hummed into your core, fingers massaging your thighs as you clenched around his head.

“Shh, be a good girl and let me finish,” he said hastily, before diving back into your folds. He let his tongue ruin you as you squirmed on his bed. Your shirt was bunched up now, buttons undone and tits pulled out of your bra. Remus chuckled as he thrust two fingers into you. He loved seeing you come undone. You were always perfect, also so innocent. It made Remus hard thinking about being your first, being the only one to make you come. He ground himself down into the mattress as he felt you begin to tighten up under his tongue. He almost told you to be quiet but his mouth was occupied. You shuddered and let out a whiny moan as you came onto his mouth. He grabbed onto your waist as he kissed your cunt and drank every drop you gave him. As you began to relax, he brought himself over you, littering you body with kisses.

“Rem,” you chuckled, “now you made yourself all worked up.” You grabbed hold of him under his pants. He was rock hard and it made your pussy throb just thinking about it inside you. He chuckled and kissed you.

“I’m saving it for you later. Wanna go on an adventure tonight?” Remus smirked, rubbing his thumb on your hip. You nodded eagerly. You wished you could just come to his dorm at night but it wasn’t exactly possible considering your brother slept three feet away from Remus.

“What time is it?” You asked, suddenly remembering you had class. Remus looked at his watch and sucked through his teeth.

“Uh, time for you to go love,” Remus chuckled as he watched you scramble out of his bed and fix your clothes.

“Remus! I told you I was going to be late, ” you scolded him, grabbing your bag and hurriedly putting your tie on. He only chuckled and gave you a kiss on the head as you ran out the door. He took his time getting ready for his class, which involved having a smoke until his dick got soft again. Remus spent the rest of the day in class thinking about you, daydreaming about how you would look tonight when he fucked you. Like a ghost wandering the castle halls, Remus brought himself back up to the dorm after his last class, immediately wanting to have another smoke. James and Sirius were already by the window when he came in.

“There he is Pads,” James chuckled, ashing his cig on the window sill, “go on and ask him.” Sirius’ brows were furrowed and he looked quite mad. Remus was confused until he saw your book in his hand.

“And what the fuck is this?” Sirius asked, shoving the book into Remus’ chest. Remus felt his heartbeat speed up. He was never one to enjoy lying.

“My book, you prat,” Remus quipped, nodding his head towards James to pass him a smoke. James looked thoroughly amused. Sirius let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Your book my ass! What is this then?” Sirius held up your bookmark decorated with a cute little pink bow, just like the one you wore in your hair. Remus was glad that James wasn’t the brightest because anyone who spent time with you knew you loved to tie your hair up with that exact shade of pink. Okay, maybe only Remus noticed, but he couldn’t help that you looked absolutely adorable with it.

“Erm, a bookmark,” Remus tried to play it off, focusing more on his smoke than looking either of the boys in the face. He’d been dreading James finding out, and wanted the right moment to do so. When you were ready to tell him.

“Yeah we can see that,” James laughed again, “but who’s the girl?”

Remus’ heart sank into his stomach. Fuck. James had her same smile, her eyes too. He couldn’t lie to his best friend, especially when it was his little sister he’d been fucking.

“I, um,” Remus choked on his words. Sirius squinted his eyes in scrutiny.

“I knew you’d been acting strange! All happy recently, I knew you had to have been getting some,” Sirius grumbled.

“No, no. It’s not like that,” Remus said quickly, unable to stop himself. It truly wasn’t like that, he was head over heels for you. You were so much more than a fuck to him, even if he did think about fucking you all day long. James eyes lit up.

“Moony, are you in love?” He clapped hands together and smiled, “why didn’t you tell us? Remus! Who is she?” James was positively beaming with excitement now, looking to Sirius who looked a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” Remus cleared his throat, placing your book down on his bed. This was the truth at least. She didn’t want James knowing, mostly because she presumed he would be insanely controlling over their relationship. Remus wasn’t sure she would be wrong about that.

“But, we won’t tell anyone. We won’t, right Sirius?” James pleaded. Sirius rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement. Remus just chuckled uncomfortably and loosened his tie. He felt like he was choking in there.

“Sorry guys, I can’t break the ladies trust,” Remus turned away from the boys and started to change, effectively shutting down the conversation. Now, both Sirius and James were grumbling to themselves, unhappy with their lack of gossip. Remus let out a breath. That was the first time you two had slipped up. You’d have to be more careful.

“Well, if you seriously won’t tell us,” James sighed dramatically, “do you want to go get dinner?” Remus laughed and agreed, happy to spend time with the boys not thinking about his terribly kept secret. The three of them waltzed down to the great hall, making loud and obnoxious jokes at any opportunity they could find. Remus wasn’t quite sure how you and James were related sometimes, you seemed years older in maturity. Once they reached the Gryffindor table, the boys immediately sat out and began to grub. A few minutes in, James eyes lit up towards the entrance hall.

“Hi, Y/N,” James smiled and waved with food in his mouth. Remus heard you chuckle.

“Hi, Jamsie. You’re disgusting,” you stuck your tongue out at James as you passed by the boys. Remus turned around just enough to see your beautiful face and your perfect hair tied up with a pink bow. Shit. In the split second that Remus had before he turned to face James, he prayed to any and every god he could think of, hoping that James hadn’t noticed your bow. His reddening face and clenched jaw told Remus that he had, in fact, noticed. Sirius looked dumbstruck, shaking his head slowly at you as James stood up from the table.

“Y/N. Come here right now,” James growled, causing multiple heads at the table to turn. You stopped smiling and looked between James and Remus. Oh fuck.

[yaniluvs]

here's your mocha latte, with a side of me? ꒰ a l.fx imagine ꒱

~ ۫ 𖨂 𓈒 ☕️ ۟ ៹ 𓂂 ᘡ

masterlist > schedule > main directory

♪┆pairing : lee felix x fem!reader ͏ ♪┆info : cafe barista x customer, uni au, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, cuties. ♪┆ personas: uni students , reader is an anthropology student (wanted to switch a bit :) strangers that go to uni , no mention of hobbies so add yours !! ♪┆word count : 3k ♪┆warnings : tooth rotting fluff. sunshine lixie being himself <3

happy (late) lixie day ! ✰

The café had always been a hidden gem—tucked between two towering bookshops and half-covered in ivy that gave it a quiet magic.

And it was here, in this little coffee haven, that two lives started to intertwine in unexpected ways.

Y/n had been coming here regularly for weeks now, sliding in most mornings with a soft 'hi' and a slight smile. It was warm but polite, like she didn’t want to disrupt the calm that filled the place.

She’d always order the same thing—a mocha latte with extra foam—and settle into her favorite spot by the window. Her table was something of a fortress, surrounded by stacks of books and scattered papers.

She spent hours there, immersed in her work, her gaze often drifting out the window to the trees swaying lazily in the breeze.

But lately, her eyes had been wandering elsewhere.

To the counter, to be exact. Or, rather, to someone behind the counter.

Felix.

The name tag on his forest green apron spelled it out clearly, though it wasn’t hard to remember. He was the type of person you didn’t easily forget.

With sandy blonde hair spilling out from beneath a slightly-too-big beige beanie and eyes that sparkled with some endless, secretive mischief, he looked like he belonged here—like he was part of the café’s unique charm. His presence was as warm as the lights strung along the walls, like a permanent fixture of the place.

Felix had noticed her right away.

To be fair, he noticed everyone, quick with a smile, always ready with a friendly quip, a social butterfly in every sense. But there was something different about this regular—this girl who ordered her mocha latte each morning and tucked herself away by the window.

She seemed like one of those people you saw every day but somehow never really knew. The kind of person you wanted to ask about the story they carried, about what hid behind the small, quiet smile she kept just for herself.

It started out simple enough—a quick glance here, a little smile there, a few “good morning” greetings exchanged over the counter.

The blonde's friends and coworkers had noticed too, occasionally catching him gazing just a beat too long in her direction. They’d nudge him, teasing, and he’d brush it off with a shrug and a grin.

He’d tell himself it was nothing, just a curiosity. But each time she walked in, he found himself a little more drawn in, the pull stronger than he’d ever expected.

~

The first time they really spoke beyond a “hi” and “thank you” was an accident.

One gray afternoon, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/n realized she’d forgotten her prized notebook at home.

She frowned, mildly irritated; she’d planned to spend a few hours working.

Felix, who was wiping down tables near her spot, couldn’t help but notice her furrowed brows, cute, he thought.

“You okay there?” he asked, his voice low but friendly, like he was speaking in the library.

She glanced up, surprised.

“Oh—uh, yeah. I just… forgot my notebook,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.

He grinned, tucking the cloth he was holding into his apron pocket. “A writer, hm? Or a student?”

“Both,” she laughed shyly, her cheeks warming as he leaned in just a bit, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m working on a research paper. And I think I left half my sanity in that notebook.”

Felix laughed, the sound warm and easy, and it made her smile widen a bit. “Research paper? Let me guess. Something thrilling, like organic chemistry or macroeconomics?”

“Close,” she teased. “It’s actually an analysis of cultural symbolism in modern art. You know… riveting stuff.”

“Oh, sounds very serious,” he replied, leaning on the back of the chair across from her. “But I think it’d be more riveting if you had some caffeine to go with it. On the house, maybe?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t—”

“Hey,” he raised a hand, “I insist. For the arts.” His eyes held hers, exaggerating his words with hand actions, a spark of playful sincerity in the gaze.

And so, for the first time, she watched Felix bring her a mocha latte from across the counter, carefully placing it in front of her with a grin that seemed almost too charming for a place as quiet as this café.

~

After that day, things shifted—just slightly, but noticeably.

There were more smiles, more exchanges. She would glance up from her work sometimes, finding the blonde already looking her way, and he’d offer her a quick wink before going back to wiping down tables or taking someone else’s order.

She found herself smiling more than usual, her gaze following him whenever he moved around the café.

One chilly morning, she came in a little later than usual, wrapped up in a thick scarf and shivering slightly from the cool snowy weather outside. Her brown hair, partially were sprinkled with sugar-like snowflakes, as she quickly closed the wooden-glass door behind her.

The guy, who’d been leaning against the counter waiting for her, broke into a grin as soon as he saw her.

“Oh, a little cold, are we?”

She laughed, cheeks heating as soon as she heard his deep voice. “Well, hello to you too, Felix.”

He chuckled, unbothered. “Sooo, should I take a wild guess at what you’re ordering today?”

“Oh, you’re psychic now, too?” she shot back, feigning surprise, raising an eyebrow.

He gasped in mock shock. “You got me. How’d you know?” He tapped his forehead, giving her a mock-serious look. “It’s all in here.”

She laughed, like she always would, watching as he went to make her drink, still playfully speaking as he worked. And as he slid the mocha across the counter toward her, he gave her a look so warm, so familiar, that for a moment, she forgot they were strangers at all.

“You know,” he began, leaning against the counter with a thoughtful expression, “I think I should get to know the mysterious mocha drinker a little better. How else am I supposed to keep nailing your exact order?”

“Oh, is that why?” she replied, biting back a smile. “For the sake of the perfect mocha?”

“Exactly,” he nodded, eyes twinkling. “Only for quality control, of course.”

The two fell into a soft rhythm, like an unspoken dance, each of them taking turns to ask and answer questions, uncovering little pieces of each other’s lives with every passing moment. Felix learned she was studying anthropology, that she had a younger brother who’d recently started university, that her favorite book was Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.

She learned he was majoring in design, that he loved baking as much as he loved making coffee, and that he could spend hours watching old animated films without getting bored.

Just the perfect match, as someone would say.

Eventually, the café became more than just a place for her to work; it became a place for her to find something that felt strangely like home.

And Felix, the friendly barista with the smile that lit up the whole town, was slowly becoming a part of her morning ritual, someone who made her look forward to the quiet hours by the window just a little bit more.

~

The next morning, she noticed a little sketch on her coffee cup, a tiny doodle of a smiling sun with the words, 'Good luck today!' written underneath.

She looked up, catching Felix’s eye, and he smiled, giving her a casual little shrug.

“Thought you could use a little good luck,” he explained, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "You know, for the research presentation today."

"You remembered?" She felt her heart skip, surprised by the unexpected sweetness of the gesture. “Thank you… really.”

Felix gave her a soft smile, one that lingered with unspoken words. “Anytime.”

And she left the café soon, after the moment had made her smile a little wider, a warmth blooming in her chest that she couldn’t quite put into words.

And Felix, well… watched her, like he always did.

He had never felt so drawn to someone he barely knew. It was strange, exciting, and a little scary, but he couldn’t help the feeling that he wanted to know her more. A lot more.

The same day, the slightly-warmer noon, was where he found the same girl sitting in her usual spot by the window, deeply engrossed in the notes spread across her table, as he entered the café for his shift.

The soft clinking of mugs and murmuring of the café filled the air, a familiar comfort. Seemed like a co-worker of his had served her today, or did he? Her eyes shot up to him entering, seeing the bell ring slightly as he closed the door behind him. He was wearing a puffy black jacket, which was now being discarded and hung onto the stand beside the door, while she stared at his figure. As he turned around, their gazes met. He smiled, as bright as ever, sending her heart straight to a marathon.

"Well, hello again," He greeted, walking towards the counter. "How did your presentation go?"

She smiled, "It actually.. went better than I thought it would. Thanks to the latte earlier,"

He nodded, "That's good to hear.. seems like my wishes worked, huh?" A chuckle escaped his lips.

"It sure did," She replied with a smile, interrupted a bit as more customers started to enter the café.

Felix had already returned behind the counter, called by his co-worker, Seungmin.

"You're finally here, oh god," The brunet nudged Felix, handing him the tray of the specific order, freshly brewed. "I thought I would have to end up serving your little love interest her usual, thanks for being late, yeah?" He shot a glare his way, quickly pushing the dumbfounded guy, slightly to leave the kitchen.

"Wait up, how long did you keep her waiti-" The elder opened his mouth to protest, only to be greeted by the soft push. "Just go serve her already, will you!"

Meanwhile, today, Y/n wasn’t as absorbed in her work as she seemed. She’d lift her gaze, watching Felix out of the corner of her eye as he moved towards the counter, hoping he’d glance her way.

And soon enough, he did.

Felix caught her looking, his lips curling into a little smirk as he walked over. “What, am I that distracting?” he teased, setting her mocha latte down with a flourish. He seemed unusually fidgety, fingers tapping against the cup as if he were holding something back.

Y/n laughed, feigning a deep, thoughtful expression. “Maybe. You do have a way of stealing the spotlight.”

He snorted, folding his arms and leaning against the counter. “Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to stare at me.”

“Bold assumption, Felix,” she replied, grinning as she took a sip. Her heart did a tiny flip when he didn’t deny it, his gaze soft as he watched her with that lingering smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting with the.. latte. My fellow barista," He glanced back towards the kitchen, eyes meeting the said guy who seemed to enjoy the other two's moment through the small window. "..ran into some inconveniences."

The blonde only communicated with Seungmin with his eyes, probably motioning his friend to quit being a stalker to the moment.

Soon, the two fell into easy conversation, after serving other customers, his fingers still idly tapping on the counter.

Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, he looked down, scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh, you know,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter. “I was actually wondering if—well, if you’d maybe like to hang out outside this café sometime. Like, more than just a customer and a barista thing?”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected question. But her heart picked up speed, warmth spreading across her cheeks as she smiled up at him. “Like friends?”

“Or like..” he shifted his weight, glancing away for a split second before meeting her eyes with a sheepish grin. “Friends.. who, you know, maybe like each other a little?”

Her heart was practically racing now. She tried to keep her cool, playfully raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you asking me out, Lee Felix?”

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “Only if you say yes. I mean, I’m not going to force you or anything. But, I think, it’d be nice to hang out. Just us. Away from coffee orders and doodles on cups.”

For a moment, she said nothing, just looked at him with a growing smile that seemed to say more than words could. “Okay,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “I’d love that.”

The grin that spread across his face was instant, lighting up his eyes with a joy that made her heart do yet another little flip.

Later that evening, around six, the blonde took her to a cozy, lesser-known part of town where string lights draped over cobblestone pathways, casting a soft, golden glow across small street stalls.

They wandered through rows of trinkets and vintage books, the air filled with a slight chill and the smell of freshly made pastries.

“This place is like a dream,” Y/n murmured, taking it all in as they strolled side by side. “How did you even find it?”

He chuckled, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “I have my ways. Plus, I figured it’d suit you. Quiet, a little hidden, full of character, kind of like our café.”

She nudged him with her shoulder, laughing. “Are you implying I’m quiet and hidden?”

He feigned innocence. “Hey, you’re the one who sneaks into the café all quiet every morning. And as for hidden…” He paused, looking at her with a slight tilt to his head. “I don’t know. Sometimes you just look like you’re lost in your own world. It’s kinda cute, really.”

She felt warmth blossom in her chest, her cheeks flushing as she looked down, smiling to herself. “Well, maybe I was just looking for a place to escape,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his tone playful yet warm. “Lucky for you, I’m an expert at escaping the ordinary. Follow me.”

They drifted from the stalls and found themselves near a small fountain tucked away from the main bustle of the market, framed by ivy and stone benches.

He gestured for her to sit beside him, and as she did, she noticed him fidgeting slightly, his leg bouncing in place.

“You okay?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Me?” He shot her a nervous grin. “Yeah, totally fine. Just, you know, first time actually hanging out. Outside the café, without, like, a counter between us.” He laughed, glancing away. “I don’t usually get nervous around people, but you’re.. different.”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break free. “Good different?”

“The best kind of different,” he murmured, his voice suddenly quiet and sincere.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them charged with a soft intimacy that felt new yet somehow familiar. He hesitantly reached for her hand, his fingers grazing hers in a touch that felt electric, as if every nerve in her body woke up at the contact. As if he was trying to see if it was okay, and did he even know, it was so much more than okay.

They sat there, their fingers intertwined, warmth blooming from their hands into their chests. He was the first to speak, his voice soft but laced with a smile. “You know, I always thought you were one of those people who seemed like they’d have their whole life figured out. But then, I got to know you a little, and I realized maybe…you’re just like the rest of us. Trying to figure things out, one mocha latte at a time.”

She chuckled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Guess you’re not as psychic as you thought. I’m far from having it all figured out.”

“Well,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper, “maybe we can figure it out together.”

Y/n felt her heart swell, warmth spreading from her chest to her cheeks, as she looked down at their joined hands, smiling softly. “I’d like that.”

They spent the rest of the night walking through the quiet streets, talking about everything and nothing—sharing stories, dreams, memories, and hopes they hadn’t even told their closest friends. He would lean closer each time she laughed, the sound sending a thrill down his spine that he was sure she could feel.

As they reached the end of the evening, he walked her back to her apartment, the silence between them comfortable yet buzzing with something neither of them could name.

They stopped just outside her building, and he turned to face her, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “So.. I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Me too,” she whispered, almost breathless, looking up at him as if seeing him in a new light.

They lingered in that moment, their faces close, eyes meeting in a quiet understanding that words couldn’t capture. Felix lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary.

His voice softened, almost a whisper. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at mocha lattes the same way.”

She laughed, biting her lip as she felt her cheeks warm. “Guess that makes two of us, cute, blonde, barista guy.”

He chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Maybe we should try something different next time. Something a little stronger.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Stronger? Like, coffee?”

“Yeah, or…” he hesitated, a teasing smile tugging at his lips, “like feelings?”

She blushed, feeling warmth spread through her chest as she held his gaze. “Guess I’ll have to try that sometime.”

With a gentle, lingering smile, he gave her hand one last squeeze. “Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Lix.”

As he walked away, she stood there, watching him disappear into the street, her heart feeling fuller than it had in a long time.

And for once, she couldn’t wait for the next morning.

a/n. ୨ৎ

HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY TO MY ONE AND ONLY SUNSHINE baby lixie :<< SORRY FOR THE LATE POST !! 😞 if u liked this lmk by commenting or liking <333 check out my post-schedule/masterlist/taglists/etc right here ! thank you for reading >< !! also just fine chp 8 is coming soon ! had too many festivals in my country so hard to update :[ — love, yani ♥︎

thank you for the dividers! ♡︎ @adornedwithlight

[ramshacklerumble]

Party at Ramshackle..? For…who…?

Set to Home Screen: Sit with me.

Home Transition 1: I haven't had a birthday since I was a kid, I hated them. No, this is different. It's nice.

Home Transition 2: Here. We made a bunch of rock candy at the Science Club. Mine are the pink ones.

Home, after login: The guys worked really hard to make Ramshackle look good, come see.

✨NEW ✨ Home Transition (Groovification): Ace’s birthday is two days after mine. He’s trying to convince Riddle to hold an unbirthday party tomorrow.

Tap Home 1: Deuce bought me a new journal. Looks fancy, like a tough field journal with a waterproof pen. He noticed my old one falling apart, I guess...

Tap Home 2: Got a big prickly pear cactus from Jack. He looked at me weird when I said I like'em grilled.

Tap Home 3: Ortho gave me my own Duel Beasts deck since I always borrow from his cards when we play. He has a ultra rare for me, but I gotta beat him first.

Tap Home 4: Epel carried in a huge crate of apple cider. Uh, for me. Not the party. I drink it by the bottle.

Tap Home 5: Kingsley and Sebek both gave me books on flora across Twisted Wonderland, but at different times. They can be so similar sometimes. ...Don't tell them that.

✨NEW ✨Tap Home (Groovification): I’m smiling? Yeah, I do that sometimes.

DUO MAGIC: You got this for me, Grim? / A good boss'gotta take good care of his henchie sometimes!

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @blithesharem @thehollowwriter @jovieinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@felix-cant-ski @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade (dm to be added)

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [Teaser]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

A/N: Credits to @sundaybossanova for contributing the main idea of Mingi's spinoff. I might have changed most of the proposed plot, but the MC's identity as a physician and how the two first meet remains Sunny's idea.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 1

"Ooh, guess who's here again," your colleague remarked, nodding toward the entrance of the royal medical hall where a certain tall, handsome military strategist strode in for what felt like the thousandth time this week. You sighed, refusing to look up from your book. "Please tell me it's not him."

She gulped, watching him approach. "Hate to break it to you, but it is your not-so-secret admirer, General Officer Song."

"Good afternoon, ladies. I, uh… I'm here today because—" his familiar deep voice rang out as he paused at a respectful distance.

Clearing your throat, you finally closed your book and turned to face him with a courteous smile, finishing his sentence for him, "Good afternoon to you too, Officer Song. Let me guess, you're here because you got hurt during training again?"

Instead of the usual sheepish nod, he shook his head and nervously fiddled with his fingers. "No, actually… I came to ask if… i-if you would like to accompany me to the royal banquet celebrating Joseon's unity with Ruhon tonight, Royal Physician Ahn?"

You froze at his question, and your colleague mirrored your reaction. The two of you exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the fact that this fool was openly pursuing you, a woman working in the palace, someone who belonged to the King.

Does he realise what he's doing?

You're probably wondering why I'm posting this on a Wednesday (depending on where you are) but it's a public holiday here today in Malaysia, so surprise!! It's finally Princess Mingi's turn! The way y'all thought his spinoff would be the first and here he is HAHA

In case you're confused and are not sure what I mean by MC belonging to the King, please read ✨this✨

As always, I'll do my best to get the first part out as soon as I can! Let me know your thoughts on the concept! <3

Tag list (1/9):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[party-hearses]

relax, baby | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI

wordcount: 5k

summary: joel is full of surprises at work.

series warnings/tags: pwp, explicit smut, v fingering, brief oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, pet names (princess, baby), language, no cordyceps outbreak, lmk if i’m forgetting anything. honestly, this is just filth.

author's note: i wrote this instead of doing homework. my smut abilities are a little rusty, so here’s my attempt at getting them working again. feedback and reblogs are appreciated if you enjoy! <3

“‘Sposed to be a scorcher today.”

“‘Sposed to be a scorcher every fucking day,” you mumble into the receipt book splayed open in front of you.

He isn’t wrong, of course. Just irritating. The Texas summer heat is unrelenting at best, but it’s not anything new.

“What was that, princess?”

You grimace at the nickname. Stupid fucking Joel Miller, your brother’s boss, taunting you while he rummages through the filing cabinet shoved into the corner of the room opposite you.

Your boss, now, too. Sort of.

“Nothin’.”

“S’what I thought.” He pulls his body up to its full height, having found what he was searching for. He holds the file of paperwork in his hands like a prize, slamming the drawer of the unit shut. “You’re lucky to have AC in here, princesa. Not like the rest of the guys, out there in the sun.”

You roll your eyes skyward at the jab. It hadn’t taken long for you to be branded with different variations of the nickname, which, much to your chagrin, isn’t even inventive. The names the guys call you usually revolve around your new position as “office admin” (a made up term), and the considerable comfort (if it could be called that) it offers. Low hanging fruit, in your opinion.

Your brother tells you to laugh it off, to take it as a compliment. A means of being accepted. It’s not worth the argument about power dynamics and the stigma of being a woman in a male dominated profession, especially for a temporary position, so you do your best to ignore it. It’s not like your brother would understand your points, anyway.

“You’re the boss, Joel. You don’t have to be — out there.” You wave your hand at the window, grimy with dust and…grime. Unknown construction grime. Men, you shudder.

“Oh, yeah? Guess I could just post up in here all day with you, huh?” He’s looking at you now, hands on his hips, smirk pulled across his mouth. He grips the file in his hand against his waist, strong fingers nearly crumpling it in half.

He’s irritating, but fuck, if he isn’t gorgeous. All taut muscles, graying scruff, and big, sad, brown eyes. It’s hard to keep your own eyes off him regularly, but it’s an exercise in futility the rare times you’re alone with him.

But you shrug, coolly, playing off the damning attraction you feel towards him. “I don’t care what you do, Miller.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, and he’s there, across the desk from you, palms planted face-down on the cool wood, chin dipped.

You swallow hard, meeting his smoldering eyes. It’s impossible not to notice his tee shirt, Miller Construction scrawled across the left breast, pulling against his chest and biceps. He’s so fucking big.

“You should care, sweetheart, ‘cause you run—” He leans in closer.

“—the whole—” Closer still.

“—fucking—”

You can smell the cedar and sawdust on him. The distinctly masculine scent. it makes your head swim.

“—office,” He finishes, inches away from your face.

Your eyes widen.

“I mean- uh, well, of cou-“ you stutter, but he’s laughing, pulling away.

Narrowing your eyes, you slam the receipt book shut. “Shouldn’t you be at a different site? Not here, bothering me?”

He grins, still chuckling lowly, permanently-tousled curls begging to be pulled.

“You tell me,” he says, gesturing to the now-closed notebook with his chiseled jaw. “You’re my keeper, ain’t ya?”

This fucking guy.

You blow the air out of your cheeks, exasperated.

“I am not,” you say slowly, through gritted teeth, “your keeper. I am helping you out by cleaning up your books and organizing some schedules, while I’m home for the summer. As a favor to my brother.”

He tilts his head, grin giving way to a sly smile. Saying nothing.

“Wouldn’t be working in a fucking trailer for anyone else,” you grumble pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I am payin’ ya, though.”

Joel tosses the file in front of you and drags a chair from the other side of the room — other side of the trailer — to a stop in front of the desk you’re seated at. He plants himself in it, kicking his feet up on the top of the desk.

“For real?” you cry, throwing your hands above your shoulders.

He laughs. He fucking laughs.

“Take it easy, princess. If I’m the boss, and I’m kickin’ back, why are you so high strung?”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t respond.

This strange, almost playful Joel is under your skin more than usual. It might be the heat (you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it), or the clusterfuck of receipts you should be reconciling (that he gave you at the last minute) — but you suspect the annoyance comes from his newfound interest in teasing you.

You suddenly miss the silent, brooding Joel Miller. The one who left you alone to do your work.

“I’m trying to help you,” you finally spit.

“You can help me by relaxin’, darlin’.” His voice is suddenly low, a deep timbre that vibrates your bones. “Do I need to help you do that?”

His words shoot straight to your cunt.

Instinctually, you press your thighs together, squirming in your seat.

It’s been too long since you’ve been touched, since you’ve been handled properly — the only viable hook-up options in your hometown being the losers you’d gone to high school with, which made them, well…not viable options.

Your body betrays you, need building low in your belly, and of course Joel notices the way you shift in the chair.

The entire tone of the room shifts, if you’re being honest.

“Oh,” his eyes as dark as his voice now, “you do need my help.”

You freeze. Everything in his voice spells t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

“No,” you squeak, “I- I-“

“You, what, baby?” It’s a taunting lilt now, and you feel like every nerve ending you have is melting straight off your body. He quirks his brow at you.

Baby, baby, baby, echoing in your ears.

He raises his body out of the chair, squaring his broad shoulders, and you think your heart might stop.

Making his way around the desk, hands ghosting the edges of the worn wood, his eyes burn into yours.

“So lucky all my guys are out at other sites, baby.” He’s whispering now, dragging his knuckle across your cheek, closer than he’s ever been to you. Looking down at you from his towering height. “So I can help you relax.”

There are stars in your eyes. You don’t even like this man, but his hands on you feel so good.

It’s surreal. You’re just a deer caught in the headlights, looking up at him with your big doe-eyes.

Prey.

You’re sure he’ll pull away again, laugh at you — laugh at the way your pulse picks up under his touch. How it beats against your skin like a bass drum.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he twists his wrist to cup your jaw, strong fingers digging into your flesh. Your lips part involuntarily, a quiet moan escaping.

“Wanna fuck you, princess.” His words are sticky honey in your ears, the nickname hot on his tongue. “Been wantin’ to fuck you.”

All you can do is nod. You’re done for. Putty in his hands, now.

“Can I do that? Fuck you?” He drops to a crouch in front of you, sliding his hand down your flushed skin to your throat, angling his fingers, the delicate webbing between his index finger and thumb pressed right to the base of your neck. He squeezes so so so gently — just enough to make you chase his touch.

“Yes.”

