#I spent several hours last night working in a video

[snakemoltsiren]

Don't mistake my threats for bluff you have lived more than enough. Now get in the water.

[ellemj]

Making Sure: 12 Days of Smut #3 - Sex Pollen

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Summary: Bucky is exposed to a sex pollen while the two of you are snowed in, stuck in a cabin in the Swiss Alps after finishing up a mission. Oh, and of course, you happen to be his ex-girlfriend.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), possessive!Bucky, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mutual pining of sorts, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: My laptop decided it didn't want to turn on today, and then when it finally turned on it didn't want to run any apps so 12 Days of Smut almost became 11 Days of Smut. But anyway, let me know if you guys like this one! For once, it doesn't involve anyone hating anyone or an obscene amount of unbearable tension (which I severely miss).

            It’s not all that hard to work with your ex, not when you ended on decent terms. Well, as decent as they could have been. When Bucky broke up with you three months ago, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. You hadn’t been having any problems, you never had any fights, but you knew he was never as into the relationship as you were. He had said from the very beginning that he didn’t think he ever wanted a lifelong commitment. The majority of his life had been spent without having true freedom to make his own decisions. It’s safe to say the man only had about six years of making decisions for himself, between turning eighteen and joining the army. Then the army had a say in everything he did until he was taken by HYDRA. HYDRA controlled him for so long, and honestly, they still have some form of control over him if you consider his nightmares and insomnia issues. So, when things started to feel a little too serious between you two, when Bucky started to realize that he actually loved you, that’s when he called it off.

            You’d both agreed to keep the relationship between yourselves, remaining professional at work and around the others. Even Sam had never figured it out. Bucky was so good at keeping it hidden, staying completely stoic unless he was positive you were both alone. When things ended between you two, he became stoic all the time. There have been a few times where you’ve felt a bit angry with how easily he can just shut himself off and pretend like you never had anything between you. You think you might’ve been in love with him. How can you be stoic around him when you loved him? You can’t be. So, instead of being stoic, you’re just a little more quiet than usual. You get your job done, you speak to him as professionally as you can, and then you get away from him.

            Unfortunately though, there’s no getting away from him tonight. Technically, your mission is already over. You broke into HYDRA’s only remaining functional lab, you stole at least one sample of each of the various compounds that they were working on, and then you got the hell out of there. You made it all the way back to the safehouse, a small rustic cabin a little ways up in the Swiss Alps. It had been snowing for the last twenty-four hours that you’d been here, but the winter weather came to a head to today on your drive back from the break-in. By the time you got all of the samples safely inside the cabin, there was no way either of you could make the drive back down the mountain to reach the quinjet. You’re stuck here for the night.

            “I want them kept at a pretty low temperature overnight, well below thirty degrees.” Bruce has been watching you over a video call as you’ve been cataloging the samples and packing them safely into a padded case. “It’d probably be best to leave them all in the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out there.” Bucky’s sitting in the living area while you’re working at the kitchen table, but he’s still listening in. He’s listened for the last half hour as you labeled the samples and hummed a little Christmas tune to yourself. Truthfully, he almost forgot that Christmas is in a few days until he heard you humming that song that you love so much. What was it? He can never remember the name, but he recognizes it from last Christmas. You sang it often and he was lucky enough to still be yours then, to still get the privilege of listening to you flit around the tower so festively, infecting everyone around with your cheerful spirit.

            “They all fit in the case except for one, but it should be fine. I’ll just stick it in the trunk next to the case and slip it into my bag tomorrow before we drive out.” You say, holding up the thin glass flask containing a very watery, clear liquid. It looks the least terrifying, out of all of the chemicals you retrieved from the lab today.

            “Good work today, we’ll see you guys back here tomorrow, if the weather permits.” Bruce gives a little wave before ending the video call. Just as you’re closing the heavy black case of samples, Bucky rises from his seat on the couch and joins you in the kitchen.

            “I’ll take them out.” He offers, staying a few feet away from you but at least making eye contact with you. He doesn’t seem to look at you very often since you broke up, but you can’t complain about it. It makes it a little easier to get over him when you’re not drowning in his blue eyes. You give him a curt nod before sliding the case across the table and then setting the sealed flask of clear liquid on top of it.

            “Try not to jostle them around too much, carry it with two hands.”

            “Got it, two hands.” Bucky repeats. You watch as he lifts the case, leaving the glass flask resting on the lid. You think about carrying the lone chemical out there in your own hands, worrying that Bucky might tip the case a little too far and let the flask fall to the ground outside, but you brush off the worry. He’s never been clumsy, and he sure as hell hasn’t ever been careless. It’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk from the front door to the back of the car.

            In retrospect, you should’ve listened to your instincts.

            When Bucky rushes in the front door only a minute after he’s stepped outside with the chemicals, a sickening feeling settles deep in your stomach. You quickly turn to the source of commotion as he slams the door shut behind him and starts nearly jogging across the cabin, heading straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.

            “Bucky? What happened?” You call out, your feet carrying you down the hall after him. Bucky strips off his coat, dropping it on the floor in the hall before throwing the bathroom door open and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t even close the bathroom door. You step over his coat and come to a stop in the doorway as he leans down and turns on the shower.

            “Stay back.” He warns, giving you a sideways glance that makes your stomach flip. “I slipped on a patch of ice and the little glass thing on top of the case fell and shattered. Whatever was in it evaporated quick, but I inhaled a lot of it. I don’t know if I got any on me.”

            Shit. This is not good. Bucky starts unbuckling his belt, but stops himself after he gets it undone, finally turning and looking you straight in the eye. Right. You’re not together anymore.

            “Only rinse, don’t use soap. We don’t know what the chemical was or what might interact with it.” You say, forcing your voice to sound calmer than you feel. Bucky nods, and then shuts the door between the two of you. Shit. You knew you should’ve carried that damn flask yourself.

---

            Half an hour later, after Bucky’s finished showering and is resting on the couch per yours and Bruce’s orders, he begins to feel something. He wanted to go to bed, just sleep it off and see how he felt in the morning, but you and Bruce insisted that he stay in the living room and awake so you could monitor him for any weird signs or symptoms. You miss the first few symptoms that Bucky begins to feel. First, his heart rate began picking up. It was so miniscule at first that even he didn’t notice it, but it increased more and more until he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, even in the chilly little cabin with a near-blizzard raging outside, Bucky began to feel hot. Hot to the point of wanting to take off everything he was wearing and go lay in the snow. Now he sits on the couch, breathing a little quicker than he was earlier, with beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. It’s his increased respiratory rate that you notice first. Then, as you begin looking him over from your far away seat at the kitchen table, you see the way his cheeks are flushed and the way his dark gray t-shirt is beginning to stick to the sweat coming off of his back. Shit. Whatever it was that he was exposed to, it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

            You’re just about to ask Bucky what he’s feeling when he abruptly stands from the couch and looks right at you, his gaze wild and pupils blown.

            “Bucky—” You start, but he cuts you off in an instant.

            “I don’t know what was in that flask, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to sit out here all night.” Bucky’s trying to play it off. He has no fucking idea if he’ll actually be fine, but the newest physiological response his body is having to the chemical isn’t one he wants you to become aware of. He’s aroused. His cock is harder than it’s ever been, and he’d rather sleep outside on the icy road and get run over by Santa’s fucking sleigh then stay this close to you. He worries he won’t be able to control himself if he has to look at you one more time tonight, if he even hears another breath leave your lips, he’ll be done for.  

            “Bucky, tell me what you’re feeling.” You say softly, pushing your chair away from the table and standing, but not daring to move any closer to where he stands in the living room. He scrunches his eyes closed and presses his vibranium hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to cool the skin there.

            “Y/n, I’m going to bed.” He sounds so frustrated. It’s a tone of voice you actually recognize. This is how he used to sound when you’d tease him at the worst times, when you were somewhere that restricted him from being able to touch you, to fuck you.

            “Is it what I think it is?” You ask, your voice impossibly quieter than before. Bucky’s eyes snap open now and he studies you. Looking at you makes his dick throb and his balls feel so fucking full and heavy. He closes his eyes again as quickly as he opened them and then, you’re sure. It was a fucking sex pollen.

            You don’t dare make a move to stop Bucky when he hurries down the hall and locks himself in his bedroom. You stand frozen in the kitchen for the next two minutes, trying to figure out what the hell you should be doing in a situation like this. You end up doing what you do best: researching. You sit yourself right back down at the table and open your laptop, quickly accessing the online archive of SHIELD research files. You type in every word you can possibly think of to find what you need. Luckily, the first article that pops up is exactly what you needed.

            You skim through it at lightning speed, your eyes picking up on the important details. Heightened senses, increases sexual drive ten-fold, may result in permanent disability or death if state of intense arousal is not rectified. Shit, this is bad. You’re wondering how the hell one is supposed to rectify the intense arousal when your eyes land on the most key piece of information in the entire article. Human trials have revealed that allowed the specimen to engage in sexual intercourse is the only successful way to return to a normotensive physiological state.

            You have to fuck. You have to convince him to have sex with you. You have to convince the man who broke up with you three months ago to have sex with you. You’ve suddenly decided that you fucking hate your job.

            However, you’re not going to sit around while Bucky becomes permanently disabled or lets himself die of exposure to a damn HYDRA sex pollen. So, you slam your laptop shut and march right down the hall. You tap your knuckles against his bedroom door three times, until you hear the bed creak slightly, so you at least know he’s alive. He doesn’t make a single move to answer the door. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that it’ll probably never spring back into shape. His sense of hearing is heightened so much that he can hear every breath you take. He thinks he can even hear the sound of your eyelashes fluttering as you blink.

            “Bucky, I did some research.” God, just the sound of your voice might be enough to make him cum in his sweats. Bucky bites his bottom lip and looks down at where his erection is fighting to escape the confines of his sweats. “If this is a sex pollen, which I think we both know it is, it can kill you. The only way to fix this is to…” Your voice trails off, but you don’t have to finish your sentence for Bucky to know what the solution is here. But he won’t ask that of you. He refuses to ask you to sleep with him. He knows he broke your heart three months ago, and he’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he used you for relief now. So, he stays silent. “We could…”

            You can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. Why is it so hard for you to say we could fuck. Oh, right. Because you’ve missed the way he fucks for months. Because you know that if he wasn’t under the influence of this chemical right now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be turned on around you. You’d happily have sex with him right now, but he’d only be doing it because he has to do it to survive.

            “I know I’m probably the last person that you’d want to be offering this, but I’m offering. I don’t want you to sit in there and die.” You say softly, your voice cracking a little bit on the final word. The last person he’d want to be offering this? Fuck, you have no idea how he really feels, do you? Bucky screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to throw the door open and tell you how much he fucking loves you, how much he’s missed you. It’s why he broke up with you in the first place. What if something happened one day that turned him right back into the Winter Soldier? What if he ended up on ice again and by the time he came out of cryo, you were dead and gone? He had to break up with you, because he felt like his future was always too unclear to promise it to someone.

            “I’m here, Bucky, if you need me.” You whisper, with your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the door. He can tell that you’re hurting for him. It’s why, against his rational mind, he finds himself crossing the room and tugging the door open. When he sees you standing there in the light of the hallway, he can hear that little Christmas tune that you love so much playing in his head. Fuck it.

            You’ve barely had a second to realize that Bucky’s just opened the door for you before you feel his hand fist in your hair and he yanks you forward against his chest. His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. Bucky sucks your bottom lip between his and wastes no time in using his hold on your hair to tilt your head to the side and slide his tongue into your mouth. You act on muscle memory, kissing him the same way you used to every single day. You let his tongue dance around your mouth, but when he begins to pull back you suck on it lightly, earning a groan from him. He tastes just like you remember, and suddenly you want him so badly that for all you know you could have some sex pollen coursing through your veins.

            “The last person I’d want to be offering this?” Bucky rasps against your lips, briefly looking into your eyes as he repeats your words in question. “You’re the only person I’d want to be offering this.” He pulls on your hair again, tilting your head further to the side and sucking on the skin right below your ear. Your eyes close as you try to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that as perfect as this might feel right now, it won’t last.

            It takes mere seconds for Bucky to pull you into his room and practically throw you onto his bed. When he crawls over you a second later, it’s like he’s suddenly realized you both still have your clothes on. He stands back up beside the bed and strips quickly, exposing every bit of his fucking heavenly body to you. You don’t even try to choke back the whimper that leaves your lips. Bucky freezes when he hears it. He’s heard it before. He’s heard it in his dreams, ever since you broke up. It’s sort of funny. He never had dreams before, only nightmares. Until he broke up with you, and then he started having dreams about you every night. They’ve replaced nearly every nightmare. Instead of HYDRA being the reason he’s up at night, it’s all you.

            You start shimmying out of your pants right there on the bed as you look at Bucky, too impatient to stand up and take everything off like he did. He strokes his cock slowly in one hand, but every time his palm glides over the tip he makes a face like he’s in pain. You know from your brief research that touching himself won’t give him an ounce of relief, it’ll only make things worse. So, once you have your pants off, you reach up and grab his wrist, stopping his stroking, and pulling him closer to the bed. He gets the hint and positions himself on top of you again, spreading your legs apart with his knee before settling between them.

            “I’ve missed you.” Bucky coos against the side of your neck, right as you feel the head of his cock brushing against your clit through your already soaked panties. He didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t want to make the break up any harder for you, but fuck. He’s missed having you under him like this, though in the past you never kept your panties and shirt on when you were under him.

            “I’ve been right here.” You respond quietly, letting your hands coast down his sides until you feel the way his back muscles are rigid underneath your palms. He’s restraining himself. “Bucky, you don’t have to hold back.” He sighs deeply and grinds his cock against you, hard. It draws a moan from your lips that’s so needy, Bucky can’t wait any longer. He knows he’s only waited a minute at this point, but he just can’t anymore. He reaches down between the two of you and snags a finger in your panties, deftly pulling them to the side and guiding his cock straight into you without warning. The cry that escapes you isn’t one of pain or surprise, it’s one of pure lust. It might’ve been three months since the last time you had sex, but your body accepts his cock like it never left. There’s no pain, there’s only pleasure as he starts fucking into you slowly. He builds the pace up in mere seconds, speeding up more and more until he’s fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard is snapping against the wall and scratching the paint.

            “God, you’re still so fucking tight for me.” He groans, burying himself balls deep inside you. He stays still for a moment, letting your pussy grip his cock like a vice.

            “It’s still yours.” You whisper the words against his jawline. When his eyes snap open and stare straight into yours, you know you probably shouldn’t have said it. His pupils are already overly dilated, but they expand a little more as possessiveness flares in his chest. He always loved when you let him know who your pussy belonged to. He fucking loved it.

            Wait. The realization hits you both at the same time. He isn’t wearing a condom. As he looks into your eyes, his face falls and your eyes widen. He never once fucked you without a condom on. It was part of his whole no-long-term-commitment thing. He didn’t want to risk an unintentional pregnancy, so he never let himself fuck you raw. When he starts to pull out, you’re quick to wrap your legs around him and lock him in place.

            “Don’t.” You plead. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. Bucky bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying to find a single rational thought in his mind. He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he should pull out and find a fucking condom. But will he?

             The answer is no. He uses what little space you give him between your legs to start thrusting into you again, slower this time, but still every bit as deep as before.

            “If you don’t let me pull out…” He starts, but you pull his face down to yours and silence him with a kiss. After a few seconds, he picks up his pace and begins fucking you relentlessly once again, further ruining the paintjob on the bedroom wall behind the headboard.

            “I always wanted you to fuck me like this.” You sigh against his lips. You feel Bucky’s entire body tense up as he nears his release, your words egging him on.

            “Oh, baby, I always wanted to fuck you like this.” He admits, snapping his hips into yours and getting you that much closer to the edge. As your orgasm threatens to tear through you, something weighs heavy on Bucky’s mind. He wants to cum inside you. He loves you but he’s always told himself he can’t have you, because his future is so unclear, he can’t make promises to you and possibly break them. But…he’s a good guy. If he were to knock you up, he’d do the right thing. The traditional thing. He’d marry you and take such good care of you, of the little family you’d have together. Maybe that’s what he should do. He thinks that maybe if he gets you pregnant right now, it would force him to give you his future, no matter how much it scares him. He’d be so much more concerned with doing the right thing in the present, rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. “Let me cum inside you.”

            “You can, Bucky. You can cum inside me.” You moan out, locking your ankles together behind him and pulling him harder against you. He groans and presses another kiss to your lips, but a gentler one this time.

            “You’ll have a baby for me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, no, he’s telling you what you’ll do. “You’ll let me get you pregnant, and then you’ll be mine.”

