#watch!! the first episode is boring but i liked the second

[hearts4hughes]

tied up - rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: master manipulator!rafe ; mentions of violence ; sexual innuendos towards the end

a/n: the second i saw rafe tied up and sweaty in this episode, i KNEW i had to write about it. this is probably the first of many writings relating to this scene.

the ship rocks gently beneath you, creaking in time with the water lapping against its sides. you step carefully, feeling the weight of the metal plate in your hands, warm against your fingertips. the scent of food mixes with the salt air, thick and lingering, though you’re sure he won’t touch it. rafe sits a few feet away, hands bound to a pipe in front of him, his head drooped forward. he doesn’t look up as you approach, but you can feel his awareness.

you pause, just out of reach, and the light catches his profile—a bruise blooming darkly his eye, his lip split and red, dried blood marking his mouth like some careless stain from when jj knocked him out. he lifts his head slowly, almost deliberately, and his gaze finds yours. his eyes are sharp, narrowed, an intense blue like broken glass in sunlight, calculating and unreadable.

the plate feels heavier in your hands, like it’s suddenly full of something fragile. you set it down, the scrape of metal on wood cutting through the silence like a match. he doesn’t move, just watches you with that unblinking look, like he’s trying to measure how much of you he could break if his hands were free. the thought chills you, but you don’t step back.

“eat,” you say, trying to sound calm, detached, but your voice feels too loud in the confined space. his mouth twitches, a hint of something that might be a smile, but it’s too cold, too hollow. you can see the strain in his shoulders, the pure anger in the way he holds himself, but underneath it—something else. a flicker of vulnerability he’s trying hard to hide.

“so, they send you down to try to convince me to eat? think it would soften me up or something?” his voice is rough as it echos through the confined room. “i already told sarah that i’m not eating until they untie me.” he says with pure defiance. his eyes bore into you as if he’s trying to study you.

you turn your head, your gaze diverting to the dusty floor. “actually, no one sent me down here. they could give a shit if you starved or not. it would be doing everyone a favor.” you avoid his eyes, afraid that your confidence would melt if you met them.

for a second, you wonder if he’s about to say something, something meant only for you, and the realization tightens in your chest like a warning.

“then, why are you here?” he asks harshly. you look up to meet his haunted eyes, a chill runs down your spine and butterflies settle in your stomach. “what happened to never wanting to see me again, huh? what happened to ‘i love you forever’ ?”

his words command a flood of memories to rush through your head. your breathing becomes heavier as you remember it all; the lingering gazes, the sweet nothings, and finally, the way the absence in his eyes as he shot sherif peterkin.

“you know what happened, rafe,” you warn, your voice cracking slightly. he smirked, almost as if he could sense your anxiety. “you know why i left you.”

rafe’s smirk deepens, twisted and bitter, and he leans forward as much as the bindings allow him. “left me?” his voice is low, mocking, but there’s something raw in it too. “come on. we both know you didn’t leave me—you never really left me.”

the words cut through you, sharper than you expect, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. he watches you, waiting for a reaction, relishing it, and maybe even needing it. his gaze is relentless, pining you there like you were the one in restraints.

you force yourself to meet his eyes, even as every instinct screams to look away, to leave the room, and to escape. “i did, though. i left you because you weren’t the man i started dating. you were this,” you gesture to his bruises, his dried blood, and his hostility shimmering in his expression; the man who seems like a stranger and yet is all too familiar.

“you’ve always been mine.” he mutters more to himself than to you. “and i’m- i’m trying to change, y/n. i’ve been trying to change.” he says sternly, almost as if it was obvious, but it wasn’t. “y-you people don’t understand that i can change. i can change just as easily as you and sarah did when you started hanging around those goddamn pogues!” he raises his voice, jolting forward, and causing you to jump back.

when he notices you flinch, his gaze softens. he take a deep breath and sits back. you swallow harshly as he shifts from 0 to 100 in mere seconds.

“i’m just trying to change for the better; for you.” his voice is soft, not like what it was before. you can hear the sadness and the desperation dripping from his mouth.

it’s a trap. it’s all a trap. you’ve known rafe long enough to sense when he’s being manipulative, and he’s at his peak right now. you don’t respond, shaking your head, and going to grab the plate of food. as you grab the mental dish, his hands clasp around your wrist. the plate drops to the floor with a clatter.

“don’t- don’t go.” he whispers softly. his eyes search your face for even an ounce of reciprocated feelings. you bite the inside of your cheek as you ponder the possibilities. “stay here with me… please.” he isn’t speaking anymore, no, he’s begging.

your guard completely falls, leaving yourself vulnerable, and raw to his manipulations. when he senses the sudden shift, it’s as if he latches onto you, stringing his webs tighter around you.

you relax your shoulders with a sigh, not saying yes, but not leaving. he smiles and his eyes fall to your plump lips. his grip tightens around your wrist, fingers wrapping around your pulse. his breath is shallow and ragged, as if he’s afraid you’ll drift away.

your pulse quickens, a silent thrum that feels too loud, too obvious. his thumb moves softly, tracing small circles against your skin, a touch that’s barely there but enough to send a rush of warmth up your arm. you could pull away, break the moment before it goes any further, but you stay still.

rafe’s eyes drop to your lips, his jaw clenching as he takes a steadying breath. he’s drawing you closer, erasing the distance you swore to keep. “you don’t have to stay,” he murmurs, but his fingers tighten, betraying his words. “but… I don’t want you to leave.”

he inches closer, his face barely a breath away as his scent fills your senses. you can feel him hesitating, struggling against something, something that holds him back as much as it pulls him forward.

thousands of thoughts, warnings, and memories flash through your mind like blinding headlights, but they quiet under the intensity of his stare. then, he leans forward, closing the final sliver of space between you. his lips press softly against yours, and as if surrendering, you begin to kiss him back. the kiss begins gentle and sweet, but quickly turns into something desperate and fiery.

his tongue teases your mouth, slipping against your bottom lip. he’s frantic, raw, almost as if he’s afraid of losing you again, like he’s trying to make up for everything that happened. your lips slot against his like a puzzle piece.

you pull away breathlessly and stare at him. he lifts his arms that are bound by rope just enough for you to slip under them, now straddling his lap. you settle on his lap, something hard presses against your ass.

he smirks, “feel what you do to me, baby? i’ve missed you so much.”

the way he stares at you then and there tells you that you’ll be his forever. that there is no escape from him, even if you allow yourself to believe so. you’ll eternally be stuck in his web as he dances around you, only adding more silk to restrain you.

“calm down and untie me.” he says with a twisted grin. “let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

[matt0044]

This is something I've often experienced with other shows be they stuff I have it bad for or stuff that I acknowledge is good but isn't for me. It's gotten to the point where when I see something getting dunked yet see that it's a fairly thriving series or even a full-on franchise, I start to scrutinize the scrutiny.

Especially when a lot of the popular talking points are either memes or passed around so often, they may as well be meme.

A while back, Netflix's 13 Reasons Why was bandied about Tumblr and YouTube as this most offensive thing for it's portrayal of suicide. I was aware of how this wasn't the sort of subject to take lightly lest I be eating my foot for a full course meal. As such, I took the outrage's word for it and steered clear.

I did start to get curious with a lot of specific scenes from Season 1 being passed around for the afformentioned dunking. Such as Hannah calling Clay a nerd for referencing Star Wars only for said post to show how much The Force Awakens grossed.

Said curiosity grew when I saw many video essays tackling 13 Reasons Why. Most were negative but what I footage saw didn't seem bad. Some of it was pretty... nice actually. But still, this was the show that gave suicide and poor mental health a bad name with how the female lead took her own life seemingly out of revenge.

So... I stayed away. That is, until I saw a billboard for Season 2 in NYC. Now this got me seeing that this show had a legit audience. Not just hatewatchers but those invested in the story of Hannah Baker and Clay Jensen. That's when I decided to add it to my watch list.

At best, it would be bad but maybe a fascinating kind of bad. The kind that RiffTrax would sink their teeth into. At worst, it would be a bore and I'd turn the other way. Then I started to watch it.

Twenty Six episodes later... I loved it. I felt that it... spoke to me emotionally on how life can be so messed up. I loved how no character was totally good or bad. How even Number 12 on the tapes had his depths despite being, well, the worst really.