His eyes are black, pupils blown out in arousal. “You’ll be good for me?”

“I’ll be good for you,” you repeat obediently. Quietly. Only for him.

It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of the words leaving your mouth.

He crashes his mouth into yours, taking, taking, taking. Massaging your bottom lip with his scorching tongue, he begs for entrance — and you know in this moment, you will never deny him a single thing.

He licks into you with such a feverish intensity that you have to throw your arms around his shoulders just to remain steady. This action seems to spur him on, as he slides both his hands around your hips, one pulling you closer to him while the other crawls up to cradle the base of your skull, fingers threaded into your hair. He’s crouched over you entirely, nearly dragging you off the office chair. Your own fingers dig into the shoulders of his shirt, his thick muscles dragging you closer and closer to him.

Small in his hands, he breaks his mouth from yours only to haul you up and around, pressing your belly against the desk, your arms jelly as they brace against the sturdiness of the wood. He pulls your shirt up and over your shoulders from the back, peppering kissing up the exposed flesh of your spine, before discarding the garment on the floor. Your bra is next, and he wastes no time in chucking it too, to the floor and using his big hands to cup your pert tits from behind. His whole body is pressed against yours, the buckle of his belt scraping against the small of your back.

“Knew you’d have perfect tits,” he growls, next to your ear. His fingers expertly roll your nipples, massaging them into tight points. It makes you want to cry out. He licks a broad stripe up your throat, nipping the skin just above your shoulder, and this time, you do cry out.

“Be loud for me, baby. Wanna make you feel good.”

“What if s-someone hea-“ you start nervously, your voice shaking as much as your limbs.

Bracing his mouth against yours again, tongue forcing its way in to explore every inch, he cuts off the question you were going to ask.

Ignores the question.

He moves his mouth down your neck again, fingers still kneading against your nipples. Your eyes flick to the deadbolt of the door anxiously, but an extra-hard pinch pulls your focus back as you moan involuntarily. Loudly.

Obviously enjoying himself, he drops one hand to your tummy, sliding it over your soft skin to the band of your shorts.

“Gonna take these off now, okay, baby?” he asks between kisses and nips against your flesh, peppered with goosebumps.

You nod hurriedly. Need thrums in your ears, washes everything except his voice out.

His hand still cupping your breast joins the other in unbuttoning your shorts, and they’re off in record time. They fall to your feet, and you kick them off haphazardly, not caring where they end up.

The only thing separating Joel from you now is your panties, black and lacy and soaked.

You recognize, dismayed, that he still has all of his clothes on, but he’s too busy with his hands on you to notice.

He turns you around to face him, stepping back just enough to rake his eyes over every inch of you. You steady yourself on the edge of the desk with your hands, the hard corner biting into the soft flesh of the backs of your thighs.

“Fu-u-u-ck.” He lets out a low whistle, and for a brief second, you want to cover your body with your arms, slink away shyly.

But he has his hand cupped around your sex lightning fast, and he groans, low and primal.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, baby. Soakin’ through your panties.”

He ducks against your neck again, landing kisses down the length of it, but going further this time, down your breast to take your nipple into his mouth. He suckles gently, hand moving back and forth over the white heat of your cunt, and you arch your back against him. Your body filled with a furious tension, tight as a bowstring.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Take y-your shirt off,” you demand suddenly, your hands scrambling for purchase on the the scratchy material.

He pulls back from you, and you’re left panting, three quarters naked. Nipples impossibly hard from both his mouth and the air conditioning, and you can tell he’s inconvenienced to be pulled away from them.

But he acquiesces, shucking his shirt off quickly, desperate to lave his tongue over your flesh again.

You take him in in the entirety that he’s allowed you — strong but soft, body molded by years of manual labor, rough hands desperate to be stroking you.

Not allowing you too much time, he resumes his stance in a hurry, splaying his hands across your back, nibbling lightly at the supple flesh of your breasts. He runs his tongue over the heavy curve of it, before dragging it across the plane of your chest to the opposite side, taking your other nipple into the heat of his mouth.

Keening under his touch, you mewl his name. Desperate.

“I know, baby. I know.” It’s muffled against the weight of your breast. His teeth just grazing the tender flesh.

He brings one hand around to the front of your panties again, teasing the band stretched over the place your thigh meets your pelvis with his calloused fingertips. The bite of them scrape a heavenly sting against your softness.

You rock your hips up into his palm, begging. Please, please, please. He chuckles lowly against your skin, still biting gently at your nipple, your knuckles white on the edge of the desk.

He breaks his mouth off of you, looking up to meet your eyes through his long, dark lashes.

There’s still one of his hands steady on your back, and combined with the way he’s got himself pressed against you, you’re sure he’s the only reason you’re somewhat vertical right now. The bones in your legs threaten to give out the more attention he pays your body. He ruts his erect length against your thigh.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?”

“Want it so bad,” you echo — his plaything.

“Should’ve asked me a long time ago. Teasin’ me constantly. Makin’ me fuck my fist at night like a teenage boy.” He straightens his body, allowing his thumb to dance over your clit through the material of your panties, but refusing to make direct contact. Making you chase the feeling with your hips.

The notion that he’s ever thought of you in that way makes your cunt tingle.

“Need it, Joel.”

You don’t have the words to tell him how long you’ve thought about him, how even though he pisses you off, you’ve wanted him to fuck you over this very desk since you started working for him. How it’s been too long since you’ve been touched and now you think you’re ruined in the most delectable way.

With a dark smile against your skin, he finally moves his hand over just enough, sliding four fingers down the front of your panties, thumb still on the outside, and fists the thin material. It rips down the seams, and in one smooth motion, he pulls the ruined lace from your body.

You gasp, cold air hitting your cunt.

He takes the destroyed scrap of material and palms his hard cock through his jeans, rubbing the lace against the front of himself. It’s obscene, and you can’t take your eyes off it.

Fighting to catch your breath, overwhelmed by his touch, you watch as he pulls back to shove what used to be your panties in his front pocket before unbuckling his belt, snapping it quickly out of the loops, hands flying then to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He finally shoves them down to knees, the length of them bunching up over his work boots.

Left in his boxers, you can see the thick outline of his cock, and he’s huge.

You had expected him to be big — like, look at him — but it’s more than you could have fathomed.

Your eyes drag from the heavy bulge back up to his face, and he must clock the apprehension in your eyes, because he extends his hand to your cheek, cupping it tenderly.

“Promise I’ll make it feel good. Won’t put it in until you’re ready.”

His hands are large enough over your face that his thumb traces the outline of your parted lips. Without thinking, you open further to accept it inside, swirling your scorching tongue around the digit.

His eyes darken further, though you didn’t know it possible.

“Oh, baby. Baby.”

His head falls back, jaw slack, enjoying the sensation of your mouth on him.

With his other hand, he slides his fingers through your swollen, dripping folds, gathering your slick on the rough tips. He circles your hole with his middle finger, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing, needing.

“This okay?” he asks quietly, and you pause, meeting his gaze with your own. As calm and collected as he looks, his voice shakes just enough to tell you that he’s rehearsed this scene in his head so many times.

You don’t really know how you got here, if you’re being honest, but…

“Want you so bad, Joel,” you whisper, thoughts hazy, pupils blown out.

“Gonna fuck you ‘til all you can say is my name,” he whispers back gruffly.

It makes your cunt clench, his finger still poised there. Your chest rises and falls with ragged breath, anticipating. You can’t imagine how fucked-out you look right now, but based on the way he’s drinking you in, he loves it.

He finally presses his single finger inside of you, groaning at the warmth.

“So tight for me, princesa.”

The nickname hits differently this time — intimate. Filthy. Filling you with desperation.

You cry out at the stretch, his hands so much bigger than your own. One finger of his is the size of two of yours, and you’ve never felt so full. You snake your arms around his shoulders, letting him hold you up, his other hand falling from your cheek to resume it’s place at the small of your back, as he slowly starts a rhythm of fucking into you. His palm stutters against your clit, and you can feel your slick dripping down onto it.

It’s so much.

Your senses are overloaded with him, and he hasn’t even put his cock in you, yet.

He does, however, nudge a second finger at your entrance, and it’s enough to make you drop your forehead onto his broad shoulder, his muscles rippling as his wrist and fingers move against you.

You press your open mouth into his shoulder, muffling your cries.

Sliding his ring finger in beside the other, he scissors them, stretching you open, open, open, while at the same time he performs a much more precise ministration on your clit, rubbing small circles that make you squeeze your eyes shut. Chests pressed flush against one another, he buries his face in the length of your hair.

Despite the air conditioner, the room is humid with body heat, and sweat starts to collect at your temples. Every inch of your skin is flushed, Joel breathing heavily next to your ear.

“Want you to come for me, baby. Can’t fuck you right ‘til you come for me.”

You lean further into his body, under the trance of the rhythm of his fingers. He drags his free hand up the length of your back to wrap around your hair, gently pulling your head back to look into your eyes.

“uh-uh, baby. Wanna see you. Don’t hide.”

Your cheeks flush crimson, your eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen. Seeing the way he studies you, the tip of his tongue resting on the pillow of his top lip, his fingers so big inside of you — your orgasm approaches quickly, your hips working with his hand to get you there.

Your breathing starts to stutter, and his eyes are on fire watching you. Memorizing every movement you make, how he’s taken you apart at the seams. He speeds up the movement of his thumb, just slightly, but it’s enough to tip you over the edge.

Convulsing around his thick fingers, you cry out, loud, loud, loud. The deadbolt on the door a distant memory.

In fact, you dare someone to walk in. To fuck with Joel Miller taking what he needs from you. They’d never recover.

“Yes, baby. Look so fuckin’ beautiful coming all over my fingers,” he growls, fucking you through the electric waves rolling through your body, tugging your hair harder.

He’s kissing you again, swallowing your remaining moans into his mouth, and you feel like you’ll never recover. You may never walk again — and it’s just his fingers.

Sliding his fingers out of your pulsing pussy, he drags them over to your hip, your own slick smeared across your abdomen. He drops his other hand to your other hip, and before you know what’s happening, he’s lifting you up on top of the desk. On top of the files, and receipts, and work you’d just been doing.

If he doesn’t care, then neither do you.

Obediently leaning back on your elbows, he sets you far enough back that he can hook his hands under your knees to pull them closer to you, your tennis shoes dangling between you. It makes you giggle, which makes him smirk.

But it’s only a second before he’s pushing your knees back again, opening you up to him. His eyes drop to your glistening pussy, pink and swollen from his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ to see this little pussy,” he hisses, before dropping his head to lick a hot stripe up your wet center.

“Holy shit, Joel,” you breathe, “that feels so good.”

He licks his lips, your sweetness shiny on his beard. “Next time I’ll make you come with just my mouth, baby. Need’ta fuck you, now.” His voice is low, but the promise of next time wraps itself around your chest and squeezes.

You bite your lip, nodding, watching him through your lashes.

He gently sets your legs down enough that your feet drop to the top of the desk, but he keeps one hand on your thigh to keep you open for him — exposed.

“Won’t ever get tired of lookin’ at that pussy, baby,” he coos, “so keep it open for me.”

You’ve never been talked to this way before, and it sets your skin alight. Never been handled this way before.

You’re so fucked.

With his free hand he shoves his boxers down, his hard cock bobbing back up against the dark hair trailing below his bellybutton with a wet thwack. All of the blood you have left in your body rushes to your cunt (you’re sure most of it was there already), and your mouth pops open involuntarily.

You know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. He’s so. fucking. big.

“Will it…um, will-“ you stammer, gaze dragging up his body to his face.

He crowds you, a deep hunger in his eyes, hard cock in his fist. Poised at your entrance, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Know you can take it, baby,” he growls.

“Okay,” you whimper, warmth blooming across your chest.

He slides his empty hand under your thigh, caressing the skin gently — a stark contrast from the way he’s gripping his cock with his other hand. It feels reassuring, almost tender.

“Ready?”

You mewl, scooting your ass an inch or so forward to egg him on. He grips your thigh, his large hand spreading all the way beneath it.

He presses into you slowly — excruciatingly slowly — but it’s enough to make you drop your head back and whine at the delicious stretch. He keeps his hand at the base of his cock, and you’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his.

His eyes are glued to where he’s breached your entrance, watching you stretch to accommodate his girth, and it takes his breath away.

“Fuck, princess. So tight. So fuckin’ perfect for me,” he grunts, but it’s gentle, as if he’s in awe of you.

The sting of it gives way to furious pleasure, and you want him to move faster as he gives you more of himself.

“Joel,” you whisper, face to the ceiling, “faster, please.”

He grunts again, but feeds more of his cock into your hole, sliding his palm around the curve of your thigh to rub your clit. It send electric shocks through your limbs, your pussy clenching around him at the sudden pleasure radiating from your center.

Your knees are still pressed into your chest, folded practically in half, and he keeps going, and going, and going, until his pelvis is pressed flush to yours, bottoming out inside of you.

He stills, breathing ragged, to grip your jaw and bring your head down, saying through clenched teeth, “Lookit, baby. Lookit that. You took all’f me. The whole fuckin’ thing. I want you t’see.”

Your eyes, half-lidded, gaze at where he disappears into you, your aching lips strained against him.

“Made for me,” he says, and you can tell how much he’s restraining himself by the way he ticks his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut.

Thinking about anything but how fucking good your pussy feels wrapped around him.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, “Joel, please.” You lift both your feet off the desk, wrapping them around his waist in an effort to pull him in closer — to make him move faster.

“Baby,” it’s his turn to drop his head back, snarling at your tightness. But he gives you what you need, rocking his hips into you finally.

Pleasure swirls in your core, and you know it won’t take long. He’s still rubbing your clit, but the movements are erratic and messy, his focus on how good you feel on him. His other hand inches up your side, grabbing at your breast, anchoring himself to you while the bottom half of his body thrusts in and out of you expertly.

You’re both dewy with sweat, and as you’re lost in the way he moves against you, feeling the tip of him bumping up into the furthest depths of you, he leans forward and licks up a stray bead of perspiration rolling down your neck.

The eroticism of it makes your whole body shudder, and he gasps at the way your body reacts to him.

“Not gonna last long, princess. Feels too good,” he manages to spit out, subconsciously increasing his speed drilling into you. He can’t believe he has you open so wide, taking all of him.

He knew the moment he saw you that you were made to take his cock.

“Gonna come, Joel.”

“Come for me, baby. Gimme one more,” he encourages huskily, opening his eyes to watch you raise your hips to meet his every thrust.

Knowing that he’s watching you drags you higher and higher until the tension of your body snaps, soaking his abdomen with your release.

His hips stutter against you, and he stills as your cunt tightens even more around him, your walls fluttering against every inch of him. His thumb, still grazing your clit, presses into it firmly, making your toes curl.

“Joel,” you drag his name out in a harsh whisper, fireworks bursting behind your eyes. It’s never been like this. You can’t go back to it not being like this.

He’s right — it doesn’t take long, you whimpering his name pushing him past the point of no return, and he spills inside of you, his cock pumping every drop he has.