            “Fuck…” The curse falls from your lips as bliss surges through you. You can’t even find the words to say what you want to say, which is fuck yes. So, you lay there submissively, with your legs wrapped around him as he fucks every drop of cum that he has into you. Then, you catch your breath while he pulls his cock out of you and slides your panties back over your sore cunt. You even let him pile the pillows beneath your hips and legs, elevating your pelvis to make sure his cum won’t drip back out of you.

            Fuck. He really wants to make sure you’re pregnant after this.

TAG LIST (if your user has a line through it, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):

@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @crist1216  @twlkdead

[vanteguccir]

All Too Well | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

Warning: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @sturnsjtop

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

[elisespage]

in which your constant nagging for a cat finally makes jude give in.

+

“but jude…” you whined, trailing off to try and see if his usual reaction has changed from his annoyed face to his ‘i’m giving in’ one.

a deep sigh left his lips as he looked up from his phone, being met with your puppy dog eyes. god he’d love to just say yes and give in. but a cat wouldn’t be such a good idea right now.

the pair of you had only moved into your madrid apartment a couple of weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure pets were allowed.

every night, jude would listen to your rambling about cats and how independent they were. countless videos were being sent to him of cats doing funny things and he nearly did give in when you shown him a litter of kittens that were being given away.

“how many times, y/n? no cats.”

he tried to sound stern but he let a little out when you slumped back into the bed, a frown on your face. “but did you know that seventy percent of a cats life is just sleeping? that means hardly any work.”

he turned his phone off and the bedside light, getting under the covers with you. “thanks for the information y/n, but i’m still saying no.”

“you’re no fun,” you huffed, turning around to face the opposite way. jude wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your neck a couple of times. he hated it when you were mad at him.

it wasn’t like you were mad at him. you were mad at the fact you couldn’t get a cat, and he was a big part in why you couldn’t. maybe you were.

“come on. listen, if you give me a kiss maybe i can ask the building manager-”

jude was cut off by your abrupt movement, your lips meeting his and arms wrapping tightly around him. “have i ever told you that i love you?”

“several times a day.”

+

when your alarm went off to wake up for work, jude was nowhere to be found. you just assumed that he had gone to training early so you went to work like everything was normal, the conversation from last night being pushed to the back of your mind.

after a long day of work the only thing on your mind was relaxing in the bath with a glass of wine. but that idea was also pushed to the back of your mind when you opened the front door.

jude stood in the middle of the living room, a box at his feet and a confused look on etched all over him.

“whats up, buttercup?” you asked, dropping your keys into the bowl and joining his side to look st the various boxes at his feet.

“okay, you can’t freak out. well you can, but you can’t scream.”

now your confusion was evident and you were starting to think the worst until the sound of small feet were heard. you looked down and saw the most gorgeous tabby cat staring back up at you and you gasped.

“you didn’t!” you screeched, picking the cat up and kissing it all over. it licked your face and then wriggled so you put it down. “oh my god, jude!”

you figured all the boxes were cat supplies and your boyfriend kneeled on the ground, opening the biggest box which turned out to be a cat scratching post. “i thought maybe you’d like to help me. i can’t even understand the stupid instructions.”

the pair of you spent the next hour sorting out the food bowls, the scratching post and even all the little toys jude had bought for her.

“what are we going to call her?” you wondered later when you were snuggled up on the couch, the cat lay on your lap with her arms stretched and resting on your chest.

he paused the movie and grabbed the laptop, googling cat names. “peach? coco? muffin?”

“i kind of like coco. but that’s too girly,” you sighed, staring down at the cat with ideas swirling in your mind. “how about friday?”

you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed at the unusual name that jude had come up with. “why friday?”

“because it’s friday. also, we met on a friday. and we had our first date on fridays. and we also got this place on a friday.”

fridays seemed to always pop up in your life, always at important times as well. so friday seemed to work well.

“friday. i love it,” you giggled, pecking jude on the lips. “i love you too.”

[lucyandalexiafan]

I'm scared | Alexia Putellas x Reader | part 2

summary: first time that Alexia and reader talk about sex (specifically: masturbation) after the walk.

warnings: angst, allusion to past sexual abuses. really light smut moment (r comes home early and sees Alexia have orgasm using a vibrator).

words: 3k

Part 1

When you had spoken to Alexia about your past, about those experiences, you hadn't expected her to be so understanding and engaged in helping you.

Even though you knew she was a sweet person, kind, and in some way you knew she loved you, or was starting to develop strong feelings for you, up until that day you had believed she wouldn't stay with you once she found out what had happened to you.

Alexia is beautiful, charming, loved by hundreds of thousands of people; she's the captain of Spain and Barcelona, which means she's surrounded by beautiful women, a lot of them probably much more predisposed to have sex with her and much less anxious about it. She's famous, so not only fans and other footballers would want something with her, but also other celebrities, like models or actresses or singers.

Alexia doesn't just play football, she's also a football activist, a model and she works with some brands, which means she works in contexts that allow her to meet many (beautiful) women.

All these things had made it difficult for you to think that she would stay after that walk.

She took you home once you had returned to the car because the next day she had to go to Madrid for work with Nike. Before getting out of the car, you had kissed her and, thinking it was the last time, you had tried to imprint the image of Alexia so close to your face in your memory. You thought you wouldn't see her again and that she wouldn't contact you anymore, that she would ghost you or break up with you by message.

You had spent that night sleepless, tears flowing heavily from your eyes and nausea that had forced you to sit on the bathroom floor for a few hours, the retching had painfully contracted your body several times during those hours. Even though you hated yourself every time you did it, you kept checking your phone hoping to see a notification from her, a message, a post sent on Instagram or TikTok, and the more time passed, the more you received no news from her, the more nausea and the tears increased, the more you believed you had lost her forever.

Yet, the next day, the sound of the doorbell had woken you up. You had struggled to get out of bed, the headache was killing you and your back seemed to be broken in two by the pain, the sweat covering your forehead was a symptom of yet another nightmare that had invaded your sleep. 

You looked at the video intercom and saw a delivery man. "Yes, who's there?" you had asked, your voice hoarse, ruined by crying.

"Hello, I'm from Bakery Adele, I was told I have to deliver this order to this address" the delivery guy had replied, his voice annoyingly shrill, before asking for confirmation of identity.

You had told him he could leave it at the concierge and that you would come down later, but he had persuaded you by saying there was a piping hot double espresso cappuccino and a freshly baked cream-filled brioche waiting for you.

You had put on a jacket that was hanging on the coat rack, a jacket of Alexia, and had gone down. The delivery guy handed you the breakfast, a little note attached to the package, and then said goodbye.

Bakery Adele doesn't do deliveries, never.

Once you had entered the house, you had opened the note, and tears had returned when you had read it.

"I thought of ordering your favorite breakfast from your bakery. Whenever you feel like it, if you want, write to me or call me, I'm always here. I miss you, but I'll wait for you to feel ready to talk to me. Alexia <3"

Tears, tears, and more tears.

You had bitten your lip as you grabbed your phone to video call her. You didn't care about the condition of your face or your hair at that moment, you only cared about seeing if it was true, if she was sincere. You had spent the whole night thinking she hadn't written to you because she didn't want to talk to you anymore, only to find out she was waiting for you?

"Amor," her voice, her sweet voice, invaded the deafening silence of your home.

"Ale-" you had replied trying to articulate a sentence, but inevitably ending up crying.

"What's wrong, amor? Are you okay?" she was worried, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted.

"I thought you didn't want me anymore and now the breakfast has arrived and I don't understand and-" You start speaking quickly, thoughts overlapping in your mind one after another, as you try to express yourself, to tell her how confused you feel right now.

"Take a breath, amor breath with me. Did you think I wouldn't call you? - you shook your head - Amor, I told you I'm in love with you, why would I leave you?"

You hadn't talked much, actually, because she was about to enter the store and there was a lot of confusion, but she had called you back that evening.

And the day after, and the day after that, until she had shown up at your house with takeout Chinese food.

A couple of days after she returned, you had asked if you could talk, if you could talk about what had happened. You knew that the best idea would have been to go to her place, a place from which it would have been easy to run away from her if things didn't go as you hoped, and not to your place, where Alexia could have stayed even against your will; but the emotional comfort you felt being in your own home was crucial to be able to talk to her, to face the situation.

You were at your home, on the couch: you were sitting cross-legged, your hands holding hers, and you had told her that you understood if this thing was bigger than her, if she didn't want to wait for some time to do something sexual, but you had also told her that a part of you would have wanted her to stay because you wanted to face this thing with her, that you truly wanted to face it.

Alexia, hesitant, had told you, after a while of talking, that she thought it was appropriate for you to start a therapy process, maybe also to go to therapy together, because only then could you fully face the trauma. She also made sure to tell you that if you couldn't afford it continuously over time or with the right frequency, she would help you financially because, yes, facing it, but with the right psychologist. Shyly, she had told you that she had done a couple of searches on the best psychologists in Barcelona for this type of trauma and had found one really good, and that she would also be available to do couple therapy.

You had told her you would think about it and a few days later you had contacted one of the psychologists on her list.

The initial doubts about her seriousness in being faithful to you and not seeking anyone else for sexual satisfaction surfaced when she left for a National Team camp, and they exploded when you thought she was cheating on you with Jenni. The endless social media edits you continued to see fueled the doubt that perhaps, while genuinely attempting to complete the therapeutic journey, she was seeking to fulfill her sexual desire with someone else in secret.

At the third couple's therapy session after that camp, you addressed the issue. You had resignedly told her that you wanted to know if she was with other women, that you would understand but needed to know. She was shocked. She had told you multiple times that she only wanted you, that she would wait for you, that she didn't want anyone else, that she didn't want Jenni.

You had discussed it several times in therapy over the next two weeks, and even outside of therapy, but Alexia always said the same thing: I will wait for you, I want you.

The doubts had more or less disappeared when few weeks later you caught her having an orgasm with a vibrator while she thought you were still out. You were on holiday in the Canary Islands, you had gone out to do some shopping and go to an open-air market while she was sleeping, and you had left her a message saying you wouldn't be back in two hours; too bad the open-air market was on Thursday, not Tuesday, so you had returned after a little over half an hour. 

As soon as you entered the house, you heard moans and silently approached the bedroom, only to see her in the middle of the bed, her hand between her legs and a buzzing sound in the background accompanying her moans. 

You froze in place, not knowing what to do, or what to say. 

You didn't even know she had a vibrator. You hadn't really thought about it, actually.

You hadn't even had time to think about how to react because shortly after she reached the peak of pleasure, so you quickly moved towards the door, opened and closed it more loudly, pretending you had just entered. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you thought it would be easy to pretend you hadn't seen her, but you were wrong, especially for two reasons: seeing her climax had made you incredibly horny and you couldn't remove the image of her having an orgasm from your mind, so you couldn't even look her in the eyes.

Alexia had sensed something was wrong and asked you if everything was okay at dinner, when she asked if she had done something wrong. You almost choked on the water you were drinking, your cheeks suddenly burning, as you tried to come up with some excuses, only to give in.

"Amor, I don't know how to say it - you lowered your gaze, embarrassed to admit it, afraid she would get angry - I... today I came home earlier than you think and I-I saw you-"

"Fuck - Alexia exclaimed bluntly - Amor, I'm sorry, I... it shouldn't have happened, I thought you'd be back later," her tone suddenly guilty, as if masturbating were a fault.

"Are you sorry? - you asked, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded, her face red with embarrassment - But... why?"

Her expression became confused. "I-you weren't supposed to see me, I don't want you to think-"

"Since when you do it?" you asked, then realized the stupidity of the question when the older woman tilted her head to the side; you tried to change the subject, but she asked you to talk about it, to ask her, because it was important for her that you talked about it.

"Do you want to know if I've been doing it since we started dating or when I started doing it in general?" her tone was so calm, so relaxed, that you trusted her, trusted that she really just wanted to talk about it.

That was the first time you had talked so specifically about your sexual life, at least hers. 

She had told you she lost her virginity to a girl when she was fifteen, started using sex toys at sixteen, that throughout her relationship with Jenni they had been an integral part of the relationship, but she started using them less when she broke up with her because at that point she was having a lot of casual sex.

"I had sex with other women before I met you, both occasional and steady partners, so I didn't really need to use them to have an orgasm. Then we met, the relationship became serious and we started dating, so I stopped seeing other people, and when I realized we wouldn't have sex, I started using them more often. Since you told me about your past, I've started using them frequently again."

You bit your lip as you listened to her, it was evident that she was hesitant, choosing her words carefully, but at the same time she was so sure, so calm. The calmness with which she spoke about it almost gave you comfort, almost reassured you that she wasn't lying, that what she was saying was true.

"You can ask me anything, amor, none question is stupid."

"Do you do it because we don't have sex?"

She nodded hesitantly. "How does this make you feel? - you raised your eyebrows, confused - I don't want this thing to make you feel bad."

"It makes sense that you do it - you replied, your tone devoid of negative emotions - We don't have sex and you need to... have an orgasm. Why didn't you tell me?"

She took a sip of water in an attempt to stall. "I... I thought you would take it badly, that you would feel guilty or something, and I didn't want that. I told you I want to wait for you, but I was afraid that if I told you you would think that I necessarily need someone to have sex with or for me to tell you to speed things up - she sighed - But as you saw, my sex toys give me great orgasms and I could go on just with them for years" she continued, trying to relax the tension that had been created with her answer.

You chuckled with her, even though you were sorry she did it in secret, that she did it only when you weren't there, that she was afraid you would take it badly.

It was her first orgasm you had seen, and you had never really thought about the fact that she could be satisfied in other ways than having sex with other people.

"I had never thought that you would seek orgasms in other ways than sex - you simply stated - It's a stupid thing, sorry."

"It's not, actually. We've never talked about this, about maybe masturbating or actually wanting to have sex, regardless of whether we do it or not - the reflective tone, the calm voice - For example, when I feel the need to have an orgasm, use a vibrator because the orgasms I have using it are generally more satisfying than when I just use my fingers; but when I want to have sex, as well as an orgasm, I use my fingers because they feel closer to what I could have having sex with you."

You widened your eyes at the revelation, at how calmly she said it. You knew it was normal for her to be calm, you were glad she talked about it freely, but you didn't expect her to be so sincere.

"I've said too much, sorry. Please forget it," she continued, her voice concerned, her gaze now on the plate, her hands quickly grabbing the fork and knife to put them on the plate.

"No! - you replied, scaring her - Sorry, I don't know how to talk about it, but I'd like to, I like that we talk about it."

There was a pause, Alexia was simply smiling at you, perhaps surprised that you were actually having this conversation, perhaps because she didn't know what to say.

"I masturbate thinking about you," you said, a statement.

The woman in front of you widened her eyes, a choked moan escaped her mouth, the dismay obvious.

"When I do it I-I think about the two of us having sex or-or... doing sexual things - you lowered your gaze, a sense of humiliation invading your body when she said nothing - Please don't be mad at me"

You close your eyes, scared at the idea that she might start yelling that it's disrespectful, that it's wrong for you to do it, or, worse, that she might get up to hurt you, or physically punish you for it.

"Get mad? Why should I get mad? - her voice confused - It's normal for you to masturbate, to seek orgasm."

"Even if it's not with you?" she nodded "It's just that we don't have sex but I masturbate and... doesn't it make you mad?"

Your voice sounded more frightened than you wanted, but it was true that you feared she would get angry. You didn't want to have sex with her, you were afraid to have sex with her, but you touched yourself thinking of her; how could she take it?

"I'm glad you can touch yourself, that at least that part of your sexuality hasn't been broken," she moved her hands towards yours, squeezing them between hers "There's nothing wrong, amor, I'd be a selfish insecure person to think otherwise."

You bit your lip as you looked at her, admiring her. How could she always know what to say, always say the right thing?

"So, did you like to watch me while I touch myself?" you coughed embarrassed, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it.

You had enjoyed watching her come, even though it was by chance and for a short time, even though it was an unexpected thing that shouldn't have happened. The image of her coming, of her orgasm, was imprinted in your mind.

"I- you were just so beautiful when you came. I don't know how to say it, I feel stupid, and- it was like, I don't know - you sighed frustrated - it's just that I wish it were me making you come like that, not a vibrator."

"There's time, amor," she told you.

She was right, there was time, but you wanted to be the one instead of that vibrator.

I'm sorry it took me so long to post this, a few bad things happened and I didn't have the mind to write. this is a text that I wrote about two weeks ago but I only translated it last night; I'm not 100/100 satisfied, but I wanted to introduce a moment of discussion about sex before anything sexual could happen. I dealt with the topic of insecurity and jealousy in a very light way (perhaps superficially) but it seemed like the only way to introduce the moment on holiday. the hardest part for me, and what makes me a little dissatisfied, was trying to figure out whether what I wrote about accidentally seeing Alexia have an orgasm was itself a violation of consent, or could be construed as an accident (which it actually is); I chose to interpret it as an accident that Alexia knew could happen and to avoid the parties considering it a violation of consent. If this seems wrong to you, or will trigger a lot of people, I think I'll revisit this chapter. as usual, thanks for reading what I wrote :)

[allywthsr]

LEO LECLERC | (c.leclerc)

summary: you and Charles get a dog

wordcount: 1.8k words

pairing: charlesleclerc x fem!reader

warnings: dogs

notes: how cute is Leo? My goodness.