When Hannah reached the end of her rope, I found myself begging her to not do what I knew she'd do. When Tyler Down tried to take matters into his own hands, I wished I could be there to talk him down. It takes a very special kind of story to invoke that kind of visceral dread.

Now if you've heard me out, how it relates to RWBY is that a lot of the dismissal and derision relies on a specific kind of media illiteracy: the active lack of curiosity.

Rather than be curious about people pitching a fit about "X show" and seeing for themselves what all the hubbub is about, they just stay away. They go with the crowd essentially.

And why wouldn't they? It's like how school bullies get away with picking on their victims even in front of others. Anyone else who doesn't want to play hero would keep their head down and not even be associated with the targeted kid.

I mean, we've got clickbait titles called "We Watch 'X' So You Don't Have To." That is literally ripping off the Nostalgia Critic AKA baby's first Angry Geek. It's not that looking into a show so you'd know if it's worth your time or not is bad. It's when it's from second hand sources like very leading Video Essays.

So many act autoritative and present themselves with the kind of confidence we so wish we had in ourselves. We trust that they're editing isn't being coy and that their assessment is legitimate or, if more emotionally, honest at the very least.

But what about the show itself? Why not find any clips online that highlight certain moments? Why not at least view some of the trailers? Why not go onto subreddits or Socials to ask, "Hey, why do some many seem to like this show?"

Because between James Somerton and Lily Orchard, it's become abundantly clear that there are many who are willing to abuse this this trust. And they are not isolated incidents. Even those who maybe are just giving their opinion may be twisting facts to suit their narrative. They also may be not.

But you won't know unless we let ourselves be curious. Is the show trash? Or is it just another punching bag for YouTubers to hit so money will fall out if they make a hard enough blow?

Is the show truly offensive? Or did it mishandled pre-warning those of its subject content?

Is the show bad... or just not for you?

Be curious. Find the answers for yourself. Nobody is ever immune from mob mentality.

@tumblingxelian @citadelofmythoughts @galaxy98

it is wild to me that the word of mouth on RWB/Y being 'bad' is like, secondhand

almost every time it's someone saying they've never watched the show but they got their opinion from a youtuber or reddit

the casual admittance that they outsource their thinking to other people, who they don't know, and they can't know are telling the truth, because they refuse to engage with the source material, and then proceed to go about their lives on pure confirmation bias, everyone who validates that opinion (regardless of whether they actually watched the show or are also regurgitating someone else's opinion as fact) is truthful and anyone who disagrees and says that the show is good, actually, is dismissed as either being a liar or stupid (because it's definitely smart and mature to make a mass value judgment on people you don't know, about a topic you know very little about)

and that's the thing, when you've got one group of people saying a piece of media is bad and the worst thing ever, and you've got another group who are saying it's good and fun, then a) it's clear there's some level of subjectivity involved here, which means the "objectively bad" claims you've been consuming should have immediate doubt cast on them (though really if anyone says anything is 'objectively bad' then they're conflating their opinion as fact and that's a red flag) and b) the smart thing to do would be to actually try to consume the media to see what it is that has appealed to people enough to contribute to its enduring popularity, even if it doesn't end up appealing to you, and not dismiss it out of hand

[jeckilon]

long ass rant about that one show and fandom experience and some other stuff feel free to read or skip or whatever

everyone that follows me here probably already knows my feelings about andor since I don’t even hide it lol but let me tell you that I wasn’t always a hater bitch

I literally had a news account on twitter (that it’s still there btw but it’s run by someone else since I quit), I was super excited for it that I read everything you can imagine about this show, I knew every new thing, every interview, anything. I woke up every week 4am to watch the new episodes and mind you I worked all day and studied at night. I literally ruined my sleep schedule for this so I guess I have the right to be a bitch if I want okay

so why such sudden change you ask. first of all I started doing therapy and finally realized that hypertixations like that are harmful as fuck and ruin your mental health. it was a good point to start and get away from it. it wasn’t easy at all lol if it was easy people would be suck on that stuff but it was making me sick and I’m glad I left that hole lol

second thing, the fandom experience after this show aired started to be SHIT in ways it waned before. I know star wars fans are definitely not know for being civil or decent people or whatever but our corner was safe. until it wasn’t. people started to get over here and try to dictate how we should feel or make fun of us for liking rogue one or shipping rebelcaptain and it really started to ruin things for me. don’t even let me get started on the fucking asks lol wtf was that. unfortunately I was not in a good mental state so I answered those and wanted to pick fights but don’t worry I now realize it’s stupid and we should let these people choke alone

and well, those two things combined kinda woke me up from this obsession and the result of seeing all this left a super sour taste in my mouth. that you can see from all my salty posts from my alt account lol I apologize for that also

after 2 years in, I just decided want to ignore all this the best I can and honestly pretend this show doesn’t exist if it’s possible. I love and respect everyone here that I consider a friend and I hope y’all have a blast with season 2 but I’ll do my best to pretend it’s not even there. maybe I’ll find other interests to keep me busy, maybe I’ll take a break from here or whatever but it’s not worth it

I’m really NOT looking forward for all the dumb takes and posts taking shit about rogue one and jyn and rebelcaptain shippers or whatever lol this is beyond pathetic please these people need to get a life. I know I’m guilty of finding these horrible shit and I apologize, I promise I’ll definitely not look for them anymore

I love rogue one with all my heart, rebelcaptain is literally the most important ship for me and I’m so grateful for everyone I met here but if I need to just leave for a while then I will

and if I’m allowing myself to be a massive bitch for the last time while we’re here… no I’m not doing this. whatever. it’s not worth it. jk im gonna say it these annoying people are super jealous about rebelcaptain because their “canon” ship is boring as fuck and will never have 10% of rebelcaptain’s relevancy lmaooo keep being pressed and irrelevant mwah

[fridaysthe13th]

KISEKI CHAPTER 2 "Episode 2"

[100-gar]

Controversial take but i watched all of jjk, in subbed, so it had my full attention 100% of the time, and i am of the opinion that it just fucking sucks.

So me and my wife were talking about it, and we were trying to figure out why people like it and we've come up short. I do not understand what's so appealing about this show for so many people. Can someone PLEASE tell me.

[hauntingblue]

LUFFY!!!!!!!!! I HAVE BEEN CONVERTED!!!! LUFFY BELIEVER FULL TIME!!!!! LET US WORSHIP THE SUN!!!!

[perenlop]

damn they were not subtle with dedede turning the forest into a golf course specifically

[thatonecrookedsmile]

Before the month started, I had made my own tierlist of projects and announcements that are/will be shown during the special FNAF anniversary week based on how excited I was/am for them. The highest ones are the ones I'm most interested in and the lowest ones are the ones I'm…not.

I did this at the end of July, and only now did I remember to post it here.

The week is going well, but it's this second half that will be more interesting.

OG Tierlist/Template.

[just-someone-online]

I'M FINALLY DONE WITH GOGO! FRESH PRECURE LET'S GOOOOO!

[nomaishuttle]

u guys cant judge me for anything i say after the first two sentences of this post are we clear. ok good. So ive been watching spn famously and there was one episode where theyre like you know. doing spn things.but supermassive black hole came on in the background and me and hal (im watching with hal obv) both shot up it was awesome

[crownspeaksblog]

Thoughts on 4x13 of lone star..

Okay i just finished watching 4x13 of lone star and i just didn't care about this episode i find it kinda lazy..

Owens girlfriend (i forgot her name) being nonchalant about being in an open relationship with her husband is annoying and it's lazy writing because the show is just like let's put a "twist" by just having this woman not tell owen about her husband and then act like owen is crazy for not picking up on it as if open relationships are the most common thing in this world.. a similar thing happened in shameless and i don't remember it bothering me as much because i actually liked the characters (to a certain extent).

I love grace but i don't care about her dad and i think the way they went about grace forgiving him (or at least beginning to) is again lazy.. i can just imagine the writers being like "how do we solve this conflict with grace and her dad" "oh let's just have him almost die/be in a coma, that'll fix it" and that's just boring and lazy. Instead of making the dad try to make amends and apologize to grace for doing that to her mom and apologize for disappointing grace. They just put him in a hospital bed... and i know I'm probably being hypocritical because they do that with tarlos but the difference (other than i love them) tk and carlos are fleshed out characters who actually talk to eachother and apologize to eachother.