Your legs tighten around him, holding him in place as he slams both palms down on either side of you on the desk, a deep growl emitting from his chest. His tousled hair hangs in front of his eyes, his neck and chest flushed red.

“Fuuuuck.” He mumbles, sliding his cock out of you so, so slowly. As if he doesn’t want to pull out ever.

You release your legs just enough to let him step back, but as you go to close your legs, his spend dripping out of your stretched open pussy, he grabs your thigh and wrenches it back open.

“Waitaminute,” he grunts, and you can feel his other hand searching for something across the top of the desk, scrambling through the files and papers you had neatly stacked.

Busy trying to catch your breath, you don’t notice when he brings his phone to the front of you, opening his camera and snapping a photo of him dripping out of you.

“Joel! Ohmygod!” you giggle, as he smirks at you. Your cheeks flush deeper at the idea of him keeping that photo, of even wanting that photo, and you bat his hand away and close your legs quickly.

“I’ll delete it if’ya want,” he offers, but you both know that not what you want.

You hum teasingly.

“S’what I thought,” he says, running a gentle hand over your now-closed knees. “‘Sides, gotta keep something to remind you that you’re mine.” His hand follows the curves of your body to your tits, and he tweaks your nipple one final time.

Leaning in to kiss you, his tongue warm in your mouth, he whispers against you, “Better put your panties on, princess. Gotta keep it all inside you.” Prying your legs apart again just enough to slide his palm through them, he cups your sex with his large hand.

“You tore ‘em to pieces,” you whisper back, a dark smile on your lips. “Pretty sure what’s left of them is in the pocket of your jeans.”

“Mmm, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to fill you up again and find a way to make sure you can keep it in.”

Electricity shoots through you, and you miss his hand as soon as he pulls it away to drag his boxers and jeans up.

You drop your legs, despite how much they’re shaking, and pick up your clothes scattered across the room. Once you’re dressed (as much as you can be without panties), you stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, while he does what he can to tame his hair with his fingers. It makes you laugh, and he matches it warmly. He kisses you again and again.

“Why don’t you, uh, take the rest of the day off? Done plenty of work here. I can clean up,” he smirks at you, nodding his head to the messy desk, where you’re pretty sure some of his cum had slipped out.

“Gee, thanks, boss. Can’t wait to get back to it Monday.” You wink at him, pulling your body away and picking your bag up from the coat rack next to the door. Hand on the doorknob, you glance back at him, a smirk of your own on your face.

“Oh, and because you didn’t ask — I am on birth control.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you laugh and close the door behind you, headed home.

You don’t even know how fucked you are, yet.

[wraithdance]

Do you have any advice when it comes to dating straight men?

Short answer? Don’t. Long answer, under le cut we go for Calvary’s survival guide to dating men🙄

Actually curious why you want advice from my emotionally bereft ass but lmaooo. I’ll give you the advice I give my male dating family members and friends

1. Do not go into dating men desperate

you need to have at least the barest amount of confidence in who you are and what you want before dating a singular man.

Like I mean that shit, I’m not kidding. You don’t have to be self confident enough to write a self help book, but you need to be able to feel as if you can walk away when you are disrespected. no matter what fantasy you have of love, you WILL be disrespected babe. Learn early how to identify it when it happens and walk the fuck away with your self respect when it’s too much for you to ignore.

2. Do not let being ‘nice’ keep you from finding your dream partner

Start off with a working list of what kind of man you want and be as detailed and insane about it as possible. I mean everything down to what color underwear he wears if that’s something that might be a point of contention with you.

After you have that list write some hard rules for how a man is allowed to speak/act towards you and use that as a litmus test for if you continue a relationship. It is a privilege to be near you not a guaranteed right, so reinforce that or get walked over

3. Masturbate frequently and have your options open

Legit work out any hang ups surrounding sex and consider dating more than one person at a time so you don’t get stuck romanticizing one man.

No, that doesn’t mean you have to fuck all of them, but getting used to going on dates helps with nerves and prevents you from making the mistake of thinking you found ‘the one’ because you’re seeing the same dude. Please invest in a sex toy or 3. Being horny will get you into trouble!!

4. Do not trust a man’s word over your own senses

People lie. Don’t believe shit a man says unless he backs it up with receipts. He says he has a condo in France? ask to see the deed. He got his std labs done last week? Ask him to go with you to your regular doctor for a new screening.

Protect yourself always and if he gets mad that’s a red flag. Do not pass go because it’s life or death out here, babes. Which leads me to

5. Be a bitch. Be the biggest bitch you can be

Legit fuck every single thing anyone ever told you about being nice to a man. Work on getting comfortable with being an asshole and calling them out or you will be pushed over. This honestly goes for any gender like be a literal cunt when the time warrants it.

Someone pushy about you not letting them back to your place? Be loud and tell them they’re making you uncomfortable. Someone negging you? Look them in their eye and lean close, tell them “you know, when I first met you I thought you were a lot smarter. I guess not, since you had the nerve to say that to me without any regrets.”

Don’t like the date? Leave. That simple. It’ll save you heart ache and sometimes save your life.

Uh if you have more specific questions you can follow up but those are my top five rules. Men aren’t some scary mythical creature or hard science experiment. It’s all about setting yourself up to get what kind of love story you want. Good luck babes you’re gonna need it!!

MWAHH 💋💖

[inuyashaluver]

i love your lessi fics so much<3 could you do a j flex x non footballer reader where they are both really shy and r goes to a chelsea match and sees jessie after the match but the other tease them and they both get flustered or smthn? thank you!!!

a couple of shy guys - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which being your girlfriend’s wag still makes her extremely shy

warnings: swearing, suggestive

a/n: hiya, lovely! thanks so much for the love request, enjoy!! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, jessie are both incredibly shy people. it wasn’t uncommon for both of you support pink cheeks around each other when the other merely glances your way. it took a long time for either of you to make a move.

—

in 2020, you were studying in a cafe. you were currently a medical student studying to be a doctor while working at a small pub. the icy chill in england prompting you to bundle up and stay in the warm cafe as you tiredly read over your notes.

this cafe was your second home, it was extremely close to your house, as well as your uni, comforting and convenient all at the same time.

“to go please” the cafe was mainly filled with locals, so you couldn’t help but lift your head when you heard the unfamiliar canadian accent filling the atmosphere.

she was gorgeous, dressed in a training kit as she waited near the counter for her drink, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. ironically, your name was called, you hesitate but walk over to the counter.

“excuse me” you say softly, moving past the brunette quickly to retrieve your warm drink. she lifts her head from her phone and moves over, looking at one of the most beautiful girls in front of her.

“oh, uh, y-you’re all good” jessie breathes out, internally cursing herself for stuttering. you look up at her and make eye contact, nearly dropping your drink in the process but smiling at her shyly nonetheless, taking in her pink cheeks and chelsea jacket adorning her body. “thanks” you smile, when you turn away from her, you scrunch up your face, why were you so awkward?

jessie glances at you longingly before she walks out, desperately wanting to go up to you but shutting herself down, she needs to go to training, she can’t afford to miss her first day. you watch as she leaves, shaking your head at yourself for not having the guts to even talk to her.

—

a few days go by and you’re returning to your flat from uni, struggling to hold all your textbooks in your arms as your bag was too full. your hands were fumbling with your keys when you hear footsteps approaching making you nervous and prompting you to speed up, you just couldn’t find the right key.

it was when you dropped one of the books from the top of the pile that you lost all your patience.

“oh for fucks sake” you groan, leaning down to pick up the book before dropping all of them in the process. you huff out in frustration, about to pick them up before two hands beat you to it.

you stare at the hands carefully collecting your books before looking up to see the girl from the cafe. you look at her absolutely starstruck.

“hi, (y/n)” she says nervously, holding the pile of books in her arms, you swallow the lump in your throat when she remembers your name from the cafe. “hello” you breathe out, fiddling with your keys for a second just looking at each other.

“you live here?” jessie questions, nodding her head to the door you were standing in front of. “oh, yeah! sorry” you laugh nervously, hands shakily unlocking the door before turning around to her with a bashful expression.

she smiles at you, her cheeks pink, she gently hands you the stack of books and you look at her appreciatively.

“thank you so much..” you pause, she smiles, “jessie” filling in the blank, you nod repeating her name in your head, “jessie, thank you, really” you say relieved, she smiles sympathetically, “rough day?” she guessed, you looked exhausted and you were. one of your final exams for your third year at uni was fast approaching and it was taking a huge toll on your body.

“yeah, you could say that” you say with a little laugh, “i’ll let you go” she says reluctantly, moving to unlock her door which was coincidentally across from yours. you smile and give her a little wave, closing your door and immediately thumping your head on the back of it. it was a perfect opportunity to ask for her number and you didn’t do it. little did you know, jessie was doing the same thing in the back of her door.

—

it was a saturday, you were working your regular shift at the local pub. you were pouring a beer for one of your regulars until you heard a loud chatter of female voices coming in. you look up from the tap to see none other than jessie with a couple of other girls behind her.

your eyes widen and the beer overflows, “fuck, sorry, george, i’ll pour you a new one” you say apologetically, quickly grabbing another glass and getting rid of the old one. “don’t stress, love” you were alone, as it was a usually a quiet pub but not anymore.

you give him the new one and he thanks you, moving to another table while you wipe down the bar.

that’s when a familiar brunette makes her way, laughing loudly with a taller girl. “excuse me?” jessie asks politely, eyes widening in shock when you turn around. she looks down at your work uniform, a tight pair of black shorts with a black shirt making her heart pound out of her chest.

the taller looks at her with a knowing smirk, nudging the girl forward when she ogles over you.

“hi, (y/n)? you work here?” she asked a little too excitedly, you nod shyly, “hey, jessie, can i get you girls anything?” you ask sweetly, jessie swears she melted into a puddle right there.

“i’m niamh” the taller girl points out, sticking her hand out for a handshake which you gladly take, “niamh, nice to meet you” you laugh, “nice to meet you too” she smiles, giving another shove to jessie when she looks at you bewildered.

“can i just have a beer, please?” niamh smirks, you nod and grab a glass to pour her one. “jess?” you question, her breath hitches at the nickname she’s heard thousands of times but never from your pretty voice. “oh! um, i’ll just get a beer too” she rushes out, “please” she adds, her cheeks crimson when you giggle.

you get them both their drinks and smile, telling them it was on the house despite the refusal from the two girls, you sent them on their way to the rest of their friends.

after a short time of you and jessie stealing glances at each other, you anxiously walk up to their table to clear the glasses, hearing little “thank you”’s as you clear each person’s glass. when you approach jessie, you smile shyly, pointing to her glass.

“can i get that for you?” she nods and smiles back at you, your eyes suddenly fall to a medal hanging on her neck that you didn’t see at the bar.

you mindlessly pick it up off her chest and look over it. you hear jessie stop breathing and you look up to see how close you were in proximity. “sorry!” you blurted, taking a little step back. jessie just shakes her head and looks at you, both of you have the pinkest cheeks, it was painfully obvious you had something there.

you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, looking up to see niamh smiling at you sweetly. “we just won a championship, we’re here to celebrate” niamh informed, quickly glancing at jessie, “this one over here got us the winning goal” you look at jessie impressed, trying not to laugh at the glare she sent to niamh.

“well, congratulations!” you emphasised, “you didn’t tell me you were a footballer?” you tease, jessie coughs, “it’s not a big deal” she shrugs, completely embarrassed for some reason. you shake your head, “of course it’s a big deal” you assure, taking her glass and throwing her another smile,

“you should come and watch us!” niamh teases, throwing you a wink that you laugh at. “maybe i will” you shrug before walking back to the bar. you didn’t miss the harsh slap jessie gave niamh as you walked away, chuckling to yourself in the process.

the bar was emptying, and you were close to closing. niamh waves at you before walking out with some other girls, leaving jessie alone at the table. she looks nervous but she walks up to you anyway. “did you want to walk home together?” she offers with a shy smile, you look at her surprised, “sure!” you say a little too excitedly, causing you to cringe when she giggles at you.

you close up and walk alongside jessie, sharing shy giggles and small talk to the short walks to both of your places. when you walk on the busy streets with cars zooming past, jessie subconsciously places a hand on your waist to move you to the inside of the sidewalk. your cheeks were burning and you tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

when you both got inside, you wave, sharing quick bye’s before heading inside. you both touch your warm cheeks behind closed doors, smiling at the thought of all the interactions you had with each other that night.

—

you and jessie continuously ran into each other almost everyday, both of you questioning whether it was truly coincidental or not.

it took another shift at the pub for jessie to finally ask you out, the newfound confidence coming from niamh teasing the girl that she would ask you out if jessie didn’t.

“hi” she says shakily as she approaches you, you smile lazily at the girl, absolutely exhausted but seeing her perks you up. “hello” you smile, “another one?” you question, she shakes her head and swallows. “no, uh, i wanted to ask you something” she says nervously, you smile and cross your arms on the bar, leaning forward to be closer to her.

she visibly tenses but shakes it off at seeing your encouraging smile.

“would you maybe want to go on a date with me sometime?” she fiddles with the rings on her fingers as she rests her hands on the bar, yours were close to hers. at seeing her fidgeting, you don’t know what happened but your hand moved on its own, moving to rest over the top of hers. “i’d love to jessie” you give her hand a reassuring squeeze, her face fills with relief, a big smile making way to her features.

“great!” she smiles, you smile shyly at her, “could i get your number to text you?” you ask, hand still tingling on top of hers. “yeah sure!” she expressed, fishing her phone out of her pocket and handing it over to hers, you take your hand off hers to get your own out, handing it over to her.

you exchange numbers and she grins happily at you, “i’ll wait for you?” jessie offered, you shake your head at her, she wanted to walk you home and you’re not sure if your heart could take it at the moment.

“no, no, you don’t have to” you promised but she didn’t care, “i want to,” she reassured, you smile sheepishly, moving to grab her hand again and giving it a thankful squeeze, you watch as the blood rushes to her cheeks when you part, awkwardly waving at you before walking away.

you watch as she walks away, niamh throws you a smirk, mouthing, “you’re welcome” as she sends you a big thumbs up, you nod and throw her one back, shaking your head amusingly as you clean up.

—

you and jessie met up for your date, going extremely well and turning into 4 dates until she finally asked you to be her girlfriend. the first time you came to jessie’s game, she had a heart attack seeing you in the bleachers in her jersey. running over and giving you a shy hug and a kiss to your cheek.

—

in present times, you and jessie moved into a whole new place with each other, dating for over 2.5 years. you’re both incredibly in love with each other, anything but shy in the privacy in your home. it was until you were in public that you and jessie returned to being a couple of shy guys. something you’re teased about relentlessly.

you’ve completed your 5 years of university and are now completing your foundational program. jessie was so proud of you, bragging about how her gorgeous girlfriend was a doctor. not saying that you didn’t have your fair share of bragging, frequently gushing over your extremely talented, footballer girlfriend to anyone who would listen.

—

one day, jessie was set to play a match for chelsea, you had time off work and uni, deciding to surprise your girlfriend at her match. you smile when she dozes on your chest, stirring when you card a hand through her hair to wake her up. “happy game day” you say softly, making the girl smile tiredly and bury her face into your chest, giving you a little kiss on your sternum as she nuzzles into you.