You and Charles had been together for quite a while now, while he was busy racing all over the world, you were staying at home and working, sometimes you would join him for a race but most of the time, you couldn’t just get off work. Even with meeting your friends and being busy with your own work, you still felt lonely, especially at night. You never knew what could happen, due to having your address leaked by a few fans, you had people ringing the doorbell at two am. Sometimes friends slept over, but you needed someone to cuddle with when Charles was gone.

You‘ve always thought about having a dog, and all the cute puppies on your Instagram page had you swooning, just like Charles, he had always kept a close eye on your phone whenever you went down a rabbit hole of looking at cute dogs, seeing what kind of dogs you loved and spent hours of watching, he secretly always watched videos as well, but he also knew that a dog meant more work than it seemed in the videos.

It wasn’t like you two were seriously talking about getting a dog, sometimes the topic would randomly occur and you fantasized about the life with a dog, but you weren’t even sure if Charles would be a hundred percent okay with a little companion.

Until one Thursday evening, it was an off week for Charles and you were cuddling on the couch, watching some Netflix, when his phone rang. Joris was calling and Charles left the living room, you heard him mumble something in French, but you couldn’t hear him clear enough to fully hear what he was saying. Shortly after he came back and sat down again, you looked at him, he normally never left the room when he received a call.

“Joris called to tell me something.”

That made you sit up, nudging him slightly to talk more.

“I know how lonely you felt these last few weeks when I’m not around. And I know that you love dogs, so I aske-”

“You got us a dog?!”, you screeched in his ear, to which he shifted a little more far away, so he could keep his hearing ability.

“Not yet, Joris knows someone whose dog accidentally got pregnant and wants to sell some puppies, I thought we could go there tomorrow and see if any puppies like us?”

With tears in your eyes, you nodded and hugged him tightly, this was your dream, a little someone to take care of, a new best friend.

During the night you had trouble falling asleep, too excited to look at the dogs, so when the clock hit 7 am, you got up and took a shower, after you prepared some breakfast and woke Charles up, the faster you could get there, the better.

You both were nervous during breakfast, this was a big decision, a dog was a responsibility for several years, but you knew he or she would have the best life in your home, and your lives would also get better. There would always be a little cuddle buddy, someone to play with, and someone who needs your attention twenty-four-seven.

Joris didn’t say what breed it would be, only that the pregnancy wasn’t planned, but the puppies were adorable, and you didn’t doubt that for one second, every puppy was a cute creature.

The drive was rather short, only thirty minutes until you reached the family home, when you rang the doorbell, you could already hear dogs barking, and when the door opened and an older lady smiled at you, you could hear little puppies crying. You introduced yourself to the woman, whose name was Margarete, and she welcomed you into her home. After she offered you a coffee, she led you into the room where a big playpen was standing, and five little light brown puppies were sleeping. The little golden retriever dachshund mixes had the cutest little floppy ears and the softest-looking fur you had ever seen.

You quietly gasped after seeing these angels, and the first one lifted his head, after hearing a strange noise, and got excited when he saw you and Charles, waking his siblings in the process. After the puppies were awake and barking at you, you couldn’t wait anymore and carefully got in the pen, immediately you had four dogs crawling all over you, and the fifth one was sitting in the corner, crying for his mother, he was smaller than his siblings but in perfect health. Margaret told you she was currently training them to be separated from their mother, and so they could be crying, but when Charles joined you in the pen, the little fella walked over to him and sniffed at his knee, before getting up on Charles leg and finding a comfortable spot to sleep, after all, he was a small puppy.

From that moment, you knew this puppy had your heart, seeing how comfortable he was with Charles, and how he was crying for his mama a second ago, these two had a special connection.

Charles also fell in love with the little boy, he picked him up carefully and the puppy started to lick his face, which Charles commented with a chuckle. You two looked at each other and you knew what he was thinking, you found your little love. Charles gave you the fella and he also started sniffing you, giving you small licks on your chin, when you held him close to your chest.

Margaret came in and saw you cuddling with the dog, she knew you made a decision when you looked at her, “That’s Leo, you can change his name if you want to, but my grandson named him that way.”

Leo fit him perfectly, Leo Leclerc.

Charles and you took your time to cuddle some more, really making sure Leo liked you and wasn’t scared.

After doing all the paperwork with Margaret and learning about the needs that a little puppy had, you two left the house and went straight to the pet store, you still had to wait two weeks until you could pick him up, but you two were way too excited to not go and shop for Leo.

The cart was almost full when you waited in the queue to pay, food, toys, leashes, beds, and more stuff waiting to be used by Leo.

The next two weeks were going by slower than you’d hoped. Every day you chatted with Margarete and she sent you pictures and updates from Leo, the little puppy was doing great and got his last few shots at the vet, now he was ready to come home to you.

It was a Saturday when you picked him up, Leo got excited when you had him in your arms, licking everything he could reach, while Charles paid for Leo, and signed the last papers. Now he was officially yours, your own little puppy, to cherish and love.

On the way home you spilled some tears, while the little angel was sleeping on your lap, this was a dream come true. Now you wouldn’t be as lonely anymore when Charles was gone, but you also had a little companion when you two were together.

The first few steps Leo did in his new home were wobbly, he was a little scared, so you and Charles settled down on the floor, just to make sure Leo didn’t feel lonely and had someone he could go to if he needed emotional support. But he was a brave boy, and even if his steps were slow, he still looked around the apartment, sniffing all these new smells and he already found his favorite spot, which was underneath the piano, where a furry rug was lying.

You let the little puppy sleep and started making dinner, Leo must’ve been exhausted, he left his old home and his family, and now he was with strangers in new surroundings, but he felt comfortable, or otherwise he wouldn’t be sleeping like he was now.

The evening was spent cuddling with Leo, when you and Charles were lying on the couch, watching TV, Leo tried to get up on the couch and when Charles picked him up, he settled on your belly, where he took another nap.

The first night was nerve-racking, you had read a lot of articles, so you prepared for the worst. Leo and you two went to bed at around eleven pm, the little puppy lay down in his dog bed that Charles placed in the corner of the room, and two hours after you fell asleep, you got woken up by little whines that came from Leo. You grabbed him and put on his leash, and Charles and you went outside, where Leo did his business. Charles held your hand, while he had the leash in the other hand, he looked adorable with his jumper pulled over his head.

Back at home, you laid in bed again, but before you could fall asleep, little whines came from Leo again. Charles let out a sigh, “Do you think he needs to go outside again?”
“But he did his business, maybe he misses his family? They slept cuddled together every night after all.”

So he got up, picked Leo up, and came back to bed with him, when Leo settled between you, he stopped crying and fell asleep.

The next morning started off early, Leo licked all over your face and started playing with your hair, even if you were sleep deprived, when you opened your eyes and looked at Charles with Leo, all of this was worth it. The way Leo’s tail was wagging when you filled his food bowl with the puppy food, you think you died from diabetes, but Charles wasn’t any different. You already caught him way too often when he sneaked a treat to Leo, and you only had him for a day.

You also caught Charles cuddling with Leo while he was doing sim work in his simulator at home, or while taking a nap on the couch, or how Leo followed him everywhere Charles went. He already loved his new dad. Just as much as he loved you.

The ice cream launch was when you wanted to introduce Leo to the world, the little baby was frightened by the flashing lights, but when Charles held him, he calmed down again, in general, he felt most calm when he was in Charles’ arms.

Leo loved small walks, he couldn’t walk for long, he had small legs and was exhausted easily, so you all could walk for fifteen minutes before Leo had enough and wanted to be held, that's why you and Charles were often seen holding him.

You couldn’t wait to see Leo grow up and have the time of his life, especially Charles couldn’t wait for him to join him at a race, Leo would be his emotional support dog, in these hard times at Ferrari.

[jessejaredstories]

Twisted Wish

Matthew was an average, everyday kind of guy from the suburbs. He was the 22 year old only child of happily married parents with middle class standing. He was also in his last year of college with a major in history. The only thing that helped set him apart was the fact that he was gay, but even his sexuality didn't really matter much in a big city full of twinks like him. All things considered, Matthew was a pretty ordinary guy with nothing particularly remarkable about him.

However, just because Matthew lived a normal life doesn't mean he didn't have his own set of problems. For example, he was 22 going on 23 and he was still a virgin who has never even had a real boyfriend. Sure, he had gone on plenty of first dates, but none of them ever went anywhere beyond the first date. It was the lack of romantic and sexual experience that made up Matthew's biggest insecurities. There were nights where he would stay up wondering if he would ever find Mr. Right. But what really made Matthew insecure was his roommate Dave. 

Dave was a player. He was a lady's man through and through. In the short year Matthew's known him, Dave had already gone through 3 girlfriends and was currently working on his fourth. But that was just the girls he's dated, Dave's had plenty of side chicks too. Everytime a new one popped up, Matthew already knew he was gonna get sexiled and made himself scarce without Dave asking him to. Despite how often it happened, Matthew honestly didn't mind Dave's horny habits. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Dave. If some frat bro like Dave could get laid anytime he wanted, why couldn't he? 

One Saturday night, while Matthew was by himself in the apartment, he spent the evening on his phone. He was endlessly scrolling through several social media sites while streaming some random movie for background noise. Matthew spent several hours online before finally getting tired of his phone. He began closing all the tabs, but during his clicking frenzy, he accidentally hit a pop-up ad. The pop-up took him to another website called "Reality Wizard." The ugly, gaudy colors of the website caught Matthew's interest just before he could exit out. Matthew took a moment to read the website’s welcome message. It read:

“Make a wish and the Reality Wizard will make it come true.”

From what Matthew could gather, the “Reality Wizard” seemed to be some online genie game. It seemed pretty straightforward albeit cheaply made. The little genie avatar had its arms open as if it was beckoning Matthew to make a wish. Something about its digital eyes made Matthew uncomfortable. He felt as if it was somehow looking directly at him despite it just being a static image on his phone. It was surreal to say the least. 

But instead of simply exiting out of the website, Matthew decided to play along with it. He didn’t have anything better to do after all, so why not play along and make a wish to a fake genie? Matthew laid back on his bed as he thought about what to wish for. Then after a minute of thinking, he typed in his wish.

“I wish I could get laid just as much as my straight roommate does.”

Matthew chuckled as he finished typing up his wish. While there was some actual sentiment behind it (he was a desperate virgin after all), Matthew found more humor in making the genie respond to something dirty and see what happens. He hit submit and waited. The screen reloaded after a second, but all that changed was the genie’s eyes were now closed. Matthew waited a while longer but nothing else happened. 

Once he was bored again, Matthew finally closed out of “Reality Wizard.” The night was still young when Matthew found himself alone with nothing else to do. That was when he decided to do what any other guy would do: jerk off! 

Matthew pulled down his sweats and let his soft dick flop out while he pulled up an incognito tab on his phone. He then went straight to PHub to find a good video to rub one out to. But unfortunately for Matthew, there was nothing worth clicking on on the home page. He then spent the next 10 or so minutes searching for a good video. By the time he found one, he had ended up in the MMF video category. Matthew didn’t mind a woman in his videos, he could just focus on the men after all. He hit play, skipped to the good part, and started jerking off.

Between Matthew and the trio in the video, moans and groans quickly began to fill the empty apartment as Matthew pumped away at his cock. Despite being a total bottom, Matthew still had an above average length clocking in at about 6 inches. Even though his dick never saw any fucking action, it still made jerking off fun as he used both hands to stroke himself. 

“Aww fuck yeah…” The trio had switched into a sandwich position with one of the men getting fucked while fucking the woman at the same time. Matthew was loving the man on man action. “Fuck that man ass! Make him your bitch!!”

While Matthew was jerking off, the wish he had just made to the “Reality Wizard” began to come true! But not in the way Matthew expected…

The genie’s magic began to take effect. Matthew was always a skinny twink, but the wish he made caused his body to change. His body was quickly gaining weight until Matthew had some heft to his figure. His arms and thighs filled in with the extra mass, as did his chest until he had big enough pecs to grab and squeeze. The same happened to his ass! Although he already had a nice, perky ass before the changes, Matthew now possessed the bubble butt of a gym rat. Even his cock and balls grew until he had an obscenely long and girthy member. His new dick was now 7.5 inches and hung low like a bull with how heavy his cum filled balls had become.

After the extra mass came the body hair. Matthew’s once perfectly smooth body began sprouting hair everywhere! His hair grew out until he had shoulder length curls like Tarzan. His face tingled as a full beard and mustache quickly grew in. His chest and midsection got covered with a fine layer of brown hair. Even his pit and pubic hair grew and grew until he had an unruly forest of hair in each area. By the time the transformation was finally over, Matthew had become an unrecognizable version of himself as he was now a testosterone-filled, hairy beast of a young man. 

But even though Matthew just went through a magical transformation, his mind was still focused entirely on jerking off to the video. The two men and one woman were still going hard at it in a line. The camera angles kept alternating between focusing on the two men and focusing on the woman getting fucked. Matt’s favorite was seeing the man’s cheeks getting clapped from behind. 

“Oh fuuuck I’m close..” 

Matt threw his head back against his pillow. He could feel the pressure building up in his throbbing cock as he was getting ready to shoot his load out. He picked up his stroking speed. He was getting sweaty and red in the face as he was getting closer and closer to finishing. 

Matt lifted his head again when he heard the woman begging for more. He kept his eyes focused on the video. The video had a wide shot which showed all three of them. Matt started with the two men, but as he kept stroking, he found his eyes unconsciously gravitating towards the woman. Matt wasn’t sure why he did that. He shifted his attention back to men, but found himself focusing back on the woman again within seconds. Suddenly, the woman was all Matt could focus on. Even if he tried to look away he just couldn’t! Even if he tried to imagine a hot man with a hung cock all Matt could picture was a woman with massive tits! Matt was panting at the sight of the woman’s tiddies bouncing up and down as she took a pounding. Her beautiful body was wet with sex sweat. Seeing her throw her head back as she let out a loud moan made Matthew tremble and twitch with anticipation. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to burst!

Matt let out a guttural groan as ropes of warm cum shot out of his engorged cock. His hairy chest became drenched with his spunk. Even by the time he finished shooting load after load, his dick was still twitched and throbbing with how much cum he shot out. Matt sighed with relief as he threw his arms back to cool down after such an intense jerk off session. His body hair was dripping with how drenched it was with sweat and cum. On top of that, the room now reeked of a man’s sweaty musk, but Matt didn’t care. He was satisfied and content. 

Once Matt finally caught his breath, it was time for him to clean up the sticky mess he just made. His initial instinct was to gather up all his cum with his fingers and then swallow it all, but Matt stopped when he realized how fucking gay that was. He had absolutely no interest in ever tasting cum. After all, why would a straight guy like Matt want to swallow cum? 

Matt went to the bathroom and cleaned the jizz off his body. He then went ahead and changed his bed sheets too due to dripping all over them. Once that was done, Matt stood in his bedroom. He then lifted his arm up, letting the wild bush of pit hair hang free as he took a deep sniff of himself. Matt could smell some musk, but decided it wasn’t anything some cologne couldn’t cover up. 

“Yo! Anyone home?” 

Matt’s ears perked up when he heard his roommate Dave call out. He then walked out and greeted his best bud by dabbing him up. Matt and Dave were brothers from different mothers and were known for their unbeatable bromance.

“Dave, my man! What are you doing home so early!? It’s barely midnight!”

“I know, bro, but check it, Darcy just invited me to go check out this new club downtown with her. It’s hella exclusive, you gotta come with us, Matt! I need my shotgun brother there if I’m gonna club all night!! Plus, Darcy’s got a friend. Brianna, I think you’ll like her…”

“She cute?” Matt asked with an eyebrow raised. Dave nodded. “Cup size?”

“Double D’s, AND she never wears a bra when she goes out! Trust me bro, you gotta meet her, I know for a fact y’all are perfect together!!”

Matt was convinced the moment he heard “D.” He was always a boobs over ass kinda guy after all. Matt quickly got dressed, then went out to have the best night of his life at the club with his bro Dave, ending with them tag teaming Darcy and Brianna in bed. All while Matt was completely oblivious to the fact that the Reality Wizard had granted his wish. Matt definitely got laid just like his straight roommate Dave, just like he wished, although he probably didn’t expect the online genie to twist his carelessly worded wish. Not that Matt really cared about his former self, after all, he had a girlfriend with two very big reasons why he should enjoy the new reality he wished for himself.