Also a similar thing happened in doctor who when ryan was upset with his dad who's not apart of his life and didn't even show up to his moms funeral and two seconds later the dad got possessed by a dalek and suddenly rayn forgives him...

I understand the point that life is short and you never know when you're gonna lose people so you forgive them but.... in a story that kinda lazy and kinda boring..

[hecksupremechips]

The oa kinda fucking rules honestly

[dollfacefantasy]

would you write a threesome w leon and chris… because… like maybe leon is your (older,,, like death island) boyfriend and he introduces you to his friend chris!! and idk you three end up having a threesome (consensual)… and you’re embarrassed because. you’ve never done this before n you’re all clingy with leon (maybe daddy kink??) n he’s like comforting you as he and chris fuck you at the same time ?!?!?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: your boyfriend leon wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend chris.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, dacryphilia

word count: 6.6k

a/n: thank you anon for sending this idea, it's right up my alley fr. also thank you for sending it again after i fumbled the bag the first time🤭🫶. the next threesome fic will be coming soon, i just ended up having more inspo for this one lol. hope you guys like it. reblogs and comments are super appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“I’m just saying I think you both would really like it if you gave it a try,” you say, a bright smile on your face as you walk up the path to your and Leon’s shared place. Him and his friend trail behind you with equally pleased looks, the friend in question being Chris Redfield.

“No way. I did try it, and it was boring. Slow and drawn out. Also, it’s so unrealistic,” Chris says.

“Booooo. It’s not even slow. Stuff happens in like every single episode, at least in the early seasons,” you argue in an attempt to convince the pair to watch one of your favorite shows, “I just think there’s a lot you guys would like about it if you weren’t so impatient.”

“Babe, it’s got like, what? Over five seasons? I don’t have that kind of time,” your boyfriend replies.

You playfully roll your eyes and unlock the front door, stepping inside followed by the two men you were with. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go change cause this skirt is like super itchy,” you tell them.

Before you can walk away, you feel a familiar palm swat your ass. “It’s like super cute though, shows off those pretty legs,” Leon teases, his tone affectionately mocking.

You whip around to shoot him a glare, face hot with a mixture of emotions, mainly embarrassment with a pinch of arousal. 

“Leon,” you whisper, giving him a look that says not in front of Chris. 

He simply chuckles at your quiet protest and shakes his head with amusement, ruffling your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You catch Chris’s gaze as you turn to leave. To your surprise, he isn’t rolling his eyes or visibly wishing for the two of you to get a room. He’s smiling. His expression is different from the one you were used to seeing on Leon, but it still held the same patronizing adoration that soaked your panties in seconds.

Brushing it off as your imagination, you scamper down the hall to the bedroom. You hum to yourself as you drop your skirt and kick it into the laundry. Rifling through your drawers to find something more comfortable to wear, your hands search through some different clothes before settling on a pair of loose pink shorts. After pulling the soft garment over your legs, you look in the mirror and then decide to slip your bra off too.

Sure, some people would frown on that move, but you were in your place and it’s not like Chris is a total stranger. He was one of your boyfriends closest friends. You’d hung out with him and Leon together multiple times, and from what you gathered, he was pretty cool. It’s not like the two of you were best friends yourself. Like your boyfriend, he was quite a bit older than you. But just as you bridged that gap with Leon, so far it seemed like you managed to bridge it with him too. To say the least, he didn’t strike you as the type to have an episode over your nipples peeking through your shirt.

Unbeknownst to you however, while your thoughts lingered on the men down the hall, their conversation centered around you as well. They had taken to the couch, sitting close to each side and leaving a space for you in the middle.

“She’s a cute little thing,” Chris chuckles, watching the hallway you had gone down.

“Mhm,” Leon confirms simply. He was scrolling through the tv, trying to find that show you’d been talking about.

His friend looks over at him. “You sure she’ll wanna do this?” he asks with some uncertainty in his voice, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s had a whole lot of experience with this type of thing.”

“Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” he reassures, “You just gotta let me ease her into it.”

Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he cuts himself short once he hears your footsteps approaching. You bound back into the room. Your eyes catch on the way they’re sitting, closer than you would expect. They still left room for you though, so what does it matter, right?

You hop onto the couch and tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side, gently kissing his jaw as you get comfortable and curl up on the cushion. He smiles down at you and returns the affection. He pulls you closer, but your feet are still brushing Chris’s thigh with how close he is.

“We were thinking we could watch an episode of that show you were talking about, see if we really would like it,” Leon tells you.

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine, baby. Chris doesn’t feel like driving home just yet, and you know if you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.

You look over at Chris who nods. With that, Leon puts on the show. The familiar intro music plays and you watch the screen as a scene that you’d seen a million times plays out. You sink into his side, settling against his warm body. The episode plays, and you point out little things you like or remember something specific about. Both men nod and chuckle at your excited remarks.

Even though the couch and cuddling are comfy, your legs start getting a bit cramped from being curled up for an extended amount of time. You squirm around a bit, wanting to just stretch out. Chris prevented you from doing that as his bulky frame occupied the space your legs could be.

Leon smirks as he notices your restlessness. He shifts around a bit himself and leans back further into the couch. His feet rise up and land on the coffee table a few feet away, his legs stretching out in front of him. He doesn’t even have to see your face to know your eyes catch on his limbs. Their state of being outstretched only makes your need to do the same more intense. He gives Chris a quick glance.

“You uncomfortable, honey?” the larger man asks you.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. Hearing that pet name coming from anyone else but Leon left you flustered. You tried to reason that it didn’t mean anything. This was clearly another instance of you overthinking. Maybe Chris was just the type of guy who said that sort of thing? The kind that called cashiers sweetheart or darling. The kind who’d put your hand on your waist when saying excuse me. You didn’t remember him acting like this any of the other times you’d met him though. He was always polite with you, but that was about it. Maybe you just didn’t notice before?

“Um… I’m fine. Just a little cramp,” you explain.

He smiles at you, that same kind from earlier. “Well, I don't bite. You can stretch your legs out if you want to, princess,” he teases.

Princess. Ok that was definitely something. That name was reserved solely for the man whose arm was around you, and it usually came out only when he was prepping you to take his cock. You typically heard it as a coo when you were already crying out your own special name for him. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The two just went hand in hand. Honestly, you couldn’t really hear one without the other following close behind.

That’s why you get all timid and shy so easily. You were pretty sure Leon had psychologically conditioned you or something. Just a few touches in the right place, some words whispered in your ear in the perfect hushed tone, and you were a goner. Suddenly, your brain would feel soft and malleable. Urges appear within you to sit in his lap and cuddle. You’d just wanna look up at your daddy with dazed eyes and have him stick something in your mouth.

And sure, it wasn’t like you were brainwashed or something. You still possessed self control. It wasn’t like he’d pet your head and call you his baby, and you’d instantly lose yourself over it. It was just a slow slip into this side of your personality, and being around Chris didn’t exactly deter those feelings from coming out either because just look at him. He looked like he was meant to be called daddy. Whenever Leon would tease you in front of him, it felt like you soaked your panties even quicker than normal.

You're snapped out of your analysis of this moment when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your ankle. He pulls your leg out, and in-turn, drags you closer. A soft squeak escapes you as your body slides down Leon’s. Your back is still resting against his side, just lower. More of you is spread across the sofa, and your calves were fully in Chris’s lap.

You look up at your boyfriend to see his response to his friend’s action, but he didn’t even seem interested. He barely spared you a second glance in your new position, simply adjusting his arm to accommodate the new location of your head. He wraps it below your jaw and has you rest your chin on the bend of his elbow. His fingers start rubbing soothing, little circles on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Chris’s large palms merely rest on your legs. He gives you a smile before turning his eyes back to the tv screen. You quickly follow suit. If he wasn’t thinking this was weird, you weren’t going to make it weird by dwelling on it.

For a while, it’s fine. The three of you continue watching the show, albeit a little more quiet than before. Leon’s hand remains on your shoulder and keeps up his light touches. Your body relaxes again though as you let go of any nervousness you had. But then, Chris starts moving his hand too.