“wish you were coming” she mumbles into your shirt, lifting her face up and puckering her lips. you giggle and pull her down to you, kissing her lips tenderly as she squeezes your hips gently, her thumbs dipping under your shirt to graze your skin.

you hum into her mouth, making her smirk against your lips, she pulls away with a peck, peppering kisses on your cheeks before kissing you longingly one more time on the lips.

you smile as you watch her get changed into her kit, winking as she catches you shamelessly checking her out. “bye, baby” she whispers against your lips as she kisses you goodbye and goes to the grounds. as soon as she pulls out of the driveway, you rush off to get ready yourself.

putting on her jersey always has you pink in the cheeks, proud to be representing the name of the girl you loved so much.

once you were ready, you head over to the grounds and sit down, you were early but you didn’t mind, rocking up in the friends and family section with an excited smile.

when the girls come out for warm ups, jessie out of instinct looks at the section you were in, hoping you’d be there and being shocked when you were. her face lights up, waving at you excitedly when you wave at her shyly. you blow her a quick kiss and she smiles brightly, immediately getting teased for her pink cheeks.

“you’ve already got her and you’re still the same” niamh coos and laughs, getting a little shove from jessie before they warm up.

—

the game concludes, chelsea winning and jessie getting a goal. you smile as she bounds over to you, holding your arms out for a hug. she wraps you in her arms tightly, you let out a little yelp of surprise when she lifts you over the barrier, still hugging her tightly, your legs now around her waist.

“baby!” you say proudly, pulling back and cupping her face in between your hands, “my superstar” you kiss her cheek, “my goal scorer” another kiss, “my girl” you conclude, giving her a longer kiss on her cheek. her cheek grows warm at your contact, hands gripping you tightly.

“i’m so happy you’re here,” she says earnestly, placing you on the ground and tugging you into another tight hug.

she kisses you sweetly and briefly, immediately hearing the cheers and wolf whistling from her teammates around her. she rolls her eyes, tucking her head into the crook of your neck, her lips grazing your skin.

“you’re so cute” you coo, scratching the back of her neck gently and holding her close. she groans in embarrassment, walking you backwards towards the change rooms, her face still tucked away.

she sits you in her cubby, kissing your lips sweetly before running off to the shower, rushing to get you home.

“hello, doctor (y/n)” niamh teases, both of you small talking until your girlfriend comes back to you puffed out. “i’m ready, let’s go” she breathes out, you both bid goodbye to everyone and make your way to her car.

she opens your door for you and you kiss her quickly to show your appreciation. as soon as she gets in, her hand seeks refuge on her regular spot on your thigh, squeezing it gently when you hold it in your hands.

“thank you for coming today, baby” she says appreciatively, grabbing one of your hands and pulling it up to her mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “of course, babe, gotta be a faithful wag” you say cheekily, making her laugh and look at you lovingly.

you both cuddled when you got home, she showed you her appreciation for you coming to the match and you were both extremely blissful.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: when she’s a doctor, absolutely gorgeous and is unbelievably a bonus as my girlfriend ❤️

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yourname: my pretty baby, absolute superstar

↳ _jessflem: my pretty wag

↳ yourname: better achievement than my degree honestly

niamhcharles17: you’re so welcome guys!!

↳ yourname: niamhy for the win

↳ niamhcharles17: never forget i’m here when your little girlfriend is gone

↳ _jessflem: watch it.

[dsybouquet]

ceo! ellie - 3

what if a broke uni student met the ceo of one of the most impactful companies right now? without her even knowing?

lowercase is intentional

read part 1 aaaand part 2 right here ! xx

"good to see you, ellie."

"hey dina."

ellie lightly said, giving her lawyer a hug. she in fact was relived to see the silghtly older woman sitting in her office chair, smiling ever so lightly.

"what's the news?"

the ceo asked, lighting herself a cigarette before loosening the hair tie that hold her bun together. she looked at the slightly older woman with confused eyes.

"good or bad news first?"

"good i guess?"

she sat down besides dina to have a look at the lawyers screen, like she would understand all the paragraphs and lawyer language she had all over her desktop.

it‘s been a while since ellie and dina had so much to discuss. when ellie became ceo, they would talk every day, also about non business topics. sometimes they both wonder how they grew apart like this.

"good news is, we will not get sued!"

dina exclaimed, clapping her hands slightly. she threw an encouraging smile at ellie.

"the client is mad, however.. they have a different way for you to make up for it. so the bad news is-"

"let me guess, our yearly charity event should be in honor to them instead of joel?“

the blackhaired woman raised an eyebrow.

"i mean, yeah kinda. they want to be more represented.“

ellie got up from her seat and walked around the office. the smoke of her cigarette hugging her face every time she blew it out.

„did i ever mention how i despise abby sometimes?“

„like every other day.“

dina just laughed it off, she knew how much of an temper ellie could have - and over the years it got just worse.

„no like, seriously. ever since joel died in that car crash i have to deal with her bullshit and i can‘t do anything because they are the biggest client we have!“

and here it goes. ellie threw her cigarette in the ashtray before slumping on her office chair again.

joels death resulted in her taking his place - being the ceo of miller enterprises. and as much as she loved the money and the big cars and the responsibility, she also hated it. none of this is her‘s, it‘s joels. he did all the work, she just had to be next in line.

he had adopted her years after his daughter has passed away due to an medical condition. to say the least, ellie was a rough child and teen. she was loud, sarcastic and had her own will. of course she would listen to joel, after all he wad the only parental figure she had ever have.

„it‘s almost five years now.“

she mumbled, looking at her desk.

ellie hated christmas season and winter. she hated the snow and the beautiful lights. she hated it because it reminded her of him. of the call from dina, the hours in the hospital, the beeping sound of the machine that so desperately tried to keep him alive.

„i know.“

dina added, leaning against ellie’s table. she gave her a encouraging smile.

„how about we start the planning tomorrow? go home and have a good nights rest.“

and so ellie left the office with a small goodbye to dina and went back to her car. she sat down in the drivers seat. as much she loved her car, she didn’t want to drive.

tears slowly build up in her eyes, but she quickly swallowed it when she saw an unfamiliar book on the passenger seat. a book about.. the human psyche ?

you must have forgotten it when ellie dropped you off at home.

„damn it.“

she said under her breath and whipped out her phone, calling your number immediately. and to her surprise you picked up very fast.

„hey ellie! are you okay ?“

your voice was so gentle, ellie was about to die from it’s sweetness.

„hey dear. yeah don’t worry. uh- you forgot your book in my car. need me to drop it off ?“

there was some noise on the background, sounding like you fumbling around in your bag to find it.

„that would be great, ellie. i‘ll make up for it.“

she smiled, starting her engine and looking up your adress from her recent routes.

„i will be there in 20! see ya, ______!“

and off she went, excitement now building up.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

„hey, thank you so much.“

you smiled, waiting on your doorstep, still in the same hoodie, but with pyjamas pants below now.

„no worries.”

“are you free? i can cook you some dinner. you know, to make up for you having to drive here again?“

now ellie smiled but shook her head.

„no, it‘s fine. don‘t worry.“

„ellie, c‘mon. let me do something for you as well!“

and how could she say no to some with a pretty face like yours?

so she agreed, and you lead her up the stairs to your apartment. it was small but lovely and well decorated. scented candles burned in the hallway and the living room was dimly lit with a lap and the led strips behind your running tv.

„it‘s not much but it‘s affordable - for an uni student at least.“

you smiled before going to your kitchen counted which was connected to your living room.

„what do you mean? it‘s pretty!“

ellie eyes the nerdy figurines on your shelves and the pictures on your walls while you grabbed two wine glasses from your shelf.

„are you fine with a cheap rose?“

you asked her as you opened your fridge. ellie looked at you and just felt all the weight of her work falling off her shoulders. she felt.. normal. like you. oh, how she wished to be an uni student, living her best life in an small apartment instead of leading people and having responsibilities beyond imagination.

of course, she did not have to worry about bills or anything. but money and power doesn’t buy happiness. this does.

„absolutely!“

she sat down on one of your kitchen chairs and watched you pour in the wine with a smile.

„thank you dear.“

she said so softly your knees got weak. and you smiled, letting your glass softly hit hers before taking a sip, not breaking eye contact.

„so, i can offer you: noodles with green pesto, noodles with red pesto, or i can try my luck with a mushroom risotto. additionally, i can also make a side salad.“

you smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. ellie hadn’t felt this carelessness and even happiness in a while. after all, she never had this.

„risotto sounds amazing.“

she smiled, watching you sigh in despair.

„of course you choose the hardest dish. will not guarantee that it will be good!“

you reached for a pan and put out all ingredients; mushrooms that would have to leave your fridge soon anyways, risotto rice, onion and garlic. the simplicity as so beautiful to ellie.

„let me help.“

and so she cut the mushrooms and washed the rice while you took care of the onions and garlic. the two of you laughed and made fun of each other’s cutting skills while emptying your wine glasses and watching the risotto take form.

„that‘d actually pretty bomb!“

you exclaimed while taking the first bite, already half way down on the second wine glass.

„ellie, we are a great team in the kitchen!“

ellie smiled, agreeing with you.

„like hell, we are!“

you spend your dinner laughing and talking about all sorts of things. friends, memories, drunk accidents that were embarrassing. it felt so light to finally not have business talks with people she couldn’t care less about.

after washing the dishes, and pouring a third glass of wine, you took the conversation to your small but comfortable couch.

and it got late, waaaay too late. and the snow kept falling, causing the streets to be white.

„you shouldn’t be driving home tonight.“

you said, looking at the streets while ellie smoked a cigarette on your balcony.

„nah, i will be fine. i don’t want to take up your space.“

„no ellie, i mean it. we drank, it‘s snowy. it would be better for you to sleep here.“

after a while of convincing, she finally agreed, snapping her cigarette off your balcony.

„and you get to spend more time with me. feel honoured!“

you joked, not knowing that it was exactly what she wanted. to spend more time with you, in this carefree environment. where she can be herself, where she can be just ellie and doesn‘t have to be ellie williams - ceo of miller enterprises.

after finishing the last glass of wine, you decided to call it a night. you gave ellie a hoodie from your closet and a pair of pyjama pants before brushing your teeth in the bathroom and doing your daily skincare. when you returned, you laughed a little. she looked so cute in your huge uni hoodie and the fluffy pj pants.

„why are you laughing?!“

„im just used to seeing you in business clothing. but this is adorable!“

she rolled her eyes and took the spare toothbrush you held in her direction.

„fuck off !“

one more laughter left your throat before you prepared the bed for two. luckily it was big enough. although your couch was comfortable, it was small and most likely would break either your or ellies back when sleeping a night on it.

so you shared a bed. after all, thats nothing to worry about, right?

both of you kind of awkward tugged in before facing each other. the wine did make all of this less awkward. once again you noticed how pretty ellie was. the freckles and little eyebrow scar.. her long lashes that made her green eyes even prettier, her auburn hair that hugger her face perfectly.. she was perfect.

and she thought the same about you. her hand reached out to your face and tugged a piece of your hair behind your ear. oh how she wanted to kiss you - yet she didn’t, not knowing you wanted it too.

“good night, ellie.”

“night, ______.”

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

THERE WE GOOOOO. different from what i wanted, but i hope you enjoy ✧*:.｡.

part 4 is here ! ! bye bye xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao

[sunlightgalaxy]

crash & burn

emily prentiss x surgical resident!fem!reader

what happens when your one night stand ends up on your operating table?

warnings: angst, surgery, blood, smut, mention of drugs/drug use, alcohol & drinking, mentions of (fake) major character death

a/n: repost from my previous blog about 3 years ago but also slightly edited. based off of my grey’s anatomy knowledge so there are definitely inaccuracies also one of my fav things I ever wrote

(gif is mine)

**

“incoming trauma! y/l/n, you’re on it with me,” your attending yelled. nodding at her as you made your way to the door, you grabbed a gown and threw it on. a rush of excitement coursed through you, with this being your first real trauma you were working. working the ER was always hit or miss, with everything that had swept through the emergency room doors during your previous rotations either ended up cleared from needing surgery or were “all hands on deck” situations, which usually ended up with every resident fighting for at least three surgeries. and you never seemed to be picked for one.

you had been itching to get into an OR for weeks, as being on the ICU rotation stopped that from happening. technically, you were doing simple procedures on patients when they needed to be done, but you weren’t able to actually operate. and that’s what you loved to do most.

silently wishing that this trauma would need surgery, you jogged out of the e.r. and met your attending at the ambulance bay. “what do we have?” you asked, watching as the paramedic opened the ambulance doors.

“agent emily prentiss, fbi, 40 years old; penetrating stab wound to the lower abdomen, weapon still lodged in place, already coded once in the ambulance,” the paramedic rattled off.

“is that a chair leg?” you asked, mouth open. something about this patient was off, you couldn’t figure it out.

“table leg, actually,” the paramedic said, shaking his head.

“that’s good, it’s the only thing keeping her alive right now,” the attending said, scanning the agent’s body. “what are her stats?”

you didn’t hear a word either of them said, eyes focused on the unconscious woman in front of you. she looked so familiar. and you also recognized her name. “emily,” you muttered, eyes widening when everything came back to you.

~

“can i buy you a drink?” a dark-haired woman asked, sitting down next to you with a smile. “sorry, i know that’s a bit forward,” she said softly. “i’m emily. and you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“oh, thank you,” you blushed. “you’re pretty hot yourself. not to be too forward or anything,” you smirked. “i’m y/n.”

“it’s nice to meet you.”

her laugh was like a drug, you heard it once and were instantly drawn closer. if you weren’t careful, you’d get addicted. “thank you,” she beamed, brushing her hand over yours. “so, about that drink?”

“i’d love one,” you murmured. “thank you.” emily squeezed your hand, calling over the bartender and ordering two glasses of red wine. “how’d you know red was my favorite?” you asked curiously, taking a sip.

“lucky guess,” emily shrugged, changing the subject. “so, what do you do for work?”

“oh, i’m a surgical resident at the hospital downtown,” you smiled. “what about you?”

“i, uh, i work for the fbi,” she murmured, smiling sheepishly. “nothing too crazy, though.”

“that’s actually pretty cool,” you laughed. “what about the fbi brought you to boston?”

“i’m just here on business,” she spoke softly. “trying to find something for my team.”

“have you been here before?”

“once, a long time ago,” she sighed, looking down for barely a second. “but, that’s in the past. and i’m all about the present.”

you giggled, sipping your wine. the night carried on in a similar fashion, more and more drinks purchased as the conversation traveled. from favorite books to dream vacations to childhood fears, you two talked about nearly everything.

and as the night grew longer, emily ended up in your apartment. shirts ditched in the entryway, emily leaving sloppy kisses along your jawline as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you onto the bed, hands trailing down your sides. a soft moan escaped your lips, eliciting a laugh from hers. “you like that, don’t you?” she teased, hands moving up your thighs. one, two fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. her tongue swiping your entrance before her lips encased your clit, your vision nearly blacking out. pulling her hair, emily’s moans sent vibrations straight to your core and pleasure through your veins.

it wasn’t long before your hips bucked into her face, her tongue tasting every bit of you as you came.

and then you were on your knees for her, worshipping her body like it was the last time you would ever see it. which, it technically was. but that was the last thing on your mind as your tongue swiped her clit. she groaned softly, squeezing your breasts as if to tell you to keep going. and you did, until her cum was dripping down your face.

emily leaned down, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into her arms. “thank you for this,” she whispered, smiling softly. “i really needed it.”