[diaryengene]

୨୧ Your makeup did not turn out as expected. ୨୧

Enhypen maknae line reaction.

Enhypen x reader.

𝜗𝜚．．．pairing: Jungwon!bf ; Ni-ki!bf ; Sunoo!bf x reader!gf 𝜗𝜚．．． contains: kissing, Princess treatment, attention.

=͟͟͞⋆ ࣪.⠀Yang Jungwon ( 양정원 ) ᵎᵎ ⠀

You had spent most of the afternoon watching tutorials on TikTok about how to put on makeup. A particular makeup caught your attention so you set out to do it!

“douyin makeup” - you told your boyfriend jungwon, who had barely understood what you told him. He only saw how you passed several makeup brushes over your eyes, how every time you finished something you quickly took your phone and watched the video repetitively and copied exactly everything that was shown in that video tutorial. He looked like a confused kitten looking at his owner.

Once the makeup was finished, you quickly grabbed a mirror to see the result, which you didn't like at all. Your face was very red due to excess blush, the eyeliner on your eyes looked crooked and you didn't like how your poorly painted lips looked. you tossed the mirror to the side and made a disgusted face at your makeup.

"Are you done, love?" — Jungwon spoke, appearing in the room. — "Don't look at me, I look horrible!" you said covering your face.

"what?" he asked.

He quickly walked over to you and gently removed your hands from your face so he could see you better. — "What are you saying? You look beautiful" — he smiled and approached you to see your face better.

"You lie" - you reproached, looking to the side angrily. He shook his head and smiled. —"You look beautiful, even if you think your makeup didn't turn out well, even if you take it off, you will still look beautiful to me."—he clarified and then kissed you on the tip of your nose in a tender way.

=͟͟͞⋆ ࣪. Nishimura Riki ( 西村リキ ) ᵎᵎ ⠀

You invited your boyfriend to go to the movies which he accepted. it had been a while since you had last gone out on a date somewhere since he was mostly at work, so you decided to dress up a little more than you usually do.

You had chosen a nice outfit that you planned to complement with your makeup, which, however, didn't turn out the way you wanted it to. you were frustrated and about to cry because you knew that at any moment Ni-ki would arrive to pick you up and go to the movies.

it didn't take long for the tears to appear. You had spent half an hour trying to redo your makeup but it only seemed to get worse making you even more depressed.

"y/n?"- oh, no. ni-ki was already here.- why aren't you ready? what are you doing on the floor? - Ni-ki started asking you questions that only made you cry even more. She put her jacket aside and walked over to you, getting down to your level and started wiping your tears with her hands.

"Honey, what's wrong, why are you crying?"-he asked in a concerned tone.

"m-my makeup"- you managed to say while crying into your boyfriend's hands.

"What's wrong with your makeup? You look so pretty."

"Liar! I look awful." - You reproached angrily. Ni-ki laughed a little at your state but immediately removed his smile when he saw your angry expression.- You look beautiful, love. i mean it. my girlfriend is too perfect even if her makeup looks horrible!- he spoke proudly while nodding his head. his way of talking made it seem like he was joking. but he wasn't joking, he just wanted to make you smile, which you understood.

"You're a fool"- you looked at him angrily and then smiled a little and hugged your boyfriend.

That night you both opted to stay at home and watch a movie from the couch.

=͟͟͞⋆ ࣪. kim seonwoo ( 김선우 ) ᵎᵎ ⠀

After a long day of looking at beautiful girls with their perfect makeup and perfect outfits on Pinterest and wondering why you couldn't look like that, you decided to try to look like those gorgeous girls on the internet.

Your self-esteem lately wasn't the best. You knew your boyfriend would always be there for you and love you just the way you are, but still, the thought of not being pretty enough to be with him was on your mind.

You knew Sunoo would be here in a few minutes, so you wanted to look beautiful for him. you grabbed what little makeup you had and started applying it!

as you did so, a thousand scenarios formed in your head where your boyfriend saw how beautiful you looked and complimented you on your extraordinary makeup. you felt like you could finally look pretty enough for him and that made you excited.

Although... you didn't look it. You didn't manage to look pretty, you couldn't even get your makeup right.

You ran to the bathroom and washed your face, rubbing it several times with your hands as your tears fell and you saw your reflection in the mirror. With your eyes red from crying, your lipstick and mascara smudged and your clothes wet, you certainly felt terrible.

"Princess I'm here" - shit.... Sunoo arrived. Seeing you like this in the bathroom, he ran to you and turned you around to look you in the face - "What happened honey, are you ok, did something happen to you?" he asked totally worried and agitated. - he asked totally worried and agitated.

"I'm so ugly," you said in a whisper, dropping your forehead on Sunoo's chest, who immediately wrapped his arms around you and started stroking your hair.

"My God, what are you talking about, who said you're horrible, huh, whoever told you that will deal with me!". - He said as he cradled your face in his hands.

"I..." - You whispered as your tears fell down your cheeks.

Sunoo swallowed saliva and shook his head at what you said.

"You're not horrible, don't say that. Otherwise, you would be insulting what I love most in my life and that hurts me. do you understand?". - he gently squeezed your cheeks. "now repeat after me: I'm beautiful and my boyfriend loves me very much" - she smiled and you just stared at her without saying anything. - "what are you waiting for?"

...

Sunoo literally spent the whole day hugging, kissing and caressing you. She didn't go more than five minutes without telling you how beautiful you looked and how much she loved you. Plus, he treated you to mint chocolate chip ice cream!

Sorry if there are spelling problems!!! you can place orders if you wish! ८ ◞ ◟ ⑅ ა

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Jann Mardenborough x reader

Pt.1,Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5

It's finally here," Jann shouted into the phone. There was an excited squeal from the other end. "How does it look, please tell and exaggerate." the female voice on the other phone sounded as excited as Jann himself felt.,, It's amazing Y/N, it fits right into my hands I don't regret the hours I worked." he replied with a dreamy voice. "You must let me play with that new steering wheel sometime ." "Well I don't know Y/N you ruined my score last time." Jann never let Y/N forget how the last time he let her play Gran Turismo she crashed and ruined his score several times in the game. "That was only once." said the woman irritatedly. Both of them laughed amused and warmed it Jann's heart.

All he could remember Y/N was in his life. They got to know each other thanks to the fact that their mothers had been friends for a long time and dreamed that their children would be best friends too. It didn't go smoothly at first because the first thing little Jann did was to pull Y/N on her braid and she slapped him in the face in return. It took a long time for them to reconcile, but to the joy of their mothers, they eventually became good friends. We can't even count how many nights you've spent playing video games, eating junk food, and laughing uncontrollably. But then came a difficult period for Jann. He dropped out of school to pursue his dream of racing but his father wasn't too keen. So when the competition for the best gran turismo player came out and the winner would have the chance to compete professionally, it was clear to you that Jann had to sign up. He gave in to your insistence and it finally paid off. You've never been happier together, you celebrated. But then came the sad part of saying goodbye. You gave each other a last hug and a promise to call each other. You said that you are proud that he goes headlong into it like this and that you are happy when he is following his dream. You stayed with him the longest. You looked into each other's eyes and started thinking about how you will miss him, how he won't always be there to support you. As if you were caught in the moment, you started to get closer to each other, but suddenly someone next to you shouted and that woke you up from the magical moment. You both just cleared your throat. Jann said goodbye and left. And all you had left were tears in your eyes.

So what do you think? I plan to do next part if you want.

I am also open to any requeste.

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Enough For You

Based on this ask :)

Summary: Harry kisses EmRata in Tokyo and Y/N his girlfriend finds out on Twitter

Warnings: angst, sadness, insecurities

Word Count: ~ 2k

“Hi my love. Just calling to say I miss you and I love you more than anything. I know it’s super early for you so listen to this when you wake up and know that I’m thinking of you! Call me when you’re up.” 

Y/N smiles tiredly as the sound of Harry’s low tone rumbles through the speakers. She loved the little messages he left for her to listen to when she wakes, since she’d been missing him so much on tour. They’d been together for almost two years but Y/N still wasn’t quite used to all the time they spent away from each other. Harry was constantly touring and while she tried to join him as often as she could, she had a full time job that she loved and she couldn’t just up and leave. Harry wasn’t due to come back for another 3 weeks but Glenne had let it slip that he had a few days off in Tokyo and Y/N decided to surprise him. She was flying out on a red-eye tomorrow evening and meeting him in the city. 

She wasn’t really sure how she had gotten so lucky with Harry. They hardly ever fought, he’s kind and attentive and he really loved her. She knew he did and he made sure she knew it. They had been nervous being seen together in public because Y/N enjoyed her privacy and she had seen the internet tear apart Harry’s previous girlfriends. But, Harry’s fans had surprised her and been nothing but supportive of their relationship. Y/N even followed a few update accounts on instagram, thinking how sweet it was that they cared so much. Harry liked to joke that they were bigger fans of her than they were of him. 

Jeff however, was not Y/N’s biggest fan. He had severely advised Harry against making things public with Y/N saying that “his image needed someone well known.” That comment had caused a rift between the two men as Harry fiercely and loudly defended his love for Y/N. Jeff had since apologised but things had been slightly tense ever since. Y/N tried not to let it get to her. She knew that it wasn’t strictly personal and he just wanted the best for his client. 

“Hi my love. Daily update for you. I’m about to go on for the last show in Tokyo. I adore it here, wish you could be here with me. We’re heading out for some drinks with the crew after the show tonight. I think Jeff is bringing some people for press and all that. No shows for a few days so at least I can let loose tonight. Mostly a boring update today but I miss you! Talk soon sunshine.”

Y/N blinks the sleep from her eyes as she listens to Harry’s message, before properly looking at her phone. He would have sent that around 7 hours ago and her brow furrows slightly at the plethora of notifications on her phone. A quick glance at her notification screen shows a lot of missed calls, texts and twitter mentions. Y/N’s been with Harry long enough to know that the fastest way for her to get information is on Twitter. 

So she clicks on the notification. Then she clicks on the link. And she immediately regrets it as her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach. Because it’s a video of Harry and a woman she doesn’t immediately recognise because all she can really focus on is the way his body is moulded against hers and the way their lips are attached and the way the video is over a minute long. 

Harry and EmRata in Tokyo last night?!? Did he break up with Y/N??? You guys WHAT IS GOING ON?

Did you guys see the video?

Guys what the fuck?! I didn’t even know they broke up…

Y/N and Harry were together a few weeks ago? Did Harry cheat on her? He looks pretty drunk in the clip

#HarryStylesEmRata

#HarryY/NBreakUp

It’s tweet after tweet after tweet and Y/N sits upright on their bed, silent and numb for a moment. Then she promptly rushes to the bathroom and throws up. 

She calls in sick from work and takes her time in the shower, turning up the heat and letting the water soothe her. It isn’t until after she’s changed and catches sight of her screen lighting up again and again that she cries. Sinks to the floor with a gut wrenching sob, clutching her chest as though her heart is actually going to break. Because she knows it’s him. And he’ll tell her he’s sorry. He’ll tell her he loves her and he was drunk and it meant nothing. But all Y/N can think to herself is “Why wasn’t I enough?”

Y/N isn’t prepared for it her to physically be in pain but she is. The tears flow down her cheeks and it’s almost never-ending as she finally has the courage to pick up her phone and read through her notifications. Some texts are from friends checking she’s alright, wondering if they broke up, one is from Gemma and about 40 are from Harry. He’s called her about 30 times, sent multiple text messages and left voicemails. 

She opens Gemma’s text first, because it’s all she can really bare at the moment. The two women were close and Gemma knew just how much Y/N loved her brother. 

(8:19am) Gem: I’m going to fucking kill him. Y/N I am so sorry for my idiot brother. Are you ok? Shall I come over?

(9:07am) Y/N: No don’t come over. I’ll be ok. 

(9:08am) Gem: Did you talk to him? Please tell me you’re going to work it out. 

Y/N bites her lip as she stares at Gemma’s message. She types and erases before finally sending something in response.

(9:12am) Y/N: We haven’t spoken. He’s called though. And, I don’t know if we can Gemma.

Y/N decides she can’t bring herself to listen to Harry’s voicemails so she opens his texts first.

(5:06am) H: Y/N I need to talk to you about what happened when I went out last night. You’re probably asleep but I’ve tried calling. Just… please call me when you get this.

(5:49am) H: Well there are videos on the fucking internet. Please don’t watch them before talking to me. You have to let me explain my love. Please hear me out. 

(6:16am) H: Y/N I can’t tell if you’re asleep or whether you’re ignoring me. Baby I am so sorry. I had way too much to drink and Jeff arranged for her to be there and I… please call me back. 

There were 6 other texts, which were all similar variations of the same thing before a final one about an hour ago.

(8:19am) H: I’m flying back home to talk to you. Stay in the apartment please. 

Y/N knows that it’s almost 15 hours from Tokyo to London. She also knows that Harry is crazy enough to fly out of the country in the middle of tour. So she waits, wraps herself in blankets and lets the tears dry on her cheeks. 

~

It’s close to midnight when Y/N hears the key turn in the lock and her heart stops. Because he’s here and she’s here and she isn’t sure she’s going to be able to get a word out without crying. Y/N keeps her eyes down as she hears him walk into the bedroom and drop his bags on the floor. She looks up at him slowly, taking in his red rimmed eyes and dishevelled appearance. He stays close to the doorway, his movement slow and calculated as though he’s scared she’ll run if he gets too close. 

“Love, I am SO sorry.” Harry starts speaking, walking towards her slowly and Y/N’s eyes fill with tears. 

“What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I enough for you?” 

Y/N’s voice breaks off into a sob and Harry feels it like a knife to the chest. She hadn’t meant for that to be the first words out of her mouth but it’s what she’s feeling. Every insecurity she’d ever had, had just multiplied itself by 10 and come pouring out. Harry reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear and Y/N flinches at the contact. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I fucked up Y/N. Jeff invited her over as a good press opportunity and I had too much to drink and she kissed me.” He moves to sit beside her on the bed and Y/N brings her knees in to her chest. 

“Harry. You kissed her back. I saw the video, you don’t need to lie to me. I… I can smell her perfume.” Y/N feels nauseous again and Harry looks at her with the most broken look on his face. 

“Y/N it didn’t mean anything I swear. I was trashed and I got carried away.”

“Carried away? Harry, I saw the way you were holding her. You were kissing her like you were in love with her.”

“Y/N-”

“You kissed her like you kiss me.” It comes out almost as a whisper. Like a secret observation Y/N had been holding in. 

“That’s not true. All I do is think about you Y/N. I’ve just missed you so much and I-”

“Sorry sorry hold on.” Y/N cuts him off with a watery, bitter laugh. “You missed me so much that your solution was to make out with another woman? Right. Got it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t love her. I love you. I flew here to tell you that. You’re my whole life. And I will spend the rest of mine trying to make this up to you. Because I can’t lose you Y/N.” He grabs onto her hand and squeezes and Y/N’s heart tells her to forgive him because she loves him. But her mind speaks before her heart catches up. 

“I think you already have.”

A/N: Sorry guys :) Thinking of leaving this as a one shot...

Tags: @lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @lomlhstyles @opheliaofficial07 @behindmygreyeyes @gem1712 @stylesmoonlight12 @babyiamperfectforyou

[yurrfttboyy]

My big brother’s best friend Anthony had been around my whole life. He was as straight as my brother, a total gym rat who’s primary interest was video games and puss*. I don’t remember when exactly, but at some point I started stealing whiffs of Anthony and my brothers rank shoes when they would be in the basement playing video games. He would come over at least 3 nights a week and they’d just spend hours down there gaming and talking about chicks, while I’d be nonchalantly finding reasons to walk past the front door so that I could bend over and dive face-first into their shoes.

One day, Anthony came up to use the toilet and I didn’t know. He came around the corner to find me buried in his dirty, obviously rank shoes, but he didn’t say anything. He stopped for a second, looked down at the tent in my shorts and chuckled briefly before continuing back down to the basement, without a single word.

Years later, after my brother moved away to start a new life, Anthony hit me up. He had been struggling to keep a job, as he was rather lazy and didn’t like to work. He knew that I had a successful career, and apparently remembered how much I liked his feet, because he told me in his email that he had a proposition for me. He said that he would make me his foot slave if I agree to give him half of my income.

I was intrigued, and knew that I could afford it, so I offered to meet him. We met at a nice restaurant, i of course agreed to pay for us both, and we discussed it further. He told me that his parents were going to throw him out if he didn’t find a steady income soon, and that he’s had several jobs but couldn’t stand any one of them, and inevitably ended up quitting or getting fired for poor attendance from each one. I understood his situation, and desperately wanted to be his foot slave, so I agreed.