His palm smooths out over your lower leg. His other hand rubs your ankle, his fingertips coasting over the joint. One is moving in long strokes while the other stays in tight circles, but both go at a sensual pace, slow and teasing.

Your head turns to look at him again, but you find his stare is still on the characters of the tv show. You watch his hands move. They’re now essentially massaging your legs. His hand that had been lower has risen and works on the muscles, digging his warm digits into the flesh.

You squirm a little, trying to alert your boyfriend that his friend was touching you in a way that seemed more than friendly. It doesn’t work though. If he does see, he doesn’t mind because he simply leans down and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head before reverting to his same position. You almost felt crazy for a second. This wasn’t normal, was it? Had you just lived your life not knowing that it was a regular thing for a boyfriend’s friend to give you a massage like this? Was Leon ok with it cause he was there so it couldn’t go too far? You really had no clue.

If you were being honest though, Chris’s hands didn’t feel bad. Not at all. They felt really good. They were big and warm and moved with strategy. They hit all your sweet spots. Kinda made you wanna crawl into his lap so he could rub more of your body, but that was the problem. This wasn’t right. You felt that saccharine heat creeping up your spine and seeping into your head, but you shouldn’t be feeling that for anyone else besides the man behind you.

Now guilt casts a shadow over you too, and the pair of emotions was a volatile mix. You didn’t even realize it, but your nipples had started to stiffen. Your thighs shift against each other, and had you really been paying attention, you would have seen the way Chris’s lips slightly quirked up into a smirk. Your body gets a little tense as you run through the possibilities of what you should do in this situation.

As if Leon could sense your thoughts racing, his hand lowers and starts rubbing your arm. Deciding to remain where you are for now, you press your cheek against his bicep for comfort. Not that you could see, but just like Chris, his expression grows smug. His hand readjusts again so it’s closer to your chest. Your eyes widen as he basically starts feeling you up. His hand squeezes your breast before his fingers circle your nipple, gently tweaking the hardened bud. 

At the same time, the hands on your legs start moving higher. The broad strokes begin meeting your thighs too. Little bumps of anticipation erupt across your skin. You already knew your center would soon be slick. 

Your head feels hot now. It made you feel a weird kind of dizzy. Even though it was only a few hands and simple touches, it was so much. Combined with the fact that it was so unusual, you started feeling overwhelmed. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your hands feel tingly. You feel a whimper rising in your throat. When he finally glides his hands up to the hem of your shorts, your legs jerk and you scoot back.

By the time Chris looks over, you’re already in Leon’s lap, arms around him, face buried against his neck. He’s worried for a second that something was seriously wrong. Profuse apologies rush to the tip of his tongue, but Leon signals him to just wait.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, a hand sliding beneath your shirt to rub your back. Of course, he knew the answer already. He knew exactly how you got with this kind of stuff which is why he knew exactly how to handle it.

You end up simply shaking your head, unable to articulate the exact reason for your distress. Because really, nothing was wrong. Everything felt right. But it shouldn’t feel right? Maybe that’s what was wrong. That’s too much for your mouth to get out while you feel like this though.

“Aw, is my pretty girl feeling shy?” he whispers and strokes your hair.

You nod, pulling back a little to reveal your face and look up at the familiar set of eyes you found so much comfort in. He gives you a small kiss of reassurance before continuing to coax you with his low and soothing tone.

“Oh sweetheart, why are you shy? You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says.

“Because…” you start softly, nervously glancing at Chris only to see him watching the entire exchange. You force your attention back to your boyfriend. “Because Chris is here.”

His chest rumbles with a low laugh. “Oh, princess. That’s not a reason. Didn’t you like how Chris was touching you? Wasn’t he making you feel good?”

“I guess…” you admit.

“See? You don’t have to be embarrassed around daddy’s friend. He only wants to play with you because you’re so cute,” he teases and lands a barrage of kisses on your cheek.

You were going to freak out about him using the d word in front of someone else, but looking over at Chris, he didn’t look at all shocked. His eyes were soft and comforting as they watched you, but you were still a little uncertain. You turn your face back into Leon. He keeps rubbing your back and holds you a little closer on his lap.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. I just think you’d have a lot of fun,” Leon says softly, “You know how wet that pretty pussy gets thinking about someone else watching you with daddy, joining in because he just can’t resist a good girl like you.”

He was right. He knew your fantasies like the exact situation playing out in your living room right now. But it was scarier when it was real. You didn’t have the control anymore. That's what made it exciting too though.

“It’s just Chris, honey,” he continues reassuring you, “He’d never hurt you. He thinks you're as precious as I do. But even still, daddy’s gonna be here the whole time. You know I’d never let anything hurt my girl.”

You soften up more, relaxing under Leon’s touch and tender words. As you’re thinking it over, leaning towards going through with this, Chris scoots closer to the two of you on the couch. He tentatively places his hand on your leg and caresses your skin.

“It’s up to you, babydoll,” he says, “I only wanna help your daddy make you feel good.”

Oh god. He was a natural at this, talked down to you just the way you liked.

“See, princess? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Leon says. He strokes some of your hair back and watches as you look at the other man, deciding whether to let him in or not. He chuckles in your ear. “He’s acting cool, but you don’t know how bad he’s been wanting a turn with you. I’m sure you’ve seen him staring. Sometimes I think he’s practically drooling watching you. You know he goes home and strokes his dick raw, wishing it was your pretty little hands instead.”

It’s obvious there’s some truth to Leon’s statement from the way Chris remains silent. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you mull it over. Why was it so bad? You wanted it and they both wanted it. Why should you stop yourself?

You look up at your boyfriend and nod, silently communicating that you wanted this. He smiles and shifts you in his lap so that you’re in a more accessible position. One hand rubs your inner thighs while his other arm stays wrapped around your body to hold you close. 

Upon seeing your confirmation, Chris comes even closer. As he gets situated, Leon leans in and connects his lips with yours in a few soft kisses. Your noses brush and breathing deepens. He strokes your cheek before pulling away and looking in your eyes.

“Why don’t you try that with Chris, baby? Give him some of those kisses he’s been dreaming about,” he breathes.

Your focus shifts to the man sitting to your boyfriend’s right. Eyes casting down, you bring your head forward, and Chris closes the gap. Your breath hitches when you feel the unfamiliar lips meet your own. They’re noticeably different from the pair you were used to, but it wasn’t a bad different.

You move your lips with his, shuddering a little when you feel him grunt. He struggles not to take more than what you give. Leon watches on with a grin, stroking your hair and making sure it was out of your face. Your hand maintains an iron grip on him the entire time. 

“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear.

All three of you had long stopped paying attention to the tv, so Leon shuts it off. He then leans in to suck little love bites onto your throat. You whine into your kisses with his friend. The sound causes you to open your mouth, allowing Chris to slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan and reciprocate the advance. His smiles against your lips as his hand glides up and gropes at one of your breasts, drawing another whimper from you.

Several hickeys later, Leon removes his mouth from your neck to admire his work. His fingers drag over the wet, darkened skin. He licks one more stripe over the area before leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re slightly out of breath, eyes dilated, and lips a bit puffy.

“Aw, look at that face,” Leon teases, talking more to Chris than you, “She loves her kisses. Sometimes I think she likes it more than the actual fucking.”

“I could tell. All those sweet sounds she was making,” Chris chuckles. His chest rises and falls in a pattern similar to yours.

“Oh yeah, so sensitive, my baby,” Leon coos, “You wanna go sit in Chris’s lap and give him some more kisses?”

You shake your head and tighten your grip on his hand. They both smile at your timid display.

“My mistake. You just gotta give her some time to adjust. She’s not used to anyone but daddy. Isn’t that right?” Leon jokes.

You nod and snake your arms around him, hiding your face against his chest again. He couldn’t get enough of how clingy you became when you felt like this.

“No, no. No more being shy. C’mon, his lips still have your spit on ‘em. There’s no reason for you to hide,” he teases you and guides your head back up to see your eyes, “You still wanna do this, don’t you?”

You nod again, looking up at him with those loving eyes.

“That’s what I thought, so how about this?” he starts. He gets your arms to unlock from their position around him and tucks his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “How about we show daddy’s friend more of this precious body, yeah?”