“of course,” you murmured. “and you can stay the night, since it’s so late.”

“thank you,” she sighed, rolling over. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, emily.”

emily said she would stay. and not even an hour later, she was running out of your house like she had just seen a ghost. she had said something about a work emergency, then proceeded to give you a quick kiss as a thank you for the night.

and as your apartment door closed, you assumed that was it. it was a one night stand, you would never see her again. and you were fine with that.

~

“something wrong, y/l/n?”

“oh, no, everything’s fine,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“alright then, let’s get her to the OR.”

***

“on my count, we’re going to pull out the wood,” dr. canning said, looking at you. “ready?”

“ready,” you responded, leaning over and grabbing the top of the leg.

“one, two, three.”

you and canning pulled it out as quickly as you could, leading you to hand it to a scrub nurse. “bag this and get it to the police upstairs,” you ordered, shifting your attention to emily.

“scalpel,” canning spoke, taking the blade handed to her and extending the cut that the wood had previously made in order to get better access.

there was so much blood pooling in her abdomen, it honestly scared you a bit. not because the extent of her injuries were so severe - after all, you had seen much worse. it was because you knew the person on the operating table, and even if it had been just one night, you hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. but, it’s not like you knew her, so it didn’t matter. right now, she was your patient. and as far as you were concerned, that’s all she would continue to be.

“where is all this blood coming from?” canning yelled angrily. it seemed that no matter how much suction there was, more blood would keep pouring out. “hang another unit, she’s losing blood too quickly!”

“wait, i think i found the source,” you muttered, lightly pressing a finger to her pancreas, eyes widening as the blood stopped momentarily. “there’s a small cut on her pancreas!” you yelled.

“nice catch, y/l/n,” canning said, handing you sutures. “go ahead and finish up.”

you gasped softly, slightly taken aback by the order. nevertheless, you smiled under your mask and took the sutures. delicately, you were able to carefully fix her remaining injuries.

together, you and canning worked to make sure there was nothing you two were missing. closing her up quickly and carefully, you both headed into the scrub room to clean up.

when canning asked you to go tell her team about the surgery, you agreed rather eagerly. there was no reason for you to do that, it shouldn’t even matter whether you met them or not - there was no way you’d ever see them again.

“we’re under strict rules not to let anyone see her except for agents hotchner and jareau,” your attending explained to you, scrubbing her hands under the water. “understand?”

“yes ma’am,” you replied. “what should i tell them?”

“ask for agent jareau, and tell her that agent prentiss is stable and ready for transport to bethesda when they’re ready.”

nodding quickly, you exited the operating room and made your way to the waiting area. upon arriving, you stood out of view for a moment, taking in the people in the room.

a brightly dressed woman - who’s outfit did not match the tone of the room - leaning against a taller man. a skinny guy sat next to another blonde woman, who looked too uncomfortable - even for a hospital. an older man sat away from everyone else, fiddling with a rosary and murmuring what could only be a prayer under his breath. and then there were two, one taller man and one shorter woman, whispering to each other in the corner of the room.

this was her team, her family.

it felt odd that you were about to tell them how you saved her life, despite them not even knowing you two had hooked up barely 24 hours ago.

“excuse me, i’m looking for agent jareau?” you asked shyly, stepping into the room.

the woman standing stepped away from her teaming, giving them all a small smile. “why don’t we speak in private?” agent jareau suggested, nodding when you agreed.

you both stepped into the hallway, away from her team’s prying eyes. “agent jareau-”

“is she alive?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“yes,” you murmured, the blonde woman sighing with relief. “agent prentiss is stable for now, and she’s ready for transport when your team is.”

“thank you,” agent jareau whispered, tears in her eyes. “thank you for saving her.”

“it’s no problem,” you smiled, watching as the woman walked off.

making your way back to emily’s room, you passed the waiting room, expecting to see smiles and joyous remarks. instead, you found the team in tears. the strangest part was what agent jareau told them.

“she never made it off the table.”

those words followed you all the way back to emily’s room, your mind spinning with what that could mean. it’s not even like it was your business, you two slept together once and nobody even knew. it didn’t matter, so you pushed it to the back of your mind.

you didn’t dare stay in her room for longer than you had to. as soon as you finished checking emily’s post-op vitals and making sure everything was in order, you left, shutting the door behind you.

instead of walking away - like you knew you should - you just stood in front of her room. not watching her, but just staring.

“you know, that agent has quite an interesting life” canning said softly, coming up next to you. “agent hotchner had asked me how long until she was cleared to leave the country.”

“did he say why?” you asked, looking between canning and emily.

“something about a paid vacation, but i don’t believe him,” she laughed. “apparently they’re profilers, but i didn’t need to be trained in behavioral analysis to know he was lying.”

“agent jareau told her team that she died,” you said quietly, staring at emily’s unconscious figure.

“damn,” canning sighed, looking ahead as well. “well, i know i wouldn’t want to be caught up in all of the trauma that’s bound to leave. i feel bad for her.”

“yeah,” you sighed. “me too.”

phones beeping after a few minutes, you and canning looked down, frowning. “there’s another trauma, y/l/n,” she said, looking at you. “let’s go.”

sighing, you took one last look at emily. she was still as beautiful as that night in your apartment, maybe even more.

turning around a moment later, you followed after canning

maybe it was a good thing emily had fled in a hurry after all.

[sofiareidings]

Is That A Hickey Or A Bruise?

Summary: You show up to work with a hickey on your neck and it raises a few questions from your coworkers.

A/N: Soooo...I've been gone for a while. I've had such bad writers block for like two months. It's still really bad, so idk how active I will be. Even though I couldn't bring myself to write coming online and seeing all of your likes and resposts always bring a smile to face. So thank you and I hope you enjoy this little blurb! <3

Word Count: 400~

Song Suggestions: Dress - Taylor Swift

A quick check in the car mirror and a deep breath were all you could do before walking inside. Sitting down at your desk and immediately diving into any type of paperwork, you raised a few people's curiosity.

“How was your night?” Emily turned in chair, ready to try and figure out the need to be so quiet today. Which was unusual for you. “Did you not sleep well?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just uh…couldn't fall asleep.” You nodded and then looked back down at your paperwork.

“What's up with the turtleneck? Never seen you wear something like that.” JJ stated while standing at the corner of your desk, exchanging a quick look with Emily.

“What? Not allowed to wear something different?” You tried to shrug it off, when you heard some footsteps behind you. Turning to see Spencer walking to his desk, quickly looking away as your face turned red.

“Hmm…you know that's the oldest trick in the book right?” Emily crossed her arms and gave you a look from her desk, probably already having figured it out.

“What's the oldest trick in the book?” You asked Emily, giving her the same look. A staring contest that luckily JJ broke.

“This, sweetie.” She reached over and tugged at the collar of your top. Your immediate reaction was to shoo her away, but she saw it. The purple-ish mark on your neck. “Wow, bigger than I expected.”

“Shut up, shut up. Don't talk about it.” You panicked and grabbed her hand. Pleading. This caught the attention of the other people in the office. Mainly Derek and Spencer.

“Well I think you are about to be interrogated by that one.” JJ said while holding back a laugh and nodding to Derek who was now trying to assess the situation.

“What aren't we talking about?” He said from his desk, most likely trying to profile the answer out of you, JJ, and Emily. “What's with the turtleneck…oh my God.” He laughed.

“I'm telling Hotch I'm sick and going home.” You said while trying to hide the embarrassment.

Derek stood up while still laughing and walked over to Spencer, reaching a hand out for a fistbump. “Pretty boy. My man.” He said through laughs. Spencer shook his head, not reaching his hand out. “Ouch, that hurts Reid.”

Once people settled down a little bit you stood up and walked over to Spencer's desk. Handing him some files and leaning over to whisper something. “Maybe next time don't be so harsh.”

“Maybe next time, don't be so obvious about the hickey.” He whispered back with a smile. You sighed and shook your head before walking back to your desk. Completely embarrassed.

[adoredawn]

✧˖° — adventures in babysitting

pairing: joe goldberg x fem! reader

type: imagine (1.6k+ words)

requested: no

summary: joe and love decide to get a babysitter for henry after dottie’s breakdown. who would’ve thought she'd spark joe's interest?

warning(s): one-sided pining (-ish). rushed plot / dialogue. no use of y/n.

note(s): not my gif. not my divider. this takes place during season 3! i’ve seen sooo little joe love on here, so i thought i’d write some! i haven’t written a full fledged fic in nearly 4 years, so please bear with me while i try to regain my skills. reblog & comment if you enjoyed it / want a part 2!

adoredawn’s masterlist

“if you want to make some calls to any previous parents i’ve worked with, there are some cell numbers i can give you,” you said with a smile, looking between the husband and wife before you. you sat opposite them on a plush loveseat as they were side-by-side on their gray sofa adorned with decorative pillows.

“oh that doesn’t seem necessary, we’ve heard great things.” love grinned as she patted joe’s knee lovingly. “cary and sherry just could not recommend you enough!”

you giggled and shook your head, smoothening out your summer dress. “i did have my hands full with those twins, that week and a half was a wild one…”

there was an uncomfortable silence. the house was eerily quiet for a toddler to be living in it, though it was his nap time. your eyes drifted down to what trinkets littered their coffee table. coasters, a book on home décor, and toddler toy keys.

as you had walked in earlier, you noticed their home was eerily clean. a family portrait of the three was already hung in a hallway and other pictures were framed on bookshelves and end tables. their home was modern, yet vintage at the same time. it felt like a showroom, but one you could call home.

you could feel their eyes on you, studying you, as you gazed around their home.

joe cleared his throat and sat up straighter, love looked at him expectingly and you mimicked his movements, snapping out of your thoughts. “so… how soon can you start? how’s your schedule?”

you opened your mouth to answer, reaching beside you to grab your purse and look at the calendar on your phone, but a cry rang from upstairs.

love sighed, “sorry about that, i guess nap time’s over! i’ll go get him and we can introduce you.” she sprang up from her seat and made her way up the staircase, glancing back once to eye joe.

joe watched as his wife traveled up the stairs to soothe their toddler, and as he turned back to look at you, he caught your stare. you momentarily forgot what he had asked, flustered. “oh-uh, well i can start as soon as you need. i’m available all week really. i’m taking a break from school for a semester.”

joe seemed to perk up, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “huh, what’re you studying?”

“education, with a focus on advanced literature in secondary education”

he licked his lips and you couldn’t help but watch. your hands balled into fists in your lap, crescent moons forming in your palms from your nails digging in.

“you enjoy reading?” his voice buzzed lowly with curiosity and you nodded softly.

“mhm, i plan on being a high school teacher or a professor once i graduate.” you paused, looking behind joe at the staircase, and wondering what was taking love so long. you shook your head slightly, focusing your attention back on joe, trying to remain cool. “do you read?”

“i do. i was a bookstore manager for some time.”

“really? that must’ve been fun-“

“here he is, say ‘hi’ henry!” love came down the stairs carrying henry on her hip. joe turned and watched them both come down, reaching for henry once love had sat beside him again.

you waved at little henry, and he barely paid you any mind, focusing on his mother and father. love turned him around to sit facing you, where you could see that his white pajama onesie was covered in blue moons and yellow stars.

“henry, say ‘hi,’ bubba!” love encouraged him, grabbing his arm to wave at you, causing you to smile and wave back. she looked up from him, to you, a serious look on her face. “do you want to hold him? he’s not very fussy around newer people.”

you hesitate, looking back and forth between love and joe, as if asking for permission, even though love has already granted it. meanwhile henry babbled, spitting drool over his onesie. “sure sure, i’ve got him,” you said confidently.

you stood and bent over the coffee table separating you from the couple, reaching for their toddler. as love passed him to you, henry giggled, flailing his legs and flapping his arms while he’s in the air, causing the three of you to also begin laughing.

you felt joe watching you as you held henry, and you tried your best not to return any glances, wanting to maintain your focus on henry.

you sat back on the loveseat, bouncing henry on your lap a few times. “hey, henry, how’re you doing, buddy? i’m gonna be your new babysitter.” you tell him your name, chanting it as you point at yourself a few times. he looks at you and smiles, grabbing at the bottom hem of your dress and tugging.

you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched as you had henry in your lap. of course you were being watched, you told yourself. joe and love just wanted to make sure they would be leaving henry with someone who knew what they were doing. and you very much did.

after a few minutes of holding henry, he began to stretch his arms out, pleading to go back to his parents. you held him back safely as he whined and yearned to reach the other side of the coffee table.

joe grunted an “i got ‘im,” before he walked over to you and picked henry up off of your lap, his hands brushing yours. you felt a pang in your heart as you touched, but squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore it.

once joe got a hold of him, henry began to shriek. joe tried to calm him down, patting his back and rocking him side to side, but he didn’t let up. love quickly got up from her seat and took henry from joe, patting his back.

“it’s okay, forty, it’s okay, momma’s here…” love soothed him, and whispered “sorry!” she sat back on the couch, trying to calm him down.

joe ran a hand through his hair, frowned, and sighed. you watched him with a frown, and he caught your gaze, to which you stood and stuck out your hand. “it was really great to meet you you both.”

joe took your hand in his and shook, smiling softly at you. “it was nice meeting you, miss... i’ll walk you out.” you blushed lightly as he recalled your name and turned to love and squeezed her shoulder goodbye. she muttered a soft “bye” and you rubbed henry’s back and said bye to him as well.

joe kissed love on the cheek as she settled henry down and followed behind you. you reached for the doorknob, and joe followed suit, his fingers brushing against yours again. they lingered for a second, and you turned to look up at him as you retreated your hand.

he smiled gingerly as he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted the door open. you’re both greeted by the gorgeous california sun and birdsong and you take a step outside. you turned, expecting to say your final goodbyes, but joe followed you out.

“thank you, again, for coming out to see us and meet henry. i assume love already gave you our numbers?” he asked as he closed the door behind him. he leaned against the door frame with both hands in his pockets and quickly looked you up and down.

you nodded, “yeah, it was no problem. and she did. do you have mine?” you began pulling your phone out of your purse before joe spoke.

“yes, i can send you a text to make sure it’s the right one?”

before you could agree, joe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began typing. soon enough, you heard a familiar ding! from inside your purse, and went to read the message:

Hello, you.

you smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “i’ve got it, thanks.” you turned away to leave before stopping abruptly. joe had already turned to leave as well, and faltered as you came back. “sorry, uh, i was just wondering when would i be starting?”

joe stuck his tongue in his cheek, in thought for a moment, and you took this time to fully drink him in. he had one hand in his pants pocket, the other rubbing his chin. his dark curls fell perfectly over his forehead, and you wanted to brush them away to get him to look deeply into your eyes. his gray sleeves hugged the curve of the muscles on his arms so right, that you nearly melted at the thought of being trapped in them.

you couldn’t be thinking like this, you scolded yourself. you'd never suddenly gotten this rush of feelings when meeting someone before. he’s happily married with a kid that you’ll be taking care of. get. it. together!