He told me to pay for his meal and then to go buy a small, metal chastity belt to put on. He told me that he was repulsed by the idea of me touching myself while thinking about his feet, so enforced chastity would be a mandatory part of the deal. He told me once I had it locked on and had my first payment that he would come to my house to collect the keys and my payment, and I’d finally get to drag my tongue across his rank soles.

****

That was five years ago, and not a thing has changed. Anthony lied to his family and told them he found a descent job, they all believed it and couldn’t be more proud. I’ve spent the last 5 years supporting him entirely, all while locked in chastity and constantly being fed his grimy foot sweat. We live together in “his” townhouse that I paid for, only I stay in the basement and out of his way unless he needs me to clean his feet or do some other menial chore for him.

I’m licking his feet right now, after a long day of playing basketball with some friends out in the park without socks, when he starts chuckling loudly. “Hey fag, I just had a chat with your brother. He’s coming to town next week, I told him he could stay in the guest room. I can’t wait to catch up, it’s been too long.” He told me, all while luxuriously wiggling his toes in my face. “While he’s here I expect total obedience out of you, don’t forget who and what you are. You will still be responsible for all domestic chores, you will still cook and serve all meals to us BOTH, and you will follow any order that my guest has to give, no matter how humiliating or ridiculous, do you understand me?” He said, moving his foot away for a moment to glare into my eyes. I meekly responded with a “yes sir”

“Good boy. I’ll be testing you while he’s here, and I expect absolutely zero fuck-ups. He’s not your brother anymore, you are a slave and he is your master’s best friend, and you WILL treat him accordingly.” All I could do was keep licking his feet and dread what was to come next week…

[homomenhommes]

My Sexy Trip - Part 1

The first day, I flew out of Powell River to Vancouver, and took a motel near the airport.

I had met a young man on line 4 or 5 years ago and we had continued to chat but had

never been able to meet in person. I'll call him Alex(andro) for the purposes of this

tale. He is a 35 year old Latino immigrant, with a good, but exacting job in the city.

Today was our first time to meet in person. We had planned to spend all afternoon and

evening together. Unfortunately, my flight was delayed 3 hours, so it was  dinner time

by the time Alex arrived, so we had a nice dinner together, getting to know each other a bit, 

before we went back to my motel. It then took us only moments to get naked, because we

both knew that we anted each other by this time. 

His cock was huge. You can see for yourself in the picture. Mine is about 3 inches. 

Figure it out for yourself. I estimate his was about 10 inches hard, and quite thick.

Like me, he is a touchy-feely person, so we spent a lot of time hugging, kissing, and

rubbing together. He was also very much into sucking cock, and although I could get

much of his cock in my mouth, he could get all of mine in his mouth and worked on it

until the rim started to get sore, probably the most my cock has been sucked at one 

time ever!

Eventually, I asked him to fuck me, which he proceeded to do, very carefully. It hurt

quite a bit going in, but he gradually fed it into me and I relaxed to take it. Little by 

little he inched it in until he was fully inside me, and we started a long, slow fuck.

It seemed to go on forever, until I eventually asked him to take it out of me. My hole was

sore for several days afterwards.

Our sexual encounter had lasted about three hours! The picture I have included was taken 

afterwards.I have blacked out his face to protect his anonymity, but believe me, he 

is very handsome!

We had planned to meet again on my return to Vancouver, but as you know, I got very

sick, and had to cancel. I hope we will meet again someday soon!

My Sexy Trip - Part 2

Twenty-four years ago, when I first got onto the internet, I went looking for other gay men, on all the available sites, using all the available chat groups.

I eventually connected with a man named Joe, a 35 year old American Serviceman in New York State. We started private chatting using some very basic video chat programme. I think it was called icu2 or something like that. It provided us with a very small image of each other and reasonable sound. It had its flaws, but at the time we thought it was amazing. We could see each other, and we could talk to each other. We also used Skype when it became available,  for video calls and phone calls.

Unlike so many of the "I'm in the American Armed forces" phonies you meet on line, Joe was for real. He really was a serviceman wanting to hook up with Mr. Right, and for me he was Mr. Right. Our chats soon led to online masturbation together, which we would do almost ever night, but that eventually led to us just staring into each other's eyes, wishing we were together. Let's face it. We fell in love. But it was a hopeless situation. I was a retired 60 year old schoolteacher in a small town in Canada, and he was a 35 year old career serviceman, still being transferred all over the states. Sadly we both knew there was no future for us. Joe made the choice for us. He stopped answering my calls. I was not angry about it. I knew he had to do it. He had a life to live.

Time passed. It was probably five years later. I got a message on Apple iMessage. It was headed with a telephone number. I recognized it. It was Joe's. All he said at first was "Hi", but when I recognized the number I was so glad to hear from him. We started chatting again. I learned that he had been transferred to San Francisco area, and had met an older man. They had been together for a couple of years. He was happy, but had never forgotten me. 

Over the next fifteen years, Joe and I chatted at rare intervals, maybe once a year, just to keep in touch. Joe married his partner, and they retired to Palm Springs. His partner owned a home in Denver also, so they spend winters in Palm Springs and summers in  Denver. 

Once Brad, my travel companion for the Mexican cruise, said that he wanted to have a couple of days in Palm Springs, I tested the waters to see if Joe wanted to meet in person after  all these years. He very much wanted to, and talked it over with his partner, Bill, who is 89, and after a harrowing bout with prostate cancer  is no longer much interested in sex. Bill has been encouraging Joe to look for sexual release with other men. I even talked with the two of them by phone and Bill gave his approval to Joe and I spending an afternoon together.

So, the day after we landed in Palm Springs, my travel companion, Brad, took off to spend the day at a gay dude ranch, and left me to spend the afternoon with my dream lover of twenty years before. 

I was waiting for Joe in the motel parking lot when he arrived, and suggested we start the afternoon by the motel pool, rather than meeting in a dreary, dark motel room. So that's what we did. Joe was much like I had seen on those tiny screens — older, yes, and heavier than 20 years before. But what I had never realized before because of the black and white screens, and later poor color quality, was that Joe was a redhead – or had been, because now he was more dirty blonde rather than grey, But his eyebrows were still quite ginger — I later found so were his pubes.  And his eyes! They we the same pale blue I had gazed into for hours years before. He was all I had hoped for.

And as he told me, I was still all that he he had wanted and hoped for. We both saw each other as the Mr. Right we had been looking for.

We still had only to try whether we would mesh together sexually. We went to my motel room. In moments we were kissing and stripping simultaneously. It was rather awkward because Joe is 6'2" and I am only 5'4", but we were hot and horny. We had waited 24 years for this. I injected my dick, hoping to get a decent hard-on, but Joe didn't care anyway. He wanted me just as I was. 

We flopped onto the bed, and for the next two hours hugged, and fondled,  and kissed and sucked and stared into each other's eyes just as we had longed to do 24 years before. I fondled and sucked his 7 inch, thick, rigid shaft with a hammer head while he did the same to my tiny flaccid one, which was not responding to the tri-mix today.

Eventually we decided it was time for him  to fuck me, to bring 24 years to a climax. As I have said, his dick was very thick, and shaped like the head of a hammer. My ass was still sore from Alexandro's massive dick three days before, and Joe's cock was just as thick as Alexandro's but 7" instead of 10". Joe was very gentle and as we lay spooned together fed his mighty tool into my waiting ass. It was a long, slow, beautiful fuck for both of us, a taste of what might have been. When he eventually shot his cum into me, we lay locked together for quite a while.

Both of us were grateful for this chance to get together, if only for one time. We don't regret the past. We just relish the single opportunity that we had. Nor do our companions resent or regret the meeting. All four of us went for dinner together the next night, all of us knowing that Joe and I had finally fucked, and everyone was happy for us!--

~~

+

[polutrope]

I'd love to see Fingon (with Mae if that's your jam, with anyone else if not) for hooking up for Christmas 🥺 please?

Thank you! While this was not officially a prompt (it was New Year's Eve haha), I decided it should be. I also added the tropical vacation prompt because no one sent it and I wanted to write it😁. ~1.2k words, rated a soft M, to be safe. Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list (prompts closed). Beleria Cast of Characters Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a lovely December day to all!

Maedhros woke to the trickle of water and the twitter of birds. Odd. He did not remember putting sleep sounds on last night. Maybe Fingon had? It must be early, still: his alarm hadn’t gone off. He pressed his eyes shut, clinging to sleep, and rolled over. God, it was hot! If Fingon had left the heat on…

“Time to get up!” Fingon’s voice chirped, stirring him from the haze of sleep.

“Why’s it s’ hot,” he mumbled. Registering that Fingon’s voice was coming from somewhere else, Maedhros claimed the bed luxuriously, splaying his limbs over crisp sheets, nuzzling his toes into the plush mattress.

Wait. This wasn’t his bed. His eyes shot open and he found himself in a room bathed in sunlight. Room was a generous assessment: it was more of a hut, walled by nothing but wire mesh and the thick jungle beyond.

Right. They were in Hyarmen. They’d arrived late last night, Maedhros in a fog after fourteen hours of travelling with barely a wink of sleep (he was definitely paying the upgrade for the extra legroom on the return flight – thinking he could do without was pure hubris).

The sound of Fingon’s laugh startled him from his shock. “Forgot we weren’t home?”

Maedhros hefted himself onto his elbows and blinked several times. His partner stood (shirtless) at a counter that cut the small space in two. He was pouring boiling water into a French press and smiling to himself.

“Morning,” said Fingon. “How you feeling? You slept almost twelve hours.”

Maedhros dragged his hands down his face. “And yet I still feel tired,” he groused.

“Good thing we have absolutely nothing to do,” Fingon said. “Though I was thinking it would be nice to go to the waterfall, and maybe snorkelling on the way back, and there’s apparently a great beach for sunset—”

“Sh, sh,” said Maedhros. “Coffee. Then plans.”

“You got it,” said Fingon, but Maedhros could tell it was taking great effort to keep a lid on his chatter because he started humming to himself as he took stock of the contents of their accommodation and placed the complimentary packets of tea and coffee in a prominent location where they would not forget to use them. Maedhros watched him with a swell of affection.

In his thirty-six years of life, Maedhros had never spent Yule without his family. A prickle of guilt intruded on his mellow mood at this thought. He imagined what they would be up to: Celegorm and Caranthir shamelessly sprawled on the large couch, Huan between them, criticising a recent blockbuster or offering uninformed opinions on the latest international relations issue, which Fëanor would chime in on every time he passed through the room, sprinkling his shrewd insights into the conversation like a pinch of salt in flavourless soup.

Celebrimbor would be in the basement reading while Amrod and Amras played video games on the couch across from him, and Curufin would be upstairs in the twins’ old bedroom wrapping presents, spending hours meticulously cutting and folding, a work of art that most of the gifts’ recipients would tear apart in only a few hours.

Nerdanel and Maglor would be in the kitchen, blasting carols and singing along, drinking endless cups of tea and getting gradually sillier as they baked batch after batch of cookies and prepped the components of the massive dinner spread.

If Maedhros were there, he would be drifting between all of them, often just observing. Later in the afternoon, it was tradition for him and Fëanor to take a walk together, the one time a year when they put work and the rest of the family aside to unburden themselves of personal stressors, complain in confidence, and share a private joke or two. How much each was willing to share fluctuated over the years but recently they had been more open with each other.

That was largely why Maedhros had dared to reveal, back in August, that he was considering spending this year away from home. With Fingon. Under the weight of the Finvesen family group chat’s subsequent silence, Maedhros had nearly buckled and withdrawn his statement. “Give me your phone,” Fingon had said, then stashed it away and dragged Maedhros on a four-hour hike. When they got back, there was a message from Fëanor: “That sounds like a lovely time,” followed by a series of emojis (some obviously supportive, others more ambiguous) from his brothers.

Maedhros had nearly wept. His eyes watered now, remembering it, when Fingon nudged a mug of coffee into his hand and flopped into bed beside him.

Fingon. He’d never spent Yule with Fingon.

“Thanks,” said Maedhros.

“How are you doing?” Fingon asked.

Maedhros shrugged and puffed a breath of air on his coffee. “It’s weird. Being here.”

“Yeah,” said Fingon. “It is a bit, for me too.” Then he watched Maedhros from the corner of his eye with a smirk.

“What’s that face?” Maedhros asked.

“I think you need to be distracted.” Fingon huffed a laugh, causing the coffee held to his lips to come dangerously close to overflowing its vessel.

“Yeah, I know,” said Maedhros, “you want to go swimming, and snorkelling, and—”

“No, no. I have a different idea now. I was gonna save it for tonight but…” Fingon grinned and Maedhros could see evidence of what he had in mind through his boxer shorts.

Maedhros took a sip of coffee and sank lower into the bed. “Fine. But I’m showering first, I feel disgusting.”

“Great, that’ll give me time to get ready.”

Ready for what? Maedhros eyed him warily but received no further explanation.

*

“What… when did you get that?” Maedhros sputtered when he emerged from his shower.

Fingon leaned languidly against a wood beam in the centre of the room wearing a red satin robe fringed with white faux fur. It was tied loosely around his waist, accentuating the curve of his butt while exposing a slice of one well-muscled leg.

“Happy Yule,” Fingon husked in his most seductive voice, then laughed. Without disturbing his pose, he asked, “Is it totally ridiculous?”

“Um.” Maedhros swallowed the lump rising in his throat. “Yeah, I mean, it’s…” Damn it if Fingon couldn’t make anything look sexy. “Fuck it.”

In two long strides he had his hands on Fingon’s waist and yanked him flush against his hips. While they kissed, Maedhros slipped his hands under the hem of the robe, exploring the plane of Fingon’s chest, then dropping lower to grope his ass.

Beyond the roar of blood in his ears, thunder clapped in the distance. By the time Maedhros had Fingon spread out on the bed, a deluge of rain drummed on the hut’s tin roof, almost loud enough to drown out the appreciative babble and groans tumbling involuntarily from Maedhros’ lips.

When it was over and they lay breathless, struggling to cool off in the humidity, Fingon asked, “So, does this still feel weird?”

Maedhros’ head lolled to the side to look at him. “Despite your best efforts to make it weird with that costume,” he grazed his knuckles over Fingon’s hip, “no. No, it does not feel weird.”

[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Villains Never Retire (2)

[This is part two of three for Villains Never Retire, and the third overall installment of Synovus’s story! As usual, if you’d prefer the Ao3 posting, you can find that here, and the master post with links to all of the parts of the Synoverse pinned on my blog, or here. Enjoy!]

All told, you think you did a pretty good job staying out of the scramble for your territory.

Yes, you did somehow manage to get caught up in one of the first power moves someone made and put one of them in the hospital on principle. And okay, maybe you were… tetchy… about people starting to lay claim to titles that once had been yours.

But hey. You were a villain. Selfishness was in your nature.

There was, however, one very significant hurdle to overcome.

You were very quickly becoming dangerously bored.

Normally, you kept yourself busy by partaking in various villainous pastimes. You exercised your powers, studied pop culture to keep your witticisms up to date, and actually studied various goings on from political shifts to news from other villains. If you had a plan upcoming, you worked on filling in its details. If you were in recovery from your last plan… well, you were in recovery.

But with your grand plan of retirement, there was no reason to do any of that. All you had to keep you occupied was a private island full of state of the art facilities, a teenager, and your small army of minions.

Okay, so it shouldn’t have been that hard, but you were used to multitasking, okay?

It didn’t help that everyone else, rather than trying to avoid the news of what was happening on the mainland, were actively keeping up with it. It seemed like every time you entered a room, someone scrambled to change a TV or radio channel, or stop a video’s playback. Several times, you showed up to eat in the dining hall, and found everyone else furiously debating something in a corner - only to stop cold as soon as anyone saw you.

And you also often lost the war against your own curiosity. Typically late at night (by your reckoning, which could mean any time on the clock at all depending on when you’d woken up last), you wound up skimming headlines, or going through your emails.

Still. You didn’t intervene. Not even when fucking Dazzler showed back up, and you hated Dazzler so much you’d spent a year specifically running them out of the hemisphere.

It was tempting, though.

Your self-imposed exile - sorry, retirement - was interrupted about a month after the fighting over the West Coast began in earnest. You woke up one morning to find an invitation set out on your balcony, complete with a completely unnecessary white rose threaded through a signet ring.

You stared at it for a minute. Then you raised your phone and snapped a picture of it, and dropped it into a group chat.

[Syn]: Someone care to explain what this is about?

You left it where it was, and went back inside. You’d need to do laundry before you dealt with that. And probably inform people of where you’d be going.

—-

By the time you were dressed and had eaten something, you had a response.

[Tall]: It hasn’t been that long since you came to a meeting, Synovus.