You lift your arms and allow him to tug the fabric up and over your head. Your breasts spring free, but his hands are immediately there to cup them, knead the flesh, and tease your nipples. From his place next to the two of you, Chris’s eyes drop to the swell of your chest.

“You’re even prettier than Leon told me, baby,” he coos before leaning in, giving you one more kiss and then trailing his lips down the side of your throat. They glide over the warm skin and across the expanse of your chest.

Your boyfriend’s hands drop from your breasts, letting Chris’s take their place. You shift and lean back so your back is pressed to Leon’s chest, giving the other man more access. He fondles them before latching his mouth onto a nipple, his tongue swirling around the little peak. A little sigh escapes your lips to the pleasure of both men.

“I think she likes that, Chris,” Leon croons, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.

Chris sucks on the pebbled nub a bit more before alternating to the other one. He spends less time over there before just kissing all over your chest.

“Got such pretty tits,” he grunts, laving a tongue across your skin.

Your face heats up at the compliment, and of course, Leon knew without even having to look. He could tell by the slight way you squirmed your hips on his lap.

“Aw, princess. You like when daddy’s friend calls you pretty?” he coos. Once he sees your little nod, he continues. “How about you let him pull down your shorts and see how cute your cunt is next.”

You agree to this with no hesitation, trying to elevate your hips so he could remove your clothing. Chris smirks at your overt desire. In a quick move, he scoots back and pulls by your hips so that you’re laying across the couch again. Your head is on Leon’s thigh so you can look up at him while your fingers remain tightly interlaced with his.

The larger man peels your shorts off and then your panties. He gazes upon your dripping cunt. His thumb drags up and down through your slick in an exploratory touch.

“Oh, honey,” he breathes, circling your clit. His hand moves down again before he slides two fingers into your hole. “You’re gonna take our cocks so well. Pussy this pretty is made for that.”

You suck in a gasp that turns into a long whine as his digits fill you up. His fingers were nice and thick, filling you up just right. Your eyes flutter, and your head presses against Leon’s thigh. Chris starts pumping them in and out, stroking your inner walls.

“That’s right, baby,” Leon reassures you, “He’s gonna open you up, and you’re gonna feel so good.”

A breathy whimper falls from your lips. Your hips rock a little, but Chris allows it, enjoying your enthusiasm as you become more comfortable. You feel his fingers curling within you in motions that drive you wild and have your hands grabbing at the edges of the couch cushion beneath you.

“There you go, sweet baby. Am I doing it right?” Chris asks teasingly. With your frantic nod, he works a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back and you choke out a moan.

Leon smiles down at you and strokes your hair. His bulge grows harder, watching you get so wound up for his friend.

“Make sure you rub her pretty little clit, Chris. She loves that,” he says, “Might be a little sore since she likes to play with it so much.”

Chris grins at that, taking his turn to tease you now. “Is that right? You like playing dirty, princess? I bet you can’t help it. Cute girls like you get needy so easy. Can’t think without making yourself cum every few hours, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

“I’ll be gentle then. Think your sweet spot just needs some special kisses,” he coos.

He bends down so his mouth can be level with your cunt, a bit of a challenge with his size, but he manages. His lips meet your clit and give you some soft kisses. A little flick of the tongue and the light movement of his flesh against your sensitive bundle of nerves has your walls fluttering around him, little mewls escaping your lips.

Then, with a harsh suck to your clit, he works a fourth finger inside you. Your legs kick a little, but he simply slides them to rest on his shoulders. Every little twitch next to his head has more of his blood rushing south. Your hips buck too as you adjust to the minor stretch.

“You’re daddy’s perfect girl, you know that right? Girl of my fuckin’ dreams. Doing so good for me right now,” your boyfriend says from above you. His eyes watch on fondly as Chris slides basically his entire hand in and out of you. “Think you can cum for Chris, baby? Gush all over his fingers so it’s nice and easy for him and daddy to fill you up?”

You nod quickly. 

Chris sucks harder on your clit and flicks his tongue against you with more fervor. His hand finds a rhythm that you seemed to like, had you twitching more than before. He could hear your voice rising to a higher pitch.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make your daddy proud,” he murmurs against your folds.

You really don’t know what it was, but that phrase does you in. You turn your face against Leon’s hip, dig your fingers into his palm, and erupt into a frenzy of whining and bucking your hips. 

Chris continues his efforts, relishing the sensation of your slick coating his fingers and palm. His lips gradually loosen on your swollen bud. He gives it a few more licks before sitting up and gazing down at your blissed out body.

They both give you a second to rest before Leon sits you up on the couch. He gives you a quick kiss and looks into your eyes, hazy from release.

“Think you’re ready for daddy and Chris to fuck you?” he coos and rubs your cheek.

“Mhm,” you hum, returning his loving stare.

“Of course you are. My sweet girl,” he says.

The two men don’t waste time undressing themselves. Clothing piles up on the ground as they match your nudity. Both of them stand as they undo their belts and drop their pants. You’d seen Leon’s dick a hundred times by now. You watch him pull it out and give it a few strokes. The tip flushes bright red like always, a couple familiar veins span up the side. You turn your attention to Chris, looking upon a sight you hadn’t seen before.

You’re snapped out of your post-orgasm stupor when you catch a glimpse of the appendage hanging between Chris’s legs. Just like every other part of him, it’s noticeably thick. The length was good too, sure, but it wasn’t the main attraction. His cock didn’t get as red as Leon’s, but it still had the veins. He even had a few beads of white, sticky precum leaking from the head.

“Oh, you like what you see, baby?” Leon teases when he notices your wonder, “I’m sure Chris would be happy to let you suck on it next time.”

“Daddy, it’s not gonna fit,” you say, looking up at him and ignoring the tempting idea of giving Chris a blowjob.

He smiles down at you, simultaneously condescending and affectionate. “Of course it will. C’mere, princess,” he says. 

In no time at all, Leon’s back on the couch, guiding you on top of him. You crawl to meet the place he’s directing you. Lowering yourself against him, your front rests against his and your head lies near the crook of his neck. The warmth of his body comforts you but not enough to push out your concerns completely.

“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you nice and comfy on daddy’s cock, and then Chris will just slide right in,” he reassures you, “You’re gonna feel so good. You just let me take care of everything.”

His arm had already slithered beneath your hip to line up his shaft with your entrance. He runs the tip through your soaked folds then pushes in. A whiny moan escapes you, and your arms wrap tighter around him. The feeling wasn’t a new one, but it still felt so good. He works himself in and out slowly, hips rocking off the couch in small thrusts.

“That’s my girl, taking it just like you’re meant to. I’ve got you trained so well,” he murmurs against your hair.

The entire time, you feel Chris’s eyes on you. His pupils fixated on the sight of Leon pumping in and out of your gushing cunt. You hear him spit down onto his hand and know he’s started to stroke himself in anticipation. Other than that, he stays quiet, locked onto you sucking up every inch of your boyfriend's cock.

Leon continues gliding in and out. You feel the muscles in his chest and neck straining with the pleasure your pulsing walls give him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Chris did a good job with you,” he groans. His breaths become ragged as he staves off true euphoria. This couldn’t end too quickly. “You know, babydoll, I don’t think you said thank you to Chris for making you feel so good. That’s not very nice.”

You whimper as your brain registers the implication of his words. At the moment, you were more focused on rolling your hips with Leon’s, but you force some words out of your mouth cause you’re a good girl after all.

“Sorry daddy,” you say, cut off by a whine as he pokes a sensitive spot, “T-thank you, Chris.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he responds. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, but you don’t have the chance to linger on it since you feel his broad palm land on the small of your back. His fingers rub the skin gently, as if to keep you calm while he positions himself on his knees behind you. You whine again and cling harder to Leon.

“You can say thank you better than that, baby,” he teases, trying to keep any fear away from you. He presses a kiss to your temple as well and rubs your back, “What are you thanking him for?”

“Thank you for making me cum, Chris. Your fingers and kisses felt so good,” you whimper, adding on the last bit before Leon could correct you further.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he repeats with excessive adoration, “You deserve it for being such a good girl. Besides, that pussy was so fucking sweet, makes me want another taste.”