“how about monday? i’ll be home for a few hours, and i don’t think love would mind if i stay and show you henry’s schedule.”

you nodded eagerly, “absolutely, just let me know when to get here. thank you, again, for having me!” you waved goodbye as you trekked down their concrete walkway and to their white picket fence toward your car. you covered your eyes from the sun and once you made it to your car, you searched for and waved at joe from across the street.

joe waved to you and watched as you settled into your vehicle. he didn’t take his eyes off of you until your car had driven out of his sight, eager for the weekend to fly by and see you on monday.

[itsmarsss]

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

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

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

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word Count: 12,920

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

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

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

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

“Blitz. What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?”

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

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

“Blitz.”

He sighs. “Okay I did do something.”

“Oh what a surprise!”

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

“What does that fucking mean?”

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

“What do you mean Stolas wants me?”

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

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

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

“His Grimoire.”

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

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

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

“Like just once a month?”

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

“That is-”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, right?”

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

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

“Stolas what?”

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

“What? No.”

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

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

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does none of that sound concerning to you?”

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

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

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

“What about us?”

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

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

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

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

“Well shit.”

“So, you in?”

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

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

“Wow. So caring of you.”

“Yeah yeah call me mother Talita or whatever.”

“Mother what?” You stifle a laugh.

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

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

“Yeah well so am I.”

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

“Sir, huh? I can work with sir.”

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

[. . .]

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine. Something happen?”

“Not really. Well not yet.”

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

“Yeah Mox. Y/n’s just here to talk.”

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

“Hey Mox,” you wave back.

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

“Millie talk.”

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

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

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

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

“Oookay. What’d he ask ya to do?”

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

“The prince guy?”

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

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

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

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

“… yeah.”

“Well shit!”

“I know!”

“And you wanna say yes?”

“Is it crazy if I do?”

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

“Hey! I don’t wanna fuck Blitz!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t think it would?”

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

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

“Blitz said that?”

“Yeah! I think I’m just curious.”

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

“I want your opinion!”

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

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds… smart.”

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

[. . .] 

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

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

“The two fuckfaces went up on their own.”

“Why?”

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

“‘Kay. Thanks.”

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

“It’s me.”

“Oh. Come in.”

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

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

“I mean I guess?”

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

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

“Stop making things weird!”

“Learn how to take a joke, bitch!”

“Learn how to be funny, asshole!”

[. . .]

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

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

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

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

mills: how u doin?

You send her a selfie as a reply. 

mills: DAMN U LOOK HAWT

you: thank u!! u really think so?

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

you: i think so

mills: thats not a yes

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

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

you: ew bye millie!!

mills: aw cmonnn

you: no!! bye!!!

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

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

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

He takes a few minutes to reply.

blitz(n)o: ON MY WAY

[. . .]

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

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

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

What did that fucking mean? “Okay.”

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

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

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

“Sure thing, Blitz.”

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

“I most definitely haven’t.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

“And what do you hear?”

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

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

“You said it though.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“I have witnesses!”

“Will you shut up?”

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

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

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

“What?”

“What?”

“Why?”

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

“His wife’s here?”

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

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

“Well the servants!”

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

“Look, we just gotta. ‘Kay?”

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

“‘Sup, Stolassss?” Blitzø greets him.

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

“Your Highness.”

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

“Sorry. Old habits. Hi, Stolas.”

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

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

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

“Yes, I think.”

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

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

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

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

“Would you let me show you, then?”

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

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

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

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

“I am only checking in with her!”

“Let me check in with her!”

“Very well, then, go ahead!”

“It cool if we threeway?”

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

“Nice. See, Stolas?”

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

“Wait.”

They stop moving altogether. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You only nod.

“Wanna try it out?”

You nod again, slowly. 

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my- fuck, yes!”

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

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

“What I want?” 

You nod eagerly, encouraging him. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.” Blitzo breathes out.

“Fuck.” You reapeat. Fuck, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t help it.”

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

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

“Which one of us?” You ask.

“Both of you.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“So much.” He breathes out.

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

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

“What, you don’t think it’s true?”

“Oh, no, I believe you.”

“Cocky bitch.” 

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

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

“Pervert.”

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

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

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

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

“You been staring, Stolas?”

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

Blitzø scoffs.

“It’s okay if you were.”

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

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

“What do you mean-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah I noticed.”

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

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

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

“You wanna use that?” Blitzø asks you.

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

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

“Is that an okay thing?”

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

Okay, green light. Very hot green light. 

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

“Fuck yeah.” 

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

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

“I am!”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“Now let’s try again, shall we?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve apologized-”

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

Stolas takes a gulp instead of responding.

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

“Please do.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.”

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

“I’m the one who’s new to this.” 

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

“Yes! Yes.”

“You can touch me this time.”

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

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

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

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

You grab Stolas’ face, roughly pulling him to face you, and his movement falters. “Don’t stop, Stolas. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You nod, pleased, squeezing his cheeks until his mouth is forced open and pulling him into a torturing kiss, slow and sensual and downright vulgar. A promised, he doesn’t stop his pace against Blitzø, who meets him with equally eager ruts of his hips, but doesn’t look nor sound nearly as fucked out as he does. Blitzø presses two of his fingers directly to Stolas’ hole, and, though he doesn’t insert them or even move them, the friction from it in between their bodies as the moved in sync seemed to be enough to turn Stolas into an even bigger mess, mouth parted as he let out the most impossibly filthy, delightful  noises, barely able to kiss you back properly. 

“I’m going to- I’m- Please, please, please, let me-” he’s so gone you’re not even sure he can register what he’s saying, how he’s begging. And he’s begging for permission, you realize. 

“You make the call,” Blitzø tells you. “Think he deserves it?”

“I’m not sure,” you taunt. “You think you’ve been a good boy for us, Stolas?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Good, good boy. You can cum, Stolas. Can you cum for us?”

Stolas nods furiously, pace increasing to be impossibly more desperate, and you watch in awe as Blitzø inserts two of his fingers inside his hole, going back to thrusting into him right after. The noise of his fingers moving inside of Stolas, along with the breathy moans he’s letting out, is so pornographic it makes you blush- Stolas is so fucking wet that Blitzø has no issue inserting them entirely inside, though he’s still careful with it, curling it up in such a way it has Stolas letting out an animalistic screech. You can see he’s just on the verge of finishing, and decide you can put yourself to good use to help, snaking your tail up to his neck and wrapping it tightly around it, now aware that he likes that, but still in such a position that you can have a clear view when he cums- and oh, when he cums! 

The wet noises fill the room along with Blitzø’s grunts and Stolas’ utterly sinful moans, in sync with the way their hips meet and Blitzø’s fingers go deeper and deeper inside him each time. The sight is glorious, from Stolas’ semblant of pure ecstasy to the way he drips onto Blitzø’s fingers, hips faltering more and more as he loses himself while the orgasms hits him, leaving it for Blitzø to pump his fingers inside him a few more times so he can fully ride it out. 

You retract your tail from his neck as he rests his head on Blitzø’s shoulder, jumping up at the stimulation when Blitzø moves to retract his fingers from inside of him. Blitzø wordlessly offers them to you, and you silently open up your mouth, tongue out and all, so that he can place them inside. You run your tongue over his fingers, coated with Stolas’ fluid, looking at Blitzø through your lashes. You give them kitten licks, enjoying the way he seems affected by the sight. “Suck, bitch,” he demands, and you don’t even have the willpower to determine if you care about the name-calling or not, only doing as he says and sucking his fingers dry obediently. He looks pleased by it. “Ya hear that, Stolas? She’s tasting you on my fingers like it’s her last fuckin’ meal. Bet you wish you could see that,” he mocks, and Stolas shudders at the thought. You pull away with a soft ‘pop’, licking the remnants of the liquid from your lips. 

“Don’t be mean, Blitz,” you coo, moving to untie the fabric in the back of Stolas’ head. He takes a couple seconds to lift his head up from Blitzø’s shoulder, eyes slowly opening to take in the view of the two of you. He blushes slightly, and his eyes travel down to where his groin meets Blitzø’s, gulping at the sight of his cum all over Blitzø’s underwear. He’s sure he’s ruined it, but doesn’t have the heart to care. He can just buy him a new one. 

“Are you alright, Stolas?’ You ask him, softly, as he comes back to his senses. 

“Yes. Yes, thank you, thank you.”

Blitzø smirks. “So, Stols. Anything, huh?”

“I- uh-” Stolas stumbles over his words, embarrassment washing over him now that he’s come down from chasing his high. “I-”

“Are you backing down, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that,” Stolas scolds him. “And I still don’t know why I am the only one undressed.”

“Cause it’s fun,” you chime in, chuckling at his expression. 

“You a pussy, Stolas?”

“No- I’m- will you not call me that?”

“If you stop acting like one.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Now that’s more like it.” He grins, pleased. “You’re gonna eat her out, and I’m gonna watch.”

“What?” You’re the one to ask. 

“What, don’t think I didn’t see your thighs pressed together while you watched us. I could bet you so much money that you’re dripping wet just from watching.”

“I-” You glance at Stolas, who has his head tilted to the side as he watches you. He looks curious. “Okay.”

“Good fuckin’ girl. Come on, Stolas, don’t be shy!” Blitzø pulls you to lie down with your head on one of Stolas’ fancy silk pillows, and you feel anticipation bubbling inside you. 

Stolas crawls to kneel right by Blitzø’s side, facing your legs. His eyes wander from you to Blitzø to you to Blitzø, as if unsure where to begin. And apparently he is. “I don’t- I don’t know how to- what should I do?”

“You never eaten a woman out before?”

Stolas ashamedly nods his head no. 

“Didn’t you have a whole ass wife?”

“Well, yes, but we barely ever-” oh. 

“Okay, well, good thing I’m kind of an expert,” Blitzø grins confidently and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at it. “Ya wanna learn something new today?” 

Stolas nods feverishly. 

“Okay, well, change of plans, tits,” Blitzø tells you, crawling over to be at face level with you, his body fully on top of yours, weight held up by his hands on either side of your head. “That alright?” He lowers his voice again, staring deeply into your eyes. You’re beginning to suspect he could ask you to do anything in that voice and you’d do it, no questions asked.

You take a gulp. “Yes.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he whispers, before capturing your lips on his roughly. This time around the kiss doesn’t start slow, or tender, or anything remotely wholesome. It’s obscene and hungry and feels so, so right. He leaves his weight for his left arm to support as, lips still linked with yours, tongue still dancing against your own, he descends his right hand to squeeze your right breast over your bra, and you feel him open a smile against your lips when he manages to make you suck in a harsh breath at the feeling of it. He massages your breast roughly over the piece of clothing before he tugs the bra cup down, thumb and pointer finger promptly taking hold of your nipple and rolling it between them. He pulls his face away from yours and halts his ministrations altogether, much to your dismay, to take a look back at Stolas. “You watching?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You see how you don’t just jump straight into it? Not that you can’t, but it takes the whole experience up a notch to start with some kissing, some touching, some squeezing,” he wiggles his eyebrows at the last part and makes a point of squeezing your boob once again.

“And what makes you so sure you’re doing it right?” You challenge him. You know he knows you’re only doing it to tease him, but whatever gets him back on you, even if only to prove a point. Blitzø fucking loves proving a point.

“Good question. Let’s see, shall we?” He lets go of your bra, letting it cover you again, and begins trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your ears, your neck, your throat. He pays extra attention to your collarbone before supporting himself up and shifting his weight to his legs, straddling you. He places his hand back on your right boob this time, kneading it over your bra once again, and tugs down on the other bra cup, exposing your left. 

He dives right in with no warning. You’re given no time to expect it before he’s licking at you messily, your nipple hardening immediately at the contact. The cool air of the room hits the spit that now covers it as he pulls away and intensifies that feeling even more. You breath hitches. 

He takes it a sign to keep going, which it is, and encloses his lips around it, sucking like his life depends on it, and holy fuck it feels good. The moans you’re unable, and honestly don’t care enough about anymore, to contain, incite him to alternate between sucking and licking at your nipple, other hand busy massaging your other breast at a matching pace and tail caressing the inner of your thigh, though that you’re not sure is intentional. It turns you on, nonetheless. Only after a while of it is he sufficiently satisfied before feeling like he needs to continue his ‘lesson’. He lets his teeth graze and slightly pull at your nipple as he pulls away. “Yeah I think I’m doing it right,” he boasts.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Ha! Not yet! I’m teaching Stolas how to eat some pussy first, would you mind?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Okay, we could give some more attention to the boobies-”

“Ew, Blitz! What the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t say fucking boobies!”

“It’s what they are!”

“You’re so fucking-” your words get caught on your throat when his tail wraps itself around your upper thigh, squeezing it tight enough to hurt just a bit. It feels good. “Fuck. Insufferable.”

“Can you let me finish? Ha. Finish. Anyway, we could keep on giving some more attention up there, but the lady seems really impatient, doesn’t she? So we can always just go back to that later.” Tail still wrapped around your upper thigh, he moves around from straddling you to opening your legs to make way for him to kneel between them. Wordlessly, he leans back down to kiss at your stomach, and his hands fly to the waistband of your shorts. He tugs on it and asks for confirmation that he can take it off, doing so as soon as he gets it. You lift up your hips to help him out and he discards the piece of clothing by purposefully throwing it directly at Stolas, who looks stunned by it for a second. 

You’re sure Blitzø’s next step is to just get to taking your panties off, but, instead, he wraps his hands behind your legs, pushing you to fold them and plant your feet to the mattress, and leaves small bites all over your inner thighs. Your breathing quickens as he gets closer and closer to where you simply need him at this point, but doesn’t get to it. You're torn between yelling at him to just get to it and just enjoying what he’s doing, however torturing it feels. You’re not torn anymore when he gives a rather harsh bite, tugging on the soft, plush skin of your thigh, sure to leave a mark, and decide on your first option. “Will you please get to it already, you fucking-” He knows you were about to insult him, and makes sure to shut you up just before you can, licking a stripe over your panties. “Shit. Yes.”

“The two of you really need to learn some fucking manners, you know? Have some fucking patience!” He scolds, and he tugs on the thin band of the lingerie with his pointer fingers, pleased with how you immediately respond with furious nodding, urging him to just fucking take it off already. He slides the underwear off your legs slowly as he keeps his words directed at Stolas. “Now if you’ve been doing things right, by the time you’re taking the panties off, she should be wet.”

“Not true for everyone,” you quip, and gasp in surprise when he grazes two of his fingers against your entrance, collecting the wetness and bringing them up for Stolas to inspect. It almost makes you want to die of embarrassment. 

“True for you, though. You ready for the best head of your fuckin life?”

“Highly doubt it.” 