[Dr.W]: We even gave you a few hours’ notice. This time.

You hissed at your phone as you replied.

[Syn]: I recall the last meeting. I also recall, not long after that, delivering my resignation to each and every one of you in this chat.

You might’ve gone on to say more - but you nearly ran into Minerva, and abruptly had to reach out to steady her.

“Watch- Synovus?”

The once-hero was balanced on crutches, which she was not adapting to with any fluidity. Her leg, broken at Alexandria’s birthday dinner a month ago, was nearly healed. Or at least, it would be, if she stopped trying to walk on it. The wonders of a heroic healing factor.

“That is my name.” You reply intelligently.

Minerva scowls at you, and at first you think it’s for nearly running into her or your reply, but then she surprises you by going so far as to take one hand off of her crutches - to indicate your clothes. “Where are you going?”

“Well, you needn’t be so suspicious, dear Minerva.” You drawl. The helmet is still tucked under one arm, but you already feel the mask of your field persona slipping back into place. It’s comforting, if inconvenient.

For a moment, Minerva blocks your way, staring you down. You meet her eyes, relatively unbothered. You two have done a variation of this particular dance too many times by now not to know how it ends - with you getting away.

She whistles.

You wince.

“What’s up?” Asks your young protégé, poking her head out of a door in the hall. “Did you throw one of the crutches aga- oh.”

Alexandria slips more fully into the hall, considering you curiously. “I thought we didn’t have any more training exercises today?”

It’s a reasonable assumption. You and Alexandria have been keeping to her training regimen, at least. Those sessions are the only times you’ve donned your costume since you delivered your notes of notice (for all the good that seems to have done you).

“We do not.” You answer shortly. “I have a meeting.”

“With who?” Alexandria asks, tilting her head. Minerva is still watching you with an intense scrutiny you find more annoying than unsettling.

“Individuals.”

“Villains?”

“Presumably.”

“Anyone I’d know?”

“Probably.”

“Where’s the meeting?”

“Elsewhere.”

“When is it?”

“Soon.”

“Can I come?”

“No.”

“Synovus!” Oflok calls, jogging down the hall after you with a small box in one hand, “good, glad I caught you - these are for Tallflawes.”

Either oblivious to or uncaring of Minerva and Alexandria’s reactions (one a sharp start, the other a more subtle tensing) Oflok tucks the box of what you know are cookies into your upturned helmet, while you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Minerva recovers first, “Tallflawes, as in the supervillain, I presume?”

“The Scourge of the East Coast!” Alexandria sounds, if anything, like she might start squealing in excitement. “Oh that makes sense that you two would cooperate! Hey, did you know that there’s a group on the Internet who thinks you two should date-“

“I am not dating Tallflawes.” You snap, flushed. You know exactly who to blame for that stupid fan theory.

Oflok gives you a look. “You’ve done worse.” She comments, and you wish she meant the murdering.

Scowling, you tug on Oflok’s shadow, turning it briefly physical to tug at her ears. Most people find the reminder of your ability to manipulate their personal shadows suitably intimidating.

Oflok sticks out her tongue at you.

You resist the urge to respond in kind.

“Do you know who else is going to be at this meeting?” Minerva demands, but she’s looking at Oflok.

“Ah.” Oflok glances at you, and you throw up your free hand in askance. “Lord Synovus-“ (it was one of those kinds of days, as you’d told her earlier) “-is sworn not to discuss those meetings. You know how he is.”

Alexandria nods, “Well, if Tallflawes is there, and it’s not a one-on-one, that’ll probably mean… something to do with territory? That’ll mean Gray Gangster at least, since he controls a good chunk of the area between you two? I don’t know anyone else who has significant enough territory to bother.”

“Dr. Wraith.” Minerva says grimly. “And the mages, Unwritten and Chanter.”

“Touched as I am that you all are so concerned about my social circles.” You interject, before they can keep guessing your comrades. “I do, in fact, need to get to this meeting, so if you will just scoot your righteousness to one side-“

“I’m going.” Alexandria announces, “So lead the way.”

When you glare at her, she shrugs, “I am your apprentice.”

Minerva’s expression at that is a study you don’t have time for - not the least because she informs you, “I am not allowing my daughter into a room full of supervillains without me there.”

The idea of it - taking Menace as your shadow, while Athena stands guard at your shoulder in furiously disapproving silence - is. Well. It just is, and it shouldn’t be, because this should never have come up.

“Easy fix.” You reply smoothly, on autopilot, “as neither of you will be going. This is not a meeting for apprentices or injured over-protective heroes.”

“I’ve fought through worse injuries.” Minerva says stubbornly.

“Mom, I don’t need you to protect me so much anymore-“ Alexandria abandons that angle completely at the look Minerva gives her, and tries another, “- it wouldn’t make any sense for you to go, why would Athena be there?”

“Then I won’t go as Athena.” Minerva says, irked. “Synovus has to have spares. That’ll do for one evening.”

You nearly have a heart attack in the goddamn hallway. Mental image of Minerva in your costume aside, you can’t think of any way to declare that you are hiding someone more clearly than to have them show up in your hand-me-downs. Even Menace’s costume was designed to be different, regardless of the similarities between them.

Tallflawes and Wraith would have a field day.

“This.” You tell Oflok, deadly serious. “This is why we keep our mouths shut, my dear Fair Lady of the Kitchen. This. Is your fault. Fix it.”

“Well, there is that project we’ve been working on.” Oflok muses, and that is when you know you are well and truly fucked.

—-

At least you finally get a chance to reply to the group chat again.

[Tall]: Yes, I did get your note. Very elegant.

[????]: Yeah about that… the swirling miasma of chaos that is my life kinda… ate it before I could read it?

[????]: Saw the Twitter post though.

[Tall]: Decidedly not elegant.

[OP]: I did not receive a note. This upsets me.

[Syn]: Optix, give me a physical location to find you, and I will gladly remedy my error.

[OP]: No :P

[Dr.W]: Come on, Synovus. You didn’t really think the rest of us would continue to suffer through these meetings without you, did you?

[Ibis]: My companion and I will also be in attendance. We wish to see you, Synovus.

[*GP*]: Ooh, wouldn’t wanna upset the goddess, Syn

[Syn]: Someone remind me why we added Prodigy.

[Dr.W]: I believe it was your suggestion, with Optix’s support.

[Dr.W]: You did not elaborate on your reasoning, but Optix said something about ‘memes’ being ‘fire.’

[Dr.W]: It was mixed with emoticons, so I can only presume my interpretation is correct.

[*GP*]: [FortniteDance.gif]

Syn, ????, Tall, Dr.W, and Ibis have reacted to this message with *thumbs down*

[OP]: Synovus, bring your guests

[Dr.W]: Guests?

[Tall]: Optix, I feel obligated to remind you not to listen to anyone through our devices.

[Tall]: Additionally, I second both the question and the suggestion.

[Syn]: …

[Ibis]: We wish also to meet your allies.

[Ibis]: Unless they are prisoners - then we will respect your rights to your own sacrifices.

[Dr.W]: Here - all in favor of extending the Right of Parley to Synovus’s guests for the duration of the next gathering?

Tall, *GP*, ????, Ibis, and OP have reacted to this message with *thumbs up*

[Syn]: … Will the teleporter you sent me even take more than one person?

[Tall]: You’ll have to stand rather close together, but I see no issue - provided, of course, your collective mass does not exceed the specifications.

[*GP*]: Wait, who’s playing host this time? Need to know if I should eat before or not.

Resigned, you get the details from Tallflawes, and promises that the others will intervene if anyone else at the meeting not in your chat - namely, Gangster and Chanter - try anything.

While the banter continues (now at Galactic Prodigy’s expense instead of your own - the poor soul had made a typo), you set your phone down, and rub at your face with both hands. You are currently sitting in your own - well, okay, it was technically a sitting room.

You were waiting on Minerva and Alexandria, was the point.

You pull the package of cookies out of your helmet and tuck it into a pocket where it won’t get too crushed - you’re tempted to just eat them, but you know Oflok will make you wait while she makes more. You’ve had enough peer pressure for one day.

Helmet now clear, you slip it on, and find comfort in the familiarity of the interior, and being closed off from the world again.

As the clasps are sealing and the audio is syncing, you catch Menace’s voice, calling, “Ready!”

You look up, noting that she also has her helmet on now - though you could tell from the voice. Like your helmet, hers has a slight affectation, allowing her to sound more feminine without focusing. Though yours is featureless, hers has angles, more akin to a motorcycle helmet with a permanent visor.

And behind her is Minerva, in the results of some of your attempts to avoid boredom.

(Well, that wasn’t the only reason you’d designed it - but it was the reason you’d gone from concept to testing, ostensibly just to see if you could do it. You’d never intended to actually show it to her.)

‘Athena’ had been styled after a war goddess, what was worshipped by her partner. This costume, which you’d mentally dubbed ‘Amphitrite,’ was meant to fit the woman who wore it. You knew it wasn’t quite the same, given it was your design and not Minerva’s, but-

“Are these real pearls?” Minerva demands, running a hand over the scalloped edge of her half-mask. The pearls in question are set into the brow, at different points to accentuate the design.

You blink. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

Minerva makes a disapproving noise, and you roll your eyes. “They’re not load bearing, and they’re naturally harvested with mindfulness for the environment. You can pry them out to give to the poor or people who help you if you want.”

Minerva narrows her gaze at you, though it’s filtered slightly by the glass lenses of this mask. “You’ve… put a lot of thought into this.”

You shrug as you stand. “It seemed a shame not to have something more fitting for your costume.” You don’t intend for that to be a double-entendre, but given that this suit does hug the figure more, you realize it could be. You move on rather than address it, circling to check the seals and explaining as you do.

“It’s modeled after a wetsuit, so you won’t have to worry about potential wear and tear. The interior is woven with Kevlar and padded for ballistics. I presumed you’d prefer something more akin to your old costume in terms of contact, if only for familiarity, ergo-“ You gesture to the mask, “No full helmet, and the collar not reaching your chin. All of the compartments are water tight, and the compression should help with deep dives.”

You fold your arms, considering, “I wouldn’t recommend relying on it in arctic waters, we didn’t get to testing that factor.”

Minerva blinks, having stood warily still throughout your inspection. “And the color?”

Rather than white and gold, as her old suit had been, ‘Amphitrite’ was a darker blue, with slight lines of distortion. There were panels of extra fabric at the waist for modesty, though they were shorter than the skirt of Athena’s chiton.

You’d kept the gold accents though. Small gleams at the neck, wrists, and hips. Lining under the eyes of the mask. It worked with her hair.

“Camouflage. White or black stands out in the water. Blue seemed both fitting from a design standpoint, and practical.”

Minerva rolls her shoulders, quietly pensive. You realize you’re holding your breath.

“Well?” Menace prompts, leaning in to poke at her mother.

“I-“ Minerva falters, then sighs. “Thank you, Synovus. It’s - unexpected.”

“You think it’s creepy.” You conclude, sighing. “I promise you the measurements were guesses-“

“It’s - a little unsettling.” Minerva admits, “But not for the reasons you think. Before I became Athena, I… would occasionally go out for ocean rescues. I wore a wetsuit… and a snorkel mask.”

She reaches up to touch the edge of the mask you’ve given her again. You can place that hesitancy now - it’s wonder.

“I didn’t know.” You say softly, and it’s the truth. “Though I take it that means you don’t dislike it?”

“She loves it.” Menace informs you.

“A- Menace.” Minerva scolds.

You are grinning, beneath your helmet. “Well, in that case, there is one other matter of business before we can leave.”

“And that would be?”

“A name!” Menace crows, “A villain name!”

“I am not a villain.” Minerva corrects her quickly.

Menace shrugs, “You are for this meeting. I suggest Pacifica, after the ocean.”

“In my notes for the costume, I referred to it as Amphitrite, in keeping with your previous naming convention.” You offer.

Minerva shakes her head, “When I first started,” she says quietly, “I told people, when they asked, that a Naiad had rescued them.”

“Then a Naiad you will be.” You accept. The name, both Greek and tied to the water nymphs, feels right.

But you weren’t here to play dress up.

“The others you’re going to meet today know I change methods of address, but for formality reasons, will default to the neutral. I ask that you do the same. Do not speak unless spoken to, and even then I might intervene. You have been granted the Right of Parley for this meeting - that means you must also agree to grant it to others. That means no violence, no mental influences, and no poisoning. If someone else draws, you may do the same - but you must let them make the first move to strike, or the agreement is void.”

“What happens if someone breaks the agreement?” Menace asks.

“I happen.” You say flatly. "Questions?"

You leave out the times these meetings have turned into full scale brawls. You’d had to learn who could be invited and who couldn’t, and it was an ever shifting roster.

“Several.” Minerva - Naiad - says grimly, “but none, I suspect, that you would answer. Let’s get this over with.”

“Menace has been recognized as my student. Naiad, you will be a petitioner I have granted sanctuary. If anyone asks further, tell them you invoke right of privacy. They’ll still push, but it means officially they’re supposed to go to me about it as your sponsor.”

When they both nod, you gesture for them to follow you to the balcony, where the ring and rose still rest. You pick them up, and decide it’s better to show than tell.

You pull the rose free of the ring, and drop the signet to the ground. It expands, metal fluid and shifting now that it’s been triggered, but maintaining the perfect circle.

Once it stops, you step into it, and gesture for Naiad and Menace to join you. It is a little awkward - like trying to stand three people inside an oversized hula hoop - but as Tallflawes promised, doable.

“Pemberley.” You invoke - and you snap the stem of the rose.

—-

Between one blink and the next, you are there, and then you are here.

‘There’ had been a balcony in the Pacific, balmy air coming in off of the waves, the sun just past its zenith.

‘Here’ was a well-furnished room in the modern style, with one wall consisting of floor-to-ceiling windows, showing you the night sky and the distant Atlantic.

You shake your shoulders, dispelling the strange sensation teleporting always gave you.

“Pemberley?” Naiad questions. “As in-“

“Yes!” Calls a delighted voice from behind you, because Tallflawes is, after all, a villain. “A delightful choice of name for a home, isn’t it?”

You step out of the circle before you turn, letting the stem drop and tucking the rose blossom into a pocket. It gives you a moment before you have to actually address her.

“Tallflawes uses a coded system to designate transportation points.” You explain, “based, for some unfathomable reason, on primarily Gothic literature.”

You come to a stop in front of Tallflawes herself, and incline your head in a regal acknowledgment of the host for the evening.

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell them before you arrived.” She responds with a smirk.

Though Tallflawes has to look up at you to do it, she’s long since mastered the art of meeting your eyes through your helmet. Though she will occasionally wear masks in the field, here at her home, she hasn’t bothered. And though you know she’s worn a variety of ‘costumes’ over the years… she’s chosen a white pantsuit to host, marked with the shoulder-and-lapel accents of her particular technology.

You can’t help but smile, “What fun is there in explaining everything?”

You leave the question rhetorical, gesturing behind you, “Menace, my protégé, and Naiad. I take responsibility for their actions and damages, for the duration of our meeting.”

“So you have spoken,” Tallflawes replies smoothly, “So you must live. Welcome to my home, Menace, Naiad. I will not promise you peace, only a place at my table.”

It’s still strange, to hear someone else speak the ritual words. To be the visitor, instead of the host.

You feel more than see Menace and Naiad watching you - but now is not the time to respond.

“Formalities aside, Tallflawes, you never did explain the purpose of this meeting.”

She gestures for you to follow, and you fall into step beside her as she leads the way through a selection of hallways and adjoining rooms. “Why, Synovus, darling, it’s you of course.”

You’re fairly certain both of your hangers-on tense, but you are unperturbed. “Doubtful.”

“Would I lie to you, my dearest?”

“Only as much as I lie to you, dear heart.” Your tone is sardonic. Hers is not. There was a time your positions were reversed. But regardless of the tone, you know you both understand each other.

“Well, that’s only fair.” Tallflawes agrees, shrugging. “But I’d rather only go through everything once.”

You tip your head in recognition, and change the topic accordingly. “Your sense in decor hasn’t changed.”

Indeed, from the white walls of the room you’d arrived in, to the pale gray of the furniture, everything you’d passed so far had been remarkably monochromatic, with only the dark lines of supporting furniture to accentuate the lack of color.

“All the better to show the bloodstains.” Tallflawes replies serenely, as you reach a door. “Take your seat, Synovus. We’ll begin shortly.”

You know that’s not why she decorates in white, of course. Tallflawes would never spill blood in her living quarters - at least, not without having it immediately cleaned and the victimized furniture replaced.

No, Tallflawes decorates in white because it makes every guest uncomfortable. It leaves everyone who walks her halls checking surreptitiously for shoe prints in the carpet, smudges on glass, feeling as though they are an embarrassing stain in a spotless world.