You squeeze around Leon and bite your lip as your lower belly erupts with butterflies. And then you feel it. You feel the hot tip of Chris’s heavy cock nudging at your entrance above Leon’s. You tense and dig your fingers into the flesh of his back.

“Just relax, baby. You’re gonna be just fine. Daddy’s right here,” he coos and holds you tighter against his chest.

“You ready?” Chris asks softly.

You squeeze your eyes shut but nod, waiting to feel the stretch.

And it comes right away. You gasp as another cock enters you. Whining, your hands scramble to grab at something. Leon takes one and squeezes it lovingly, pausing his thrusts. You bury your face against his skin, your chest erratically puffing as you try to accommodate the sizes. Both men are groaning, eyes fluttering or rolled back, muscles flexing as they take in the tight, wet heat engulfing them.

“Doing so good, pretty girl, so good,” Leon mutters.

You can’t fathom any kind of response. The burning sensation of both of them was still so intense and from what you could tell, Chris wasn’t even all the way in yet. He was still pushing forward as far as he could. At a certain point, you can’t fight off the tears pricking at your waterline. Your free hand clamps over your mouth as a choked cry tumbles out.

“So fucking tight, I could cum right now,” Chris grunts.

Leon’s hand covers your right hip, tracing tiny soothing circles over your skin. Chris occupies your left, digging his fingers into the flesh. The subtle difference between the two sides drives you further into the throes of ecstasy.

When Chris manages to bully his cock nearly all the way inside you, as deep as it could go at least, Leon feels your hot tears sliding off your cheeks and pooling on his chest.

“Oh, poor baby,” he croons. He lets go of your hand for a second to swipe a few drops away, but then he takes it back. “You ok, honey? Too much for you?”

You weakly shake your head that it wasn’t too much, sniffling between whimpers. They’ve both stopped now to let you get used to the entirety of them. The site of your connection pulses with need on all three accounts. You feel Chris gripping you a little harder in an effort to keep his composure.

“My tough girl, so brave for daddy. Makin’ me so proud,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.

“So fuckin’ pretty too. You look gorgeous all filled up like this,” Chris moans from behind you.

His gaze remains on his and Leon’s cocks splitting you open. He starts rocking his hips a bit, groaning at the combined feeling of your slick walls with Leon’s length rubbing against his. Leon starts moving again too.

You let out a sound that’s between a yelp and a moan. Both of Leon’s arms snake around you to keep you engulfed in his embrace. He’s more vocal than usual, the mix of stimulation getting to him as well.

“That’s right. You keep crying for your daddy. Let me hear how much you need me. Just cry it out like the good little girl you are,” he mumbles against you.

Once you’ve become comfortable with the stretch, it starts feeling better than you’d imagined. In tandem, they’re stroking every part of you. They slide in and out, back and forth, pulling soft whines from you. The only noise apart from the three of you grunting and moaning, is the obscene noises that come from them pumping into your wet pussy. You feel your ability for coherent thoughts slipping away. You just wanted to be full of your daddy and his friend.

Chris smacks your ass while picking up his pace a bit. “Now she’s getting into it,” he says.

You get a little louder to both their enjoyment. Grabbing at Leon a little more, you shudder while hearing moans bubble up from his chest and out of his mouth.

“That’s cause you’re such a good girl. Right baby?” he asks, his voice breathier, “So good at whining for your daddy’s cock.”

You nod without a second thought. You’re panting a bit as the thrusts start hitting just right. Your expressions and the tightening of your cunt give you away. You hear both of them groaning and getting a little more primal with their movements.

“You feel that, Chris? She’s getting closer. Can always tell by the way her pussy starts trying to keep me in. So desperate for some cum,” Leon says.

“Yeah. I can feel her cute little cunt begging for it,” Chris growls.

They’re both going harder, making your mind get all fuzzy and causing more tears to fall, although by this time they’re purely tears of pleasure. Your cries are whiny and needy.

“My baby, my baby,” Leon grunts while lacing his fingers in your hair, “I want you to cum for me, ok? Wanna feel you cumming all over our cocks. Show Chris how good you make me feel every single night when you start clamping down on me.”

You don’t finish right then. It takes a handful more thrusts from each of them to hit the right buttons and work you over that edge, dropping you into a pool of euphoria. The bliss washes over you, and as Leon described, your pussy squeezes around them in waves. They’re both moaning now, grabbing you harder, sighing and gasping. You twitch on top of Leon, and he holds you close and helps you through it.

“Look at that sweet face. Always so pretty when you let go,” he mumbles just for you to hear, “Keep cumming, dolly. Want you feeling like you’re in heaven.”

Leon’s the first to blow his load, shooting it deep inside you. He pumps it in while you’re still releasing. His own hips twitch and buck while that hot, sticky liquid flows from him. 

Chris takes a bit longer, savoring every last moment he has inside your precious cunt. He keeps thrusting after you’ve finished, making you squirm with the slight overstimulation. Leon hisses too, feeling the friction from his movements against his dick.

When he finally does cum, your body is overtaken with a shiver. He fucks it deep into you. His thrusts don’t weaken while he spills it inside of you. He keeps moving in powerful strokes until he’s satisfied.

After he’s truly done, Chris leans down and kisses the space between your shoulder blades. “So good, pretty baby,” he praises softly before pulling out.

It feels weird just having Leon’s dick in you. It’s your normal but so strange now too. He slides himself out next though, so there isn’t too much time to fester on that. Sitting up, he pulls you with him while covering your face in kisses.

Everyone is laid back right now, letting the post-high wear off as you all come down. You stay curled up to Leon like you always did after finishing. He rubs your back like normal, knowing your head was most likely still up in the clouds. Eventually, all of your breathing steadies and returns to a regular pace.

Your hazy eyes open and gaze over at Chris. “Thank you Chris,” you say, tone a bit dreamier than it usually is.

“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling at you.

“Look at you, so polite,” Leon teases, “By the looks of it, you’re gonna be sitting on Chris’s lap soon enough and leaving me on the sidelines.”

You shake your head and nuzzle him. All of you take a brief moment to finish the descent back to normalcy. Chris stands to pull on his pants again. 

“We’ll get there one of these days,” he jokes.

“I don’t know about that. This one’s a daddy’s girl before anything else,” Leon says, before smooching your forehead.

[akirathedramaqueen]

Do you think this is the moment he fell in love?

Okie, it's time to shitpost speculate a bit on my favorite moment in the whole show: the end of the Truth Seekers episode.

Do you think this was the first time Blitzø was protected? Taken care of? Saved?

Just look at how in awe he is, eyes wide open, jaw dropped. I doubt we've ever seen a face like this before or after. Of course, it might also have something to do with seeing Stolas in his true form for the first time. It was eerie and terrifying, but also sublime and exalting. Oddly attractive even, maybe?

This owl demon, with eldritch ancient powers and two dozen legions, was there just for him. Stopped in his tracks of whatever royal deeds he was attending to and came to stand up for Blitzø, to scare the shit out of his... well, fuckbuddy's (or not really?) perpetrators. Stolas watched after him, knew he was in trouble! So he... cared?

I am going to repeat my starting statement - he is not used to being worried about. Here, Moxxie clearly prioritizes Millie (no blame here, it's completely valid!), and helps Blitzø to get up only after the latter sarcastically sneered, "Oh, yeah, thanks, I am fine!"

And Loona, at least until the Queen Bee episode, which happens later, was very hesitant to show even a grain of affection toward Blitzø. We know she cares, but it's not always enough to just have it in mind and not demonstrate it.

And here is Stolas, caressing Blitzø, asking if he is alright, calling him 'darling' - another first in their relationship, at least on screen. Look how confused he is for a moment; he looks away and up (defensive? scared? annoyed?) - has he ever been asked things like that before? Notice how his face relaxes after Stolas strokes his forehead. Our guy is tough, no doubt, but I bet he just realized how nice it is when there's someone who cares.

Hell knows, these five seconds are a single thread holding my mental health together after the shitshow in the Full Moon and Apology Tour episodes.

Of course, there's the second part where Stolas tones down the grandiosity of his gesture. He scolds the crew for not being careful and jeopardizing him along with them, implying that the book exchange should remain a secret. Then he negates it himself - luckily for them, demon-obsessed lunatics are not taken seriously in the human world.