He only sends you a smile, clearly confident, before lowering himself, hands parting your thighs further and wasting no time before licking a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, sending shivers through your spine. You let out a moan. It fuels him on, and he does it one, two, three times again before his tongue focuses solely to your clit, rolling it out in circles a few times. Your hands instinctively go to his head, taking hold of the base of his horns. What he’s doing feels good, but you know it can feel even better, so you guide his head to signal what you want- “Up and down.”

You’re not sure what his response to the demand will be, if he’ll scold you for telling him what to do, but he seems pleased to have you voicing exactly what you want. 

He pulls away for a second to comment on it. “That’s it, babe, tell me what you want.” He latches his mouth to your clit again, sucking on it a couple times before releasing it to go back to flicking his tongue at it, up and down this time, just as you urged him, and the feeling of it is heavenly. You assume.

You can feel a faint sign of your orgasm building inside of you as he keeps on for who-knows-how-long, and so it’s beyond frustrating when he pulls away altogether. 

“No! What the fuck?” 

“Hey, chill out! I gave a little demonstration, now we should let Stolas practice, shouldn’t we?”

As much as you want Blitzø’s mouth on you again, you don’t deny the suggestion, for Stolas is looking at you in such a mix of curiosity and hunger that it makes you crave his mouth on you too. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Stolas asks you, nervous. “Perhaps I’m not the most qualified to-”

“I’ll guide you, Stolas. Please?”

He only nods, taking Blitzø’s place between your legs. He stares, and it takes a lot of willpower not to close your legs at that. You remind yourself he’s curious, not judging- not only has he never gone down on a woman, the only woman he ever had sex with didn’t exactly have the same anatomy as you did. 

“There’s no clothes to take off anymore,” Stolas points out, nervous, as he runs Blitzø’s ‘demonstration’ on his memory again. 

Blitzø laughs. “That’s true. You just gotta dive right in. Long as it’s fine with the lady. Is it?”

“Yes.” You feel a little ridiculous in this position, being the object of some sort of sex lesson or whatever the fuck this had turned into, but, as soon as Stolas’ mouth is on you, Blitzø’s hungry eyes staring at the scene, it clicks that he wants to watch the two of you much rather than to genuinely be teaching Stolas anything. 

Stolas’ mouth is careful on you and his hands are unsure. Blitzø comes up behind him to place them on your waist, and the prince quickly gets the sign to grip at your sides. You’re surprised when he pulls your body down to him, pressing you to his mouth forcefully as he messily licks at your clit, reminding himself of the up and down motion you’d guided Blitzo into. You want more, more, more.

“Holy shit, Stolas, I want it inside. Please, please, please,” you plead, neverminding the fact he might be confused by the request. It doesn’t even cross your mind as you’re in the middle of it.

Stolas pulls away to turn and look at Blitzø, a silent question of ‘what the fuck does that mean?’ in his semblant. 

Blitzø lets out a laugh. “Your tongue, Stolas. She wants it inside her.” 

“Oh. Is that right, dear?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes-” he wastes no time in doing as he’s told- Stolas is very good at that, it seems. 

He gives your clit a kitten lick before slithering his tongue into your hole and, fuck, fuck, fuck, this is exactly what you wanted. He flicks it inside of you blindly and you can’t help but fuck yourself against it, thrusting against his mouth repeatedly to help him find a rhythm. It feels so good you feel that same feeling bubbling inside you again, your orgasm beginning to creep up again. It stays that way, though, and you realize what you want might be too much to ask of Stolas just yet. “Blitz?”

“Hm?” He’s watching the way you fuck yourself against Stolas’ face intently, barely registering the fact you’re speaking to him.

“Blitz. Your- your fingers.”

“What, birdy not good enough for ya?”

“It’s not that, I want- I want both of you.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Yeah I can do that. Scooch over, Stols.”

Your legs are opened impossibly wider, and Blitzø squeezes himself besides Stolas, who looks lost now. “What should I do?”

“Keep eating her out, yeah? Only difference is I’m gonna be fucking her with these while you do it,” he holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air. Stolas blushes at the implication of what’s to happen and Blitzø runs his thumb over your clit in an achingly slow pace before one of his fingers finds its way into your entrance, wet enough now that it doesn’t hurt, but he does it slowly, still, curling it around for a moment before checking in with you. “Y’alright?”

You hum in confirmation.

“Gonna give you another one, alright?”

“Please just fucking put it in, Blitz.” 

He doesn’t make any funny remarks at that, only doing as demanded. He inserts a second finger, and this time around it feels like you need a few more seconds to adjust to it, which he gives you. He curls both of them up tentatively, without moving them from their place, and is pleased with the coarse moan he manages to get out of you. 

Stolas takes the noise as a cue to dive right in once again, licking at your clit ferociously. The stimulation feels so undeniably amazing you feel your senses tune out. Blitzø begins a slow pace as he pumps his fingers inside you, curling them up ever-so-slightly, and Stolas matches his rhythm as he gives your clit the attention it so desperately needs, and you faintly register yourself making noises so unhinged they barely sound like you, the knot in your belly threatening to come loose. 

And then Blitzø lowers himself up and suddenly they’re making out, with each other, with your cunt, all the while Stolas’ fingers claw harshly at your thigh and the pace at which Blitzø’s fingers move inside you picks up, with him choosing to pump only deeper and deeper inside you instead of pulling his fingers out to insert them back in, and then it all fucking explodes. 

The mix between a moan and a scream that you let out could be a sound effect on one of those freakin’ Angel Dust movies. 

Blitzø is quick to take his fingers out of you and suck on them as soon as he’s made sure you’ve ridden down your high, and Stolas laps up at the remaining fluid that gushes out of you.

“Holy fucking shit,” you mutter out under your breath, chest heaving up and down. 

“Is that a good thing, dear?’ Stolas asks, and you can see he’s fighting a smile.

“Asshole. I know you know what an orgasm is like.”

“Well now I’m fucking hard,” Blitzø says, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to take a look at him. He is. His black underwear, stained with Stolas’ cum on the front, looks impossibly tight. 

“What’s that you said about wanting me to feel how perfect his dick feels inside me again, Stolas?”

“Oh, you want-” You take Stolas by the hand and pull him out of the bed with you, pushing him against the nearest wall before turning around with your back to him. 

You lock eyes with Blitzø, still sitting on the bed, confused as ever. 

He gets up off the bed, now standing, but doesn’t move towards the two of you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Well, what I’m planning doesn’t exactly sound the most comfortable lying down.”

“What are you planning?”

You tug at the back of your bra. “Can you take this off for me, Stolas?” His fingers fly to undo it and you let the piece of clothing fall to the floor in front of you, now entirely exposed. “Aren’t you coming?”

Blitzø wastes no more time, walking over to where the two of you stand in a hurry, taking his underwear off in his way, and your eyes widen at the sight of him completely naked in front of you. Fuck, you need, need, need him inside of you.

“How do you want me?” He asks, and you realize he’s sort of gotten the gist of your plans. 

Your turn around, facing Stolas again, body flushed against his. “Oh we’re recreating Stolas’ fantasy right now. Isn’t that what you asked for, Stolas?” You raise a hand to caress his cheek.  “I think you said something about me filling you up with my fingers? Is that so?”

“Yes,” he agrees, anticipation visible in his face as your other hand descends over his body slowly, knowing what’s coming next. You stop just before you reach his hole to tilt your head back on Blitzø’s shoulder. 

“Then he said something about how perfect you feel inside of him, that I just had to know what it feels like. Didn’t he?”

“Fuck. Fuck, you want me to-” Blitzø doesn’t finish his sentence, voice dying out at the proposition. 

“What, cat got your tongue now? Are you a pussy, Blitz?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Prove it then,” you tell him, before averting your attention back to Stolas, finally letting your fingers graze against his entrance. He hoots again, the second time the whole night, and you smile at it. “Look at me, yeah? Gonna give you what you want.” You press your middle finger into his hole and he sighs. You decide to take it slowly for now, circling around his answer, barely a knuckle in, teasing him to your heart’s content. 

The grin you sport is quickly wiped off your face as Blitzø parts your legs further apart with his foot and flushes his front to your back, aligning his dick with your hole, and you suck in a sharp breath in anticipation. “You ready?” He asks you, and, with a nod from you, he pushes himself in, inserting just his tip inside of you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust to the intrusion. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper, to youself really, as the uncomfortable feeling of the intrusion turns into an uncomfortable feeling of needing more. 

“Right away,” he tells you, as if you’d been talking to him, and pushes his whole shaft in at once. Not forcefully enough that it hurts, but fast enough that he’s now fully buried inside you. He relishes in the gasp you let out and asks if he can move.

“Yes, yes, yes-” he begins moving, fucking you from behind at a torturingly slow pace, making sure to bury himself deeper and deeper with each calculated thrust. You insert your finger further inside of Stolas, whose voice gives up on him, inaudible gasps coming out as you match Blitzø’s rhythm in yourself. 

Blitzø isn’t exactly known for his patience though, and so it doesn’t take long for his pace to grow more erratic. The end of his tail entangles itself with yours and he holds your hips firmly, pulling them against his. You insert a second finger into Stolas, pressing them in deep, and he grabs your head with both his hands, shoving your face against the fluff of his chest.

“Fuck I knew you had to be nasty, but this? Shit, this is like combining every wet dream I ever fuckin’ had,” Blitzø mumbles as he fucks into you. 

“It’s his wet dream,” you let out, referring to Stolas, whose chest muffles your voice slightly, and you make a point out of curling your fingers up, making the prince let out a sinful moan.

“Oh and you’re not enjoying this?” Blitzø fucks deeper into you, harsh thrusts meant to prove a point. 

Suddenly, Stolas leans forward, over your shoulder, and pulls Blitzo into a bruising kiss that’s meant to shut the imp up. It works. Blitzø’s hips falter slightly for a moment as he gets used to the change, but he adjusts quickly to it. It’s so incomprehensibly hot, the way they make out over you, their moans meddling with each other’s, the way they pant, the way you can feel they’re as into this as you are. 

Blitzø pulls away from Stolas and his mouth goes directly to your collarbone, biting at it, as Stolas sucks at your neck at the same time. 

“Harder,” you plead, as you can feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching once again, and the feeling of it coils inside you in such a way that you know it’s going to hit you hard, and you chase your release blindly.

Blitzø smiles against your neck as he complies, fucking into you so impossibly harder, every roll of his hips so deliciously deep it could make you delirious with how perfectly he’s now managing to hit that sensitive spot inside of you. Just as before, you make sure your fingers hit Stolas just as deep, matching Blitzø’s now brutal pace, and the prince trembles against you, clearly close. Blitzø himself can’t even keep pretending he’s as unbothered as he’d like, seemingly also in a borderline delirious state as he aggressively thrusts against you, cursing over and over again under his breath.

“Fuck. Gonna cum, gonna cum-”He finishes first, and he does so with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you as he fills you up. You can feel his legs trembling, but he doesn’t let up his pace until he hears you call out for him.

“Shit. I’m so close- Please-” It must have taken all his willpower, but he ups his pace to match the way he’d been moving earlier, fast and hard, and, suddenly, you’re cumming. Not even just that, you can feel the liquid gush out of you as you squirt, cum dripping down your thighs and coating Blitzø’s cock, and the scream you let out pushes Stolas over the edge right after, too, and you let him fuck himself onto your fingers for a long as he needs to ride out his orgasm. 

It leaves all three of you a panting, gross, sticky mess, no sound emitted other than heavy breaths, chests heaving up and down as you come back to reality. 

You pull your fingers out of Stolas carefully, and he whines at the loss. Blitzø pulls himself out of you as well, and you bite down on your lip as to not do the same. Tasting Stolas on your fingers is exhilarating, and has you wishing you could go down on him. Later, maybe, you think to yourself, as you realize all of you seem to spent, too fucked out to jump right into another round. 

Coming down from your high to the silence that follows has you wondering if you should say something, do something, but leaves you stuck in place, as you have no idea what they usually do when they’re done. In hindsight, you probably should have asked Blitzø earlier- are you even allowed to stay any longer, to provide any sort of aftercare, or do you just clean yourselves up, get dressed, and leave? You don’t want to make things awkward by being the person to ask ‘what now?’ or something of the sort, so you wait for one of them to take the lead.

Stolas thankfully does. “We should get ourselves cleaned up.”

He leaves towards some other door inside his already gigantic room, and Blitzø immediately follows. You stay where you are, feet planted to the floor. Blitzø’s head appears in the door frame. “You coming?”

“Where?”

He utters no word as he walks up to you and drags you along with him into what you realize is a huge, beautiful bathroom. There’s a bathtub in the middle of it, the myriad of candles that surround it the only source of light in the room, and it somehow seems as if it’d just been drawn, steam coming out of the water, which made no sense. 

“When did you- how-”

Stolas laughs at your confusion. “I have got some spells under my sleeve, darling.”

Blitzø groans in annoyance. “Yeah yeah, now will you conjure me the fucking thing?”

Stolas’ smile falters for a fraction of a second before he agrees. “Of course, Blitzy, dear!” With a wave of his hand, a fucking shower materializes in a corner of the room. 

“Are you getting in?” Stolas asks you, motioning to the bathtub. He notices the confusion in your face. “Blitzy doesn’t like baths.”

“So you conjure him a fuckin’... magic shower or whatever whenever he comes over?” What the hell. 

“Well, yes. It’s not half as difficult as it sounds, trust me.” He slips into the bathtub, humming at the welcoming feeling of the hot water. “Do you enjoy baths?”

“Um. Sure. Yeah.” You glance at Blitzø for a moment, not missing the eye roll at the conversation. Oh, whatever. 

You get in, and Stolas promptly settles into washing your hair, because what even is reality? It feels nice, though you do wish Blitzø would share the moment with the two of you. You understand why he won’t, but tell yourself it’s fine, and you really want it to be, because the feeling of it is just nice, different from most times you’ve been intimate with anyone. No one’s ever drawn a magical bath for you and offered to wash your hair after sex before, that you’re sure of. 

When you’re all half-dressed again, you prepare yourself to bid Stolas goodbye and leave, only for Blitzø to be the first to launch himself back on Stolas’ bed, sprawling over it. Were you staying the night? 

What a weird fucking man. Can’t take a bath together after fucking you senseless but invites himself to stay over? In what realm is the latter less intimate? Still, you don’t find it in you to argue, plopping yourself to lie down next to him, Stolas following suit. 

You’ll think about it tomorrow.

[. . .]

“What’s got you so happy?” Millie asks you as you get ready to leave for Loo Loo Land, as Stolas has requested you work as security for him during his outing with Octavia, his daughter, which is something you wouldn’t normally do, but he must have offered a lot of money for Blitzø to agree. She’s asked you what your night at the palace had been like, but you hadn’t had the chance to talk to her in person about it yet. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell her, checking your gun’s cartridge. 

“‘T’s probably the dick down she got this weekend,” Blitzø inserts himself into the conversation, and you send him a dirty look. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

A/N:I hope this doesn't suck omfg lmaooo and if the last few paragraphs do suck cut me some slack my brain is so fried at this point lol. anyways enjoy.