And you, in your dark costume, had always been like a walking blot of ink on a white page, slinking from one part of the building to the next. You had recognized the power play for what it was, and in defiance, had actively stained something every time you visited. Spilled drinks, actual ink blots from pens. Sometimes you’d had to get creative.

But now, all of the seats for her guests, spread out in this room in a rough circle, are black.

You settle into the chair that is yours (it’s complicated to explain why you know it is yours - a combination of view of entrance and exits and decor patterns and who else is sitting where) with a practiced grace, tossing your cape over one arm of the chair and leaning against the other, legs crossing comfortably.

Menace and Naiad shuffle for a moment, before finding their places at your shoulders - likely modeling it on how Gray Gangster, across from you, has two of his enforcers at the ready.

Everyone else is alone - bar Unwritten, who this time has a small dragon in her lap, gnawing ferociously on the upholstery - except for Ibis, who sits a few seats over from you with Vulture directly beside her. It throws off the symmetry of the circle to have their chairs so close together. Tallflawes has solved this by putting herself opposite the pair, with you and Gangster on the other quarter-axis. You approve.

On your left is Dr. Wraith, the immortal with a penchant for robbing museums. You’re not sure how old she actually is, and you do know for certain that not every artifact she’s stolen under the pretense of ‘reclaiming’ has actually belonged to her at some point, but you can account firsthand for how hard she is to kill. She gives you a wintry smile.

On your right sits Unwritten, now enticing her dragon to gnaw on the tie of her robes instead of Tallflawes’ furniture. “Hello, Syn.” She calls merrily. Her clothing changes color as you watch, but she doesn’t seem to be aware of it. Perils of being a chaos mage.

Ibis, in an excess of golden jewelry, sits with her consort on Unwritten’s other side. She bares her teeth at you in what you understand as a favorable greeting, and ruffles her wings in lieu of a wave. Supposedly, she and Vulture are the most recent vessels of long dead gods. You’re not sure if that’s objectively true, but you’re hardly one to throw stones for a bit of self-aggrandizement. Or a God complex either, really.

Past Vulture, and flanking Gray Gangster, is Chanter. He raises a brow at your two guests, but nods solemnly. Where Unwritten is chaos ever-roiling, Chanter is tightly constrained. His posture is perfect, his clothing neat. The only sign of his abilities are the swirling colors in the gemstones of his necklace, and in the small pocketwatch-shaped device he keeps on a chain wrapped around one hand.

Gray Gangster themselves is as unreadable as always. They won’t speak at this meeting - you’ve only ever heard them speak once - but their enforcers will translate what they want. A traditional pin suit and fedora marks the crime boss of the North. They do not offer you a greeting.

“Heya Jim.” You call to one of the enforcers you recognize.

“Synovus,” he replies respectfully, dipping his head.

Seated on Gangster’s right, between him and Tallflawes, is a bouncing bundle of energy you know as G.P. - Galactic Prodigy.

Lanky, blue skinned, and with several tendrils that he continues to insist cannot be described as ‘tentacles’ in place of hair, Prodigy never had a chance at blending in among humans. Lucky for him, he’d never intended to.

Prodigy had been an instant splash with the hero scene - though, as one of only.. (five? Yeah you were pretty sure the number was still five, unless Astrae had had her kid) five aliens on Earth, he would’ve stood out regardless. You remembered the first time you saw an advertisement for his themed cereal.

But then the kid had realized he wanted to go home, maybe, at some point, and he’d wound up in some trouble that you’d had to haul him out of, and some people who wanted nothing more than to lock him up somewhere and study him had taken that as opportunity to brand him a traitor. And Prodigy had decided that crime was more fun anyway.

He mostly pissed off governments by stealing classified files - making sure no one else wound up where they’d wanted to put him.

And that left Tallflawes, reigning queen of the circle and host of this tenuous peace. Her chair was slightly raised on a small dais. She had a small table on which to set a champagne glass, which you knew actually held a non-alcoholic sparkling cider. As she took her seat, she did not look at anyone in particular, instead checking something on a summoned view screen.

That technology was not public access - hell, even you had only figured out a few basic components to some of what Tallflawes did. It wasn’t that she was a genius - though she was, undoubtedly - it was that she was a woman out of time.

Some indeterminate amount of time in the future (she refused to tell anyone when, exactly) Tallflawes had been grappling with a hero for different reasons. During the fight, they had both been knocked into a contraption she’d been working on with the aim of deciphering time travel. It had worked - but she hadn’t planned on it being activated yet, and certainly not as a round-trip.

So she and the hero known as ‘Blue Prophet’ were stuck in the now.

Tallflawes, disinclined to give her technology to anyone else anyway, had immediately found ways to set up shop again, and now hand-crafted most of her tech in a foundry/workshop downstairs. Prophet, she’d told you once, had nowhere near the amount of knowledge needed to do the same - so he only had what he’d brought with him.

She was rather smug about that.

You realize Menace has leaned over towards you when she murmurs, “What’s the significance of Pemberley?”

“Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen. The estate the protagonist moves to once she’s married, and proof of her suitor’s good heart and business sense.” You reply, gesturing vaguely to the area around you. “Also, in this case, definitely bugged.”

“Noted. What’s our island called, then?”

You sigh, “Thornfield. From Jane Eyre, by Emily Brontë.”

Naiad gives you an incredulous side-eye.

“What does that represent?”

“You know, Menace, I believe I have a copy at home. You can borrow it and find out yourself.”

“That doesn’t help me know what it means now, though.”

“Naiad seems to recognize it. Why doesn’t she explain?”

Naiad exhales in a near-imperceptible sigh. You realize she probably has a lot of practice at this - keeping her mouth and jaw still, if not the rest of her face. “I support you broadening your literary horizons and coming to your own conclusions.”

Menace leans further forward, “Wait, you agree with Synovus?”

“That is not what I said.”

“It is what she meant though.” You confide to one side, not quiet enough that Naiad can’t hear you.

You might’ve continued - or Menace might’ve found something else to ask about, there were certainly plenty of conversation starters in the room - except Tallflawes looked up from her screen. Recognizing the sign, you raised a hand, gently nudging Menace back into place.

“Before we begin with this meeting’s purpose.” Tallflawes calls, and her voice is clear and commanding, “Are there any relevant challenges that must be settled?”

“Nope.” Replies Prodigy. At a look from Tallflawes (and Wraith and Chanter) he sighs, and recites, “I hold no grudges with anyone here.”

One of the enforcers - Not-Jim - speaks for Gangster. Chanter gives his affirmation solemnly. Ibis uses the plural as Vulture simply nods. Unwritten mostly sticks to the script.

You go to give your oath, and pause. Athena, your rival, is standing at your shoulder. In a different name, in a different costume. Someone who hurt her child, accidentally or no, and was working to change.

The question was - did you still hold a grudge?

“Whether I hold a grudge against anyone present remains to be seen.” You settle for that, “though I give my oath that any potential grudges will not see consequence until well after this meeting’s conclusion.”

Tallflawes watches you for much too long. She nods, and turns to Dr. Wraith, who gives the standard answer.

“Aw come on,” Prodigy complains, “Why does Synovus get to give a different answer?”

“Because Synovus is retired.” You drawl, “And only here to find out what you all could possibly want.”

“The oath given was sufficient.” Tallflawes says, as though you hadn’t spoken. “Though Synovus is why we are here. We don’t have many rules - and I don’t intend to ask anyone to follow any more than we already do. But I think we all need to know a few things about your plans for retirement.”

She taps the arms of her chair, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m retiring.” You reiterate, “if you want specifics, ask for them.”

“A point of clarification before we devolve-“ Chanter puts in, leaning forward, “- Synovus, are you aware of what’s been happening in your territory since you announced your retirement?”

Awful question. Admit to ignorance, or pretend you know everything. You do neither, “Again, you’ll have to be more specific before I can answer that question.”

“He refers,” Dr. Wraith says softly, “To the small scale war breaking out between upstarts. The kind you normally put down, or intimidated too much for them to start.”

You sigh, “That is to be expected. I covered a lot of ground with several large scale cities - and it isn’t as though I had a no-interference policy.”

“And if you want to watch those cities burn, that’s your business.” Unwritten says cheerfully, “I just want to know if you’re backing anyone, so I know who to bet on.”

“What.”

Jim shrugs, “You do have a student, after all. Maybe you wanted to have them take over?” He looks towards Menace, and several others do as well.

“Though we haven’t seen her out and about - or heard much at all about her yet.” Unwritten agrees, peering closer.

“An apprentice succeeding the master is only natural.” Chanter points out.

“Menace is under my tutelage - but she is not my pawn.” You say coldly, straightening from your lounged position. “If she wishes to take my place, that will be her affair.”

“Do you?” Asks Tallflawes, and she is no longer looking at you.

Menace, to her immense credit, doesn’t fidget under the gaze of so many monsters from her bedtime stories. “I have no plans to do so at this time.”

Dr. Wraith laughs, in a sign of approval. “Inherited Synovus’s tongue, if nothing else.”

You give her a sharp glance that she has no way of knowing occurred, picking up on the word choice. You haven’t addressed allegations she’s your actual child, and you don’t intend to be baited into discussing it now either.

“I choose my words for myself, Dr. Wraith. My teachers deserve their credit where it is due - but do not presume I am only their creation.”

Dr. Wraith gives another cold smile, and you’d swear you can feel Naiad’s blood pressure rising.

“A warning aptly given.” Tallflawes says coolly, “And not one we are likely to forget, child. The question remains. Clarified - Synovus, do you name a successor to your territory?”

“I do not.”

“What about your rivals?” Prodigy asks, having folded his legs up underneath him.

You are still.

“Athena and her Legionnaire.” Ibis hums, “I do not believe she is like us… but I would like to find out.”

“Bit difficult, given Legionnaire’s dropped off the map.” Not-Jim says.

Unwritten shrugs, balancing her dragon on one hand as it tried to climb on top of her head, “It never made sense to me that they were your rivals anyway, Synovus, so you know I’m in favor.”

“Dazzler or White Shadow would’ve been more thematic.” That’s Chanter, and you’re reminded why you’ve never liked him.

“This is an old conversation.” Dr. Wraith puts in, “the point is, if Synovus is retired, they may no longer claim the Right of Rivalry against the heroes Athena and Legionnaire.”

“Point of clarification.” Asks a voice from over your shoulder, and you tense as Naiad continues, “Define the Right of Rivalry?”

Chanter, again, “Your patron is the one who penned the Right. You do not know?”

Tallflawes’ eyes do not narrow, but you do feel them weighing on you.

Prodigy speaks before she can, “Hey, it took me forever to learn these things, no harm in wanting to know for sure.”

He looks at Naiad, and you wonder if they have met before. If he will know her, beneath the mask. You should have asked. You didn’t.

“Basically, no one is supposed to kill someone else’s rival, or go out of their way to fuck them over. There’s a whole lot of wiggle room if one of them comes after you or someone changes territories, or something happens, but it’s our way of calling dibs.”

Chanter remarks disdainfully, “Synovus has broken the Right before, of course.”

You force yourself to relax back into your chair. “Point of contention.” You say, as though bored, “The case of death of Igneous was ruled valid, and I have settled the debt with Heathen.”

Unwritten snorts, and you hear her mutter, “flying submarine.”

“Point - both of them - acknowledged.” Tallflawes cuts in. “Synovus, do you acknowledge that you may no longer claim the Right of Rivalry?”

You are silent, for a beat. You knew this was a possibility, but to bring it up here is forcing the issue. Is someone else eager to hunt them? It would have to be someone here, powerful enough to be willing to risk your wrath -

“I claim inheritance of Synovus’s rivals.” Menace says.

Tallflawes tilts her head, “On what grounds? No more than that they were your patron’s rivals?”

You do not speak. You cannot. To do so would be seen for what it would be - a desperate attempt at a cover up.

But Menace, your menace, continues on with her own gamble. She says simply, “They are my parents.”

There is silence in the room. In that silence, you can hear Naiad’s sharp intake of breath, and the creak of Menace’s gloves as she tightens her grip, hands clasped behind her back. You know how far it is to the nearest window and how everyone here will begin if it turns to violence. Shadows begin to knot, unseen, under your palms.

And then Gray Gangster laughs. Chuckles, really. It’s rough, and unsettling, and sounds like something from a graveyard had dragged its way up to sit in this room and mock you. He claps, slowly, exactly three times, as his enforcers watch him intently.

Not-Jim looks up, at you. “He congratulates you, Synovus.” They say neutrally, “On going above and beyond his expectations for your agreement. He will support Menace’s claim.”

With that declaration, the spell of silence is broken. Ibis and Vulture mutter to each other, speculative, while Chanter slowly nods. Dr. Wraith is staring at Menace, calculative, and tsks in a way that might indicate sympathy. Tallflawes cuts a glance towards Prodigy. Prodigy gives a bewildered shrug.

“We acknowledge Menace’s claim to the Right of Rivalry with Athena and Legionnaire. Are there any other matters of business we must address?”

The meeting continues - but no one in your party speaks again.

—-

It’s only after you teleport all three of you back to the island (crushing the rose blossom in your palm with a terse ‘Thornfield’) that you expect the dam to break.

You are braced for it, prepared, waiting for the accusations and demands and questions. You stand on your balcony, letting the warm wind whip past you, and you wait for them to begin.

But Menace leaves first, stepping off the balcony railing and into the air to soar straight up, far away from both you and her mother. She leaves without a word.

Naiad - Athena, Minerva - is almost worse. She pulls off her mask, as the two of you watch Menace’s outline grow smaller. She watches her daughter fly away, and says softly, “Well. You did warn me you were a liar, Synovus.”

She leaves her mask on the railing, right where the ring and rose were earlier, and turns to leave. It is her parting shot that hurts more;

“More the fool, I.”

And you can only stand and stare at the starlight, alone.

[Do not fear! There will be a (at least slightly) happier conclusion - but this does mean instead of a two-parter, you all will be waiting on a part three. See you then!]

[ankhmutes]

Sinful Sunday

I guess this could be any Pedro Pascal character, I kept it generic enough that it could be pre-outbreak Joel, Javi, Frankie, or any modern character of Pedro's.

I’m trying something new. I can’t decide which pedro pascal character to use, so… I do have to thank @chaotic-mystery for inspiration, I saw a fic earlier by one of her mutuals Gracie and kind of ran with it.....

Sorry, no minors under the cut.

Warnings: semi-public sexual indecent act in a church (ish?) swearing, graphic mentions of sex I'm trying! I'm new at this warning thing...

It had been a long time since he had set foot into the building, but he had decided to try, just to make a good impression. He had gone for years wen he was younger, naturally, but he fell out of habit when he left home. 

Now… 

He was sitting in the fourth row, not quite front, but not too far into the center that he would stand out if he tried to leave. He kept shifting in his seat as he tried to get comfortable in the hard pews. The flimsy excuse they had for cushioning wasn’t cutting it, not after the long-ass night he had spent in your bed, and it was worth it. He had exhausted himself pleasuring you, spent hours eating you out and wringing orgasm after orgasm out of your destroyed pussy before slamming his hard hot dick into it making you cry his name over and over as he pulled several orgasms you didn’t know you had left in you. 

His back was aching, and he smirked to himself as he remembered that move he had done, that had you gasping loud enough to scare the dog. He still managed to impress even himself, in his middle age, that he could make a young thing like you lust after him like he was something like that Daryl Dixon fellow from the Walking Dead show. 

He felt a faint buzzing in his shirt pocket, he shifted as he grabbed his phone, feeling around for his non-existent reading glasses that he had left behind in his truck. He squinted, seeing your name flash on the screen- 

My girlfriend💕

When had you changed it? It used to be your name, but you had gotten ahold of his phone and put in something with hearts on it and crap that he couldn’t figure out how to fix. He brushed his thumb up, opening the screen and he frowned. You were sending him fruit? Peaches? 

🍑

Then it hit him. He remembered you trying to teach him about emojis. Peaches- they meant something but what? He racked his brain, trying to remember when the phone buzzed again, and his memory was suddenly and very thoroughly refreshed. 

Ass. 

More accurately, your ass framed by a gorgeous crotchless pair of panties, an butt plug in it,

Stretching myself nice and wide open for you

The one you had shown him last night, teasing him as you straddled him on the couch.

The phone vibrated again, and he could feel his dick hardening instantly, almost as if an Pavlovian response, anticipating more of your teasing. 

“Are you okay? Is it an emergency?” your brother asked, leaning into his shoulder as he scrambled to slide the phone into a pocket. 

“No- just a… busy day, lots of questions, because I’m gone.” he said, adding on some other excuse, his brother would buy it. He knew his brother would believe anything if it tied into work. It always worked, no one understood completely about work, but it was always a good excuse. 