I don't think this changes anything. The first thing he did was to ask if Blitzø is okay. Only after he was reassured Blitzø is fine did he begin to rant, and even then his concern addressed both the crew letting themselves into trouble and his own safety. Again, why wouldn't it be valid? However I look at it, I don't think the book is his primary interest here.

And is this the first time we see Blitzø blushing?

This blush! I bet my life that Mister Blitzø 'boring-as-fuck-monogamy' Buckzo hasn't even internalized it yet, but oh, did his heart just do a big somersault.

Listen to my voice: This is the moment he fell, even though he didn't know it himself yet. Poor boy has a lot of work to do to unlearn his coping mechanisms and let his walls down.

Thank you for coming to my sappy stand-up, don't forget your coats on your way out. *drops mic*

P.S. Oh, I lied to you. There's a bonus "Blitzø just fell so hard" face in the Seeing Stars episode, haha. Apparently Stolas's human form is just as hot as his true demonic one lol.

[em-ontv]

If I can’t have you.

Pairing: Homelander x fem!reader (who's a member of The Boys)

Summary: he’s obsessed with something he can’t have. And you just so happen to show up at a little Vought party.

Warnings: Homelander himself is a warning, language/profanities, mentions of violence, psycho behavior, a bit of stalking?, bits of obsessive behavior, use of y/n

Author's note: After weeks of hiding under a rock, I have returned with this little fic. Just a random thought, Homelander may be ooc, I don't know, I tried my best, I've only seen a few episodes of the show. Anyways, enjoy. English isn't my first language, there should be mistakes, apologies beforehand :)

Word count: 789

———————————————————————————

You weren't supposed to be there. Not at a Vought party, not at this swanky corporate party with its champagne flutes, fancy lighting from the chandeliers, and a thousand faces that were too smug for their own good. But there you were, playing the role of a nobody, trying to blend in with the crowd. The plan from Butcher was easy — get in, get out, no problems.

But then he noticed you.

Homelander.

The Golden Boy. America's fucking sweetheart. The poster child of Vought International's entire empire. He was everything you despised, everything you were working with The Boys to bring down. You knew what he was behind the flashing lights and the cameras, the bodies he had left behind without so much as a second thought. He was a ticking time bomb, dressed up in red, white, and blue. But you didn't expect him to even look your way.

It started with a file. A damn file. Some low-level paper pusher at Vought had flagged you as a person of interest — seeing your connection with The Boys. Homelander caught wind of it somehow, maybe during one of his scans to sniff out a threat, or maybe he was just bored enough to pry where he shouldn't have. And then, there it was — your face, plastered on the screen. Something about you caught his eye. You didn't look scared. You looked defiant.

That pissed him off. But it also intrigued him. So, he started watching.

At first, it was just a curiosity, a passing interest. But then it grew, and festered. He started to check in on you more and more, looking through cameras, or, fuck, his x-ray vision, flying over the city to catch sight of you. It became a sick little game for him — seeing how close he could get without you noticing, and you didn't. He'd watch you walk down the street, watch you with Butcher and his merry band of assholes, watch you when you were alone. It was thrilling for him, intoxicating, even, to know that someone like you, someone who should be terrified, was living their life so... boldly.

And that's when it became an obsession. You were something he couldn't control, something he couldn't have. And that made him want you even more.

Which is why, when you crashed Vought's little party, you felt a pair of eyes on you the moment you stepped foot into the building. You knew something was wrong, you felt it. It made your stomach churn, as if it was a warning that told you to run. But you couldn't. You had a job to do, information to gather. And you knew that Homelander wouldn't dare to make a scene at a party that was hosted for him. Not here, not now.

But then you bumped into him.

Literally.

One second you were standing beside a door, trying to catch a few whispered words between the executives, acting casual. And the next, you were backing up right into the problem itself, quickly turning around and meeting the eyes that could burn holes through your skull or melt you into a literal puddle.

"Whoops," Homelander said, with that infuriating, perfectly rehearsed smile plastered across his face, as if he wasn't the most dangerous thing in the room. "Well, what do we have here? A little spy, sneaking around my party?" he hummed, his voice low, just for you.

"Oh, no. Just someone who’s enjoying the party like everyone else is, nothing special." you said, your voice steady, although you were absolutely fucking lost inside.

"Standing close to that door won't do you any good. Why don't you come with me?" his hand reached out, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, and you fought the urge to flinch.

His eyes were piercing, searching your face like he was trying to peel back your skin and see what made you tick.

Nope. You were leaving.

He couldn't have seen through you, could he? You've never even met face to face before; how could he recognize you? Did he know that you were with Butcher?

Fuck him. Fuck Butcher. Fuck this.

"I should go. This party's been delightful." you said, giving him a smile that seemed too forced, a sour look on your face.

You turned around and quickly paced your steps to the exit, as if your lifeline was just ahead. It was. But before you could reach it—

Homelander blocked in front of you, blocked your path. The smile no longer on his face, instead, it was replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. He moved forward, one step... two steps, backing you further and further away from the exit.

"Leaving so soon... y/n?"

[cr4yolaas]

the weight of words — alhaitham x mute! reader

notes: based off of this tiktok i found a long while ago featuring a poem that serves as the base for this fic <3 i feel like this is very poorly written / rushed and it lacks a good flow but i wanted to get it out asap bc i didn’t have any more energy to write it LOL

tags: italics represent handwritten notes, reader is implied to be rlly smart / top of the class, implied depressive episode (reader), self deprecation (reader), fluff → angst → fluff, may or may not be an inaccurate rep. of mute individuals, ooc alhaitham, not proofread

this was a little more irksome than he wanted to admit.

at the very top of the akademiya, far away from prying eyes, sat a student bathed in sunlight. from a distance, he observed. you held a book in one hand and an apple in the other, while your legs dangled off of the ledge. he couldn’t discern much from your backside.

but what bothered him the most was that you were seated in “his” spot. the spot he always crept away to during lunch, mainly for its isolation and breathtaking view.

without hesitation, alhaitham approached you. he tapped on your shoulder and stared with an intensity akin to the blazing sun in june. “excuse me,” he began. “i normally sit here. i would greatly appreciate it if you moved to another place, as i’m most accustomed to this spot.”

a silence washed over as you stared up at him. your lack of response left him annoyed — did you find this funny?

however, as you set down your book and snack gently, alhaitham found himself surprised for the first time in a while.

a notebook sat on your lap as you wrote rapidly. the man watched quietly.

i’m afraid not. there are countless other spots up here, and i just happened to get to this one first.

a sigh slipped from his lips. while he wasn’t unfamiliar with stubborn personalities around campus, this particular interaction seemed to interest him more than it irritated him. alhaitham nodded and sat beside you, much to your surprise.

he listened as you flipped your page and began writing again, this time taking up less space on the paper.

why do you like sitting here? you passed the notebook to him.

he wrote much slower in comparison to you, however, his handwriting bore an elegance you had not seen before, as if each letter carried a song in the ink. you found it beautiful.

the lack of noise.

his short response made you smile — simple and straight to the point. another thing you deemed wonderful.

he did not hand the notebook back to you, but instead, continued to write. i dislike unnecessary sounds. they serve as useless interruptions. up here, i find that in comparison to the chatter of students, the ambience is soothing. alhaitham placed the notebook in your lap gingerly and looked into the distance, his gaze absent yet his thoughts reverberating.

you continued this back and forth with him for the entirety of the lunch break. the lines engraved on your palms spilled over with ink smears, and you found your dominant arm growing weary. you did not write your goodbyes on the paper, therefore leaving your conversation unfinished. you left with a smidge of warmth in your heart and a smile on your face in hopes of meeting him again the next day.

from afar, you could see the way he sat leaning slightly more towards one side, and the occasional tapping of his fingers against the table as he wrote. he drank from a small mug of what you presumed to be coffee, but rather than holding the handle, he gripped the cup from its mouth. another intricacy that piqued your interest.

he noticed your stare after a few seconds, eyes of jade and clementine meeting yours. without a word, he relocated to your table, sitting directly across from you. “hello,” he greeted softly. “i didn’t know you frequented this place either.” his gaze flickered over to your notebook peeking out of your schoolbag, and when you pulled it out to respond to him, he found himself getting uncharacteristically excited.