A moment later he reached for his phone, adjusting himself discreetly and fixing his belt. His thumb flicked again, and there you were. 

Spread eagle on the coverlet, a delicate scrap of lace masquerading as a nightie- or was it shirt? He didn’t care, he was too focused on the nipples that lay underneath, adorned with – was it his tie? So that’s where his tie went, he thought to himself as his mouth went dry. 

All Tied Up ...

Six buzzes later, he was painfully hard and trying not to jump out of his seat every time he felt a buzz. 

It had gone from nudes, to close ups, to tiny, short videos. 

Now it was video, with audio. He had mistakenly opened one, and your quiet moaning and whimpering his name as he listened to you come, your wet pussy audibly being toyed with had filled his ears. He had scrambled for his bluetooth thing, jamming it into his ear. He was glad that he had learned enough about bluetooth to know it was streaming directly in his ear, and he listened to every bit of that video - twice- while the phone laid in his breast pocket, right next to his beating heart. 

“hot, mi hijo?” his mother asked, leaning forward as she looked at him with concern,  patting his knee and starting to fuss over him slightly. “You’re so flushed, are you all right?”

“Y– yeah, Imma go pee, cool off for a sec.” he said with a nod as he fidgeted slightly, making sure his rock-hard dick was hidden behind a bible he had grabbed to walk down the aisle quickly, nodding his apologies as he left into the foyer, his eyes checking for the closest bathroom. He suddenly turned, choosing to ditch the bible and sliding outside into the parking lot, sprinting for his truck. Leaping into the truck and slamming the door quietly, he let out a long sigh. 

Undoing his belt, his hands slid down as he tugged the zipper open. 

A knock on the door made him scream. 

You smirked at him, your eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Miss me?”

"Motherfucker...”

You slid into his truck, scooting forward and shutting the door. You immediately slide down to the floor, your mouth moving up to cover his cock and take him in your mouth before he could even say your name. 

His dick burned in your mouth, you could feel it pulsing with each beat of his heart. He was so rock hard, the cum starting to ooze out of the slit. Your tongue slid around it, tasting it delicately as your hand fondled his balls, and he let out a long sigh, a hand sliding down to brush your long hair out of your face, helping you set your rhythm. 

You could feel him hold back, you knew all he wanted to do was ram your mouth down on his dick, and make you take all of him down your throat. 

He was going to hell. 

It didn’t take long, his other hand finding its way to your wet pussy, fingers sliding in and out of your slit around your thong under the flimsy excuse of a sundress you had been wearing. His rhythm sped up to match your own ministrations, the both of you working in tandem to bring yourselves to orgasm almost at the same moment. 

“Fuck! Oh jesus. Fuck, what…” he gasped out, half afraid he was going to hell for coming in a church parking lot, the hot come shooting down your throat, you gulping down every drop as if your life depended on it. You had been thirsty for him all morning, and his come was like nectar of the gods, the heat warming your belly.  Your orgasm hit you right after, his hands moving just right, hitting the right spot to make you see stars, your walls squeezing his fingers so tightly, he wasn’t sure he could feel his fingers. 

“Oh god. We’re going to hell.” he said after a beat, half-laughing as he leaned back, catching his breath as you moved up from the bucket seat in the truck. “Baby, how did you find me?”

“Your phone.” you said with a laugh as you licked his come off your lips. You could see he would be hard again, just from the heated gaze you felt from his eyes on your lips. 

The loud chattering and bells brought the both of you back to reality. 

“Shitshitshitshit…” he muttered to himself as he tucked himself back in his jeans, did up his belt and shirt and became presentable again. He looked up, only to find you had disappeared. You were like a fucking ghost, but he didn’t care. He knew just where to find you later. 

His phone buzzed one last time as he was walking back to the church to help his mother set up for the seniors potluck. You had no panties on, your pussy dripping wet. He gulped, sliding a hand in his pocket and finding your panties, soaked with your juices from your orgasm he had given you earlier. He blushed, digging his hand deep in his pocket, making sure it wouldn't accidentally come out.

He knew just where to find you, and that fucking potluck couldn’t end soon enough so he could get back to business. Or rather, back to the business he would much rather attend to, rather than socialize with his mother and her friends at a church potluck, but he did have the pictures and videos to keep him company…

Until he nearly choked on his own drool, when you sent that video of you in his shirt using a toy to pleasure yourself, coming so hard you squirted all over his bed. 

“Ma. Go. Now.” 

[breezybangtanbebe]

Heaven: Changkyun❤️‍🔥

Tags: Monsta X's IM x Reader, long-distance relationship, lazy morning sex, kinda fluffy then kinda nasty, pussy eating..something short and sweet. :)

2.7k words

24 hours.

That was all the time you had with him and he had already wasted a third of it in bed.

The Miami humidity was less offensive from inside the luxury suite. Oceanview balconies welcomed in the breeze that morning as you lay tangled in sheets as white as the sands with your long-distance lover.

Changkyun was..busy, to say the least.

Promotions. Rehearsals. Fittings. Video shoots. Interviews. Fan meets. Group studio sessions. Solo studio sessions. Performances.

With all he and his group members had scheduled, it was out of sheer luck his managers granted the guys one full day of rest before they got to work on promoting their two new albums internationally.

Though being back in the states after such a long time seemed like a vacation, the young rapper had his fill of obligations and you couldn't bring yourself to be upset with him for choosing the first several hours of his rest day with you to be spent sleeping.

Ok, maybe you were a little mad.

Slightly pouty at best. But not at him, only at time and the lack thereof.

He deserved the rest after all.

It was barely noon and the room service you'd ordered for breakfast was surely cold when your boyfriend opened his eyes. You're seated upright in the large bed with the TV remote in hand, channel surfing in silence.

You were freshly showered, smelling like warm sugar and decadently scented body butter, shaved and exfoliated, and primed for a day of making up for the lost time. Considering how tired Changkyun was last night when he and his group members touched down in Florida, you didn't expect him to be actively intimate with you when you went to bed.

When you awoke that next morning, inhaling his warm masculine scent with your face nuzzled in his neck, you didn't mind the stillness or silence. After being separated for so long, it felt like heaven to finally be in his arms.

You were happy to be pressed against him with his leg slotted between yours, causing a teasing friction every time one of you stirred.

He felt so good. His skin was smooth and soft, contrasting his muscles that were firm and toned beneath it.

"G'mornin" Changkyun croaks from beside you, not even lifting his head as he pulled himself from his slumber.

You glance over to find him still smushed against the fluffed pillow with his jet black hair fanning over half of his face. All you can see are his dark pink sleep swollen lips as they moved.

"I smell peaches..." were his next words and you chuckle breathily as you shook your head.

"Good morning." You smirk, resuming your attention to the television only to turn it off. You weren't watching it anyway and you preferred to take advantage of the opportunity to talk. Changkyun groans tiredly as he rolls over on his back, running the palms of his large hands over his face.

"Fuck......how long have I been out?" he grimaced tiredly, leaving only one eye open to adjust to the daylight. You looked over at him fondly for a beat before responding.

"A while." is all you say, sounding much more resentful than you intended. Changkyun tenses at your tone and turns his head towards you with a lazy frown.

"Uh oh...You're mad," he states and you mirror his frown, shaking your head adamantly.

You watched Changkyun rise up from the pillows, shaking his bed head out until his long mane of black silk was falling over his perfect head in the sexiest way. His spine was curved as he sat up, making the lumps of his abs and chest protrude attractively.

Damn...

"No. Why would I be mad?" you respond distractedly.

"Because.......I fell asleep." Changkyun pauses to stretch his arms over his head midsentence.

"You came here straight from the airport babe...after an 18-hour flight." you point out, now leaning against the headboard and shamelessly admiring his body as he woke himself up fully.

After rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, Changkyun lets out a strained sigh before plopping back against his pillow again. You smirk at how he did all of that for nothing.

"And you're obviously still tired so..." you trail off, not even wanting to finish your sentence since it would add insult to injury.

"Nope! I'm up...I'm up... Tired or not, we only have half a day left together.." Changkyun groans tiredly, his words muffled slightly as he rubbed his hands over his face again in an attempt to wipe the sleepiness away. 

"Not really. I mean I'll be here for as long as you all are in Miami." you shrug and Changkyun wrinkles his nose in disagreement.

"Yeah but then I'll be too busy or too tired to spend time with you. It'll be more nights like last night. Coming in late and going to bed soon after." he almost whines. The guilt and regret in his tone are enough to make you feel like a turd for showing any signs of disappointment.

He really was working hard and the distance wasn't just hard on you. He missed you too and when this opportunity for you to be together came about, he was more excited than you to board that flight.

"Hey.....I knew what I signed up for. I'll be here for as long as you are. If that means the bulk of our alone time is to be spent in bed, laying together, I'm ok with that." you shrug, actually believing what you were saying for once.

Changkyun squints at you incredulously.

"You sure?"

You nod at him with a soft smirk.

"It can deal with it. One of the few of cons being with you."

At that, Changkyun's eyes widen in offense and amusement.

"Cons??? ....with an 's'? As in plural? More than one?" he asks, his tone climbing with each question. You laughed at his expression and roll your eyes as you moved to get up from the bed.

"Oooh, yea. You think being IM's secret lil girlfriend is a walk in the park?" you toss over your shoulder on your way across the suite. Changkyun sits up just enough to watch your thickly toned legs move as you walked, keying in on the way the shirt you wore barely concealed your ass cheeks beneath it.

"I mean. Not really but..." he murmurs, trailing off and tilting his head to get a different view of your curvaceous body.  From up close and under the covers, Changkyun hadn't realized you were basically naked underneath that loosely fit shirt. Well, his loosely fit shirt. One of the many you'd sifted through from his luggage. It was always comforting to have his scent on your skin, even when he was laying next to you.

Knowing now that you were naked made any trace of jet lag or fatigue fade, waking up other parts of him as he watched you venture across the room in the direction of the outlet where your phone was charging.

Your nudity is further confirmed when you bend over thoughtlessly to pick it up, exposing your naked ass and the slit of your lips to him for only a second. As you stand and turn to the side, the shape of your full breasts and nipples poke through the thin fabric, and Changkyun stares shamelessly as you checked for any missed notifications.

God, he loved your body.

Dreamt of it almost every moment he wasn't with you in Korea.

Spent countless nights envisioning it as he stroked himself repeatedly, calling your name as he came in his hand, and doing his best to ignore the heartache he felt once the haze faded.

But now, you weren't just a beautiful part of his imagination.

You were here.

A few seconds pass and you were making your way back to join Changkyun in bed, mindlessly texting away in response to your friends that had been checking in with you since landing in Miami. As you resumed your spot beside him, Changkyun watched you settle back against the pillows with your phone still in hand. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth while you sent your final text, setting the phone aside on the nearby dresser.

You felt his eyes on you immediately and glance over with a smirk.

"What?" you perk your brow. For a moment Changkyun doesn't respond, only dragging his heated gaze over your body appreciatively. His mouth shrugs innocently before laying his head back down against his pillow.

"Oh, nothing...Hey, why is it that every time you move...I suddenly have the strongest craving for peaches....." he asks randomly.  You grunt softly in amusement at his question and shake your head.

"You probably just smell me. I took a long shower before you woke up..." you shrug nonchalantly, not expecting Changkyun's interest to be peaked by the small fact.

"Foreal?..come here?"

Without warning, Changkyun reaches out to pull you towards him by the neck. He nuzzles you playfully while inhaling the sweet scent of your clean skin, making you giggle and push back against him.

"Now you know I'm ticklish..." you complain lightly while trying to escape his hold, only encouraging Changkyun to pull you into him tighter and chuckle mischievously against your skin.

His lips were pillow soft on your neck, the tip of his nose brushing just beneath your jawline as he inhaled the soft peaches and cream scent. His new favorite smell on you next to his. His hands held the fabric of his shirt firmly, trapping you against his body as he kissed up and over your jaw until his lips were on yours.

He tasted surprisingly fresh despite having woken up a few minutes ago and you allowed yourself to melt into him with every luscious peck. He sucks at your bottom lip before taking it between his teeth, making you moan at the sting.

He releases it to resume the languid dance between your tongues, sighing in contentment as his hands snuck beneath the shirt covering your body. The moment he touches your bare skin, you flinch in reaction to the chills they inspired as if electricity flowed through his fingers.

He squeezes your hip and allows his grip to travel lower to cup your ass cheek, pushing the shirt higher from your body.

"Take it off.." he whispers against your lips and you immediately comply, pulling away so that you could pull the loose shirt over your head. The moment it's gone, Changkyun's mouth is on you again. Starting at your lips, he pecks them softly before returning to your neck. His hands glided up your waist as he moved to guide you back against the mattress.

You allow him to dominate you gently, sinking into the pillows and opening your legs as he settled between them. The weight of his body is comforting and your hands stroke the skin of his back as his lips traveled downward.

The middle of your throat.

The center of your chest.

Over your left nipple briefly. Then to the right.

As he sucked the pebbled flesh into his mouth, you grind your body against that stiffness in his underwear. He was hard and thicker than you remembered if that were even possible.

You angled your hips in a way that makes the fabric between your bodies seem thinner than air and Changkyun groans with your nipple still caught between his lips. He pulls away to flick his tongue over it a few more times before abandoning it to attend to the annoying shred of clothing blocking him.

He settles between your legs and takes a moment to admire you beneath him. You blush under his gaze, feeling it hover over the swelling pink flesh between your legs.

He wastes no time in scooting down to push them back and smother the heat thar gathered with his mouth and tongue. You gasp on contact, eyes already rolling back at the feeling of Changkyun's tongue sliding sinuous flat licks over your folds.

The warmth of his opened mouth kisses on your clit has you moaning softly to the ceiling and Changkyun digs his fingers into the meat of your thighs as he ate.

His deft tongue plunges inside of you while his thumb rubs rhythmically over your clit, just the way he remembered you loved it. His eyes are on you, watching you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut with the struggle of holding on.

Suddenly, your fuse is blown and in an explosion of colorful language, you came all over Changkyun's waiting tongue. He presses his thumb against the hood of your clit while your walls twitched and pulsed around him, savoring the taste of your climax with a satisfied groan.

You were still panting when he pulled his mouth away from your pussy and the mattress bounces slightly as he sat up on his knees.

The print beneath his shorts was prominent as fuck and Changkyun hurriedly frees himself from its captivity. Your eyes immediately fall on his dick as he pushed his black Balenciaga boxer briefs down his toned thighs.

He's already got you wet and wanting him, legs still spread wide to accommodate his body.

There's an unspoken plea between the two of you and Changkyun responds to it by grasping your thighs and pulling you towards him over the sheets. In the same movement, the tip of his dick slides past your entrance and stretches you well until you're pressed firmly against his pelvis.

From here, he goes in. Mindlessly fucking you like there's no tomorrow. As if all of his frustrations from being away from you, having to love you from a distance, wishing he could be inside of you every night, were all being channeled through him.

Boosting his stamina.

Feeding his need to make you call his name.

Which you did. Over and over as he drove your body back up to the head of the bed.

You felt so good. Warm and wet. Tight and welcoming. It was like you were made for him and the distance hadn't affected a thing. Muscle memory molded you around his thick shaft and you took every inch of him like you were designed to do. His forehead was pressed against yours, noses touching and mouths agape as his rhythm hastened. Your walls were clenching at his pressure hungrily and your voice was reduced to barely audible yelps.

Your body trembled endlessly as you reached your climax and Changkyun smiled wolfishly against your parted lips.

"Yep, that's it. Gimme that shit, baby. Let it go.." he coaxed and praised you through the mind-numbing orgasm he rewarded you with. He continues pounding into you until tears pooled from your eyes and you weren't sure if you'd cum again from the sheer overstimulation.

All you knew was that everything he did, every move and rasped word he spoke, he was pushing you higher than you ever thought you could go.

Holding you close, Changkyun rolled his hips into you feverishly until he was stalling out. An unbearably sexy groan escapes his lips when he came deep inside of you and you took every drop of him with pleasure, squeezing him as he stroked you to his completion.

"Fuuuuck, I missed you...I missed you so much.." his husky deep voice whispers lovingly in your ear and you moan softly in response as he pressed himself deep inside of you for emphasis.

"I love you...fuck, I love you..." he continued, his voice almost breaking with the known profession. As he comes down with his face buried in your neck, Changkyun plants a series of lazy wet kisses over your sweat-coated skin.

When his teeth graze that same ticklish spot, you giggle and shy away from him. He grumbles in protest but promptly ceases his tease to rest his head on the pillow you shared.

He remains inside of you, his body weight nearly smothering you. But you didn't care.

Because being with him in any way felt like heaven.

And you were happy to die...

*sigh* hes so FFFFFFFFFOYNE