i don’t, actually. i wanted a change of pace, but i’m not sure how much i’m enjoying it. you pushed the book across the table to him.

is it too loud to study? that’s surprising.

you looked up at him questioningly for a moment before jotting down your reply. i’m not studying. i’m just here to read. his lips upturned noticeably at your words, an expression you wished to carve into the crevices of your memory for eternity. he was painstakingly beautiful.

alhaitham didn’t respond for a handful of seconds, instead opting to look outside the window to his left. strands of sunlight draped themselves onto his perfectly crafted face and fell between each strand of hair. a view that compared to the one at the top of the akademiya.

a conversation of short responses — ranging from questions about your darshan, to your favorite season, to the books you enjoyed reading — ensued, the evidence splayed onto the paper. you appreciated his company, for it was rare that anyone sought to talk with you.

he asked another question, his curiosity seeping out endlessly. why do you communicate like this?

a thin-lipped smile etched itself onto your lips. the ink of your pen ghosted atop the paper, your hesitation evident. i was born mute. i have no voice, therefore i cannot communicate in a normal manner.

you grew increasingly anxious as he looked at you with an expression that was terrifyingly unreadable. your hands rested atop the notebook, keeping it away from him for reasons you didn’t understand quite yet.

“that’s okay,” he spoke, the baritone of his voice cutting through your shared silence. “i don’t mind it. actually, i think i prefer it. over the grating voices of the other scholars i know, at least.” he went on about his senior, a friend in kshahrewar who apparently could never keep his mouth shut in his presence. you merely listened, soaking in his words and absorbing each syllable that spilled out of the cracks between his teeth. your confession rendered you utterly silent, but seemingly, he paid no mind.

again, your conversation ended without a proper goodbye. your notebook sat still on the table. moments after his departure, you stayed in your seat, contemplating the complications of this newfound acquaintance.

alhaitham’s life revolved around routine and quiet. he needed both to go about his day in an efficient and satisfying manner; otherwise, he would end up feeling rather unfulfilled and bothered.

perhaps that is why he found himself so drawn to you. in comparison to many of his classmates, who were incessantly obnoxious and needlessly talkative, you were quiet, not just vocally, but in every other aspect. your handwriting was consistent and each letter looked just as neat as the other. your responses were similar to his in that they were direct and honest. and, oddly, you radiated a warmth that he could not see in anyone else.

his next encounter with you wouldn’t be for a handful of days. he knew you were a student, thus resulting in his confusion — he had never seen you around campus until that day.

he ran into you during one of his lectures. you sat right beside him in a seat that wasn’t usually occupied. he began to question you with pen and paper, as usual.

since when were you enrolled in this class?

i always have been. this isn’t a necessary class for my darshan, it’s just an extra period for me to increase my credits. i don’t come to class very often.

he quirked a brow up. you fiddled with your pen.

interesting how i haven’t heard of you until now. alhaitham smiled softly at your muffled giggle, one that he had not heard until then. the noise swarmed his chest with a lightness he could not replicate.

you might have fallen too soon.

alhaitham was a simple man, yet alluring all the same. you had snuck away his perfections and imperfections in a different notebook. for instance:

3 - straightforward and direct

21 - prefers tea over coffee

44 - can’t sleep without a weighted blanket

your ever-growing infatuation for him began to blossom in the cavities of your stomach, and soon, it would infect everything above. you could not bear it — nights spent in solitude, where he would discuss his interests (which were minimal) until you fell asleep; afternoons spent in comfort, where you would share a slice of cake to celebrating a particularly difficult exam. he consumed your very being, the neurons that invoked muscular response and the veins that carried your blood here and there; all of it was him. and yet, you could not meaningfully share this with him, your silence embedding your heart in a crevice far away.

it seemed that he got to it first, anyways.

alhaitham asked you a simple question — if you were capable of speaking for a day, what would you say? he had begun carrying his own memo book to conversate — another addition to the list.

you sat in silence for a brief period before writing, every thought and feeling and idea that has ever encountered my mind would leave my lips.

he wrote, then i will give you just that, and more.

when you began dating alhaitham, you found that he was much more eager to “speak” to you consistently. he would write in his same font and present to you a variety of inquiries, ranging from plans for the day to what you wanted for dinner. he was the epitome of a loving man, a far cry from the tales of coldheartedness and brutality you’ve heard of him. and yet, something began to gnaw at your lungs as he did so.

alhaitham was your voice to speak through — he was the monotonous ramblings, the heavy whispers, the gentle laughs; he held all of those for you. seemingly, life became far more breathable.

but your love was just as restricting as it was kind. to speak is to suffer, but to not speak at all is beyond that — it is torture. nights were spent staring at alhaitham’s sleeping figure, questioning whether he truly felt the affection you expressed. gifts, contact, quality time; what good was it if you could not do something as simple as converse with him? it extended beyond him, as well — for reasons unknown, it grew increasingly difficult to communicate with your new professors and classmates, the downturns of their lips as you pulled out a notebook gut-wrenching. you questioned if alhaitham felt the same.

you began to spiral.

a rapid set of knocks arrived at your door at a questionable hour. the sun hung high in the sky, albeit obscured by your curtains. a soft buzz rung in your room.

“i know you’re inside,” a voice spoke from the other side of the wood. he knocked again.

you made no move to open the door, nor to approach it, nor to get up from your bed. in response, the hinges creaked and heavy footsteps neared.

“why have you locked yourself in here?” alhaitham asked, his tone indiscernible. you didn’t see it, but you heard him shuffling around your bedroom. “where is your notebook?”

it was silly. he spoke as if you could respond, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be sorrowful or upset.

he pulled the blanket from off of your head, his face indifferent as he witnessed your disheveled state. “i’m not sure what’s going on, but i can assure you i will wait until you’re well enough to speak to me again. i will always wait.” alhaitham set his own memo book and pen beside your pillow. a warm hand held yours, a signal of reassurance. “please get better as soon as you can.”

he turned around to leave, and you could not bring yourself to reach out for him. what would you do? would the words crawl out of your throat, akin to a miracle? or would you plead at him with desperate eyes in hopes he’d read your mind? you did not know. every instance would inconvenience him in some way — that you could not bear.

you did not step foot outside for another week. alhaitham (and kaveh, much to your surprise) had left meals and gifts next to your door, all of which remained untouched. you were in stasis.

each thought had been replaced by a fog so asphyxiating that it had drowned every word the moment it rose to the surface. a bubbling exhaustion boiled in you. you wished to speak, to express anything at all, to apologize for inconveniencing those around you, and to apologize to alhaitham for putting him through such an obstacle.

as if sensing this desire, he arrived at your dorm again, this time with a more gentle appearance and a large bag behind him.

you reached out for the notebook he placed beside you a week prior. why are you here?

he kneeled down beside you, paying no mind to your disheveled appearance, and spoke softly, “i’m sorry.” if it were fitting, he would have laughed at the instantaneous furrow of your brows. “i should’ve realized. and in failing to do so, i have failed you.” alhaitham took the notebook and pen from your grasp, and with an unrivaled delicacy, he held you.

“i would give up my own voice if it meant i could spend an eternity with you,” he began. “i do not care if you lack a voice of your own. you’re still embedded in my heart all the same.”

you had not written to him for days. and yet, he understood everything. he read the words displayed in your features with a familiarity no one had demonstrated.

758 - willing to help me heal.

alhaitham sat across from you, his back hunched over his work and his face framed with a mix of feather-gray hair and wispy sunlight. he wrote with an unmatched fluidity, as if time were escaping him.

he let out a sigh as he set down his pencil and sat up straight. “why must you sit with me if you’ve finished this assignment weeks ago? it’s as if you’re mocking me.”

it’s entertaining. he grabbed the notebook from your side of the table and wrote haphazardly, contrasting his smooth technique before.

it’s really not. i feel as if i’m being ridiculed and observed under a microscrope. it’s horrible, he teased.

you’re smart, anyways. you’ll survive.

afternoons in the akademiya’s library were once suffocating and exhausting. to be surrounded by peers who could only sneer and misjudge and question was unpleasant. now, as you sat with your lover in a soft silence, you felt at peace.