#also this was my wife’s actual bedroom when we first met

[fluttersharpi]

A peek into the Dashie Den.. 💙💛🥤

[authorhjk1]

30 days

(Irene x Male Reader ft. TripleS Nakyoung)

Trigger warning: cheating

You were destined to fail. No way in hell would you be able to survive this ridiculous challenge. You knew that from day one. Especially with such a gorgeous wife like Irene.

The two of you had a bet going. Throughout November, neither of you were allowed to cum. The loser would face severe punishment. Which would be nothing new to you. But up until 10 minutes ago, you thought you had a chance to succeed. A slim chance. But a chance nonetheless. It could've been the first time in your life having the upper hand in the bedroom. Up until now, Irene always was in control. She always decided when and where and how often.

Which was fine to you, until around two months ago. Irene started to pay less attention to sex. The two times a week became once a week. And then, you went a couple of weeks without proper sex at all.

You were about to get worried. Rightfully so. Irene is a gorgeous, beautiful, sexy woman. And you know you aren't the best lover in the world, but it always seemed like Irene was satisfied with you.

Luckily, she suddenly brought up the topic of participating in this year's NNN challenge. No sex, no masturbating, no cumming for 30 days. Your reward? The chance of doing something, you've always wanted to do. Have sex with Irene the way you want to. Maybe for once be in control.

But all that now seems to almost suffocate you as you lie on your and your wife's bed. Your eyes staring up at the ceiling, but you're not really looking at it. Your crotch covered in cum, your dick already softening again. Your phone in your left hand.

You glance at it again. You couldn't help yourself. You met her a couple of days ago while picking up Irene from her music show appearance. The younger woman was talking to you, maybe even flirting? Now that you think back at it, that could've actually been possible.

Kim Nakyoung looked like a tease with those shorts that showed off her thighs. That shirt that showed off that midriff. And that tie that almost seemed to beg you to pull on it.

She was already sexy in person. But when you saw this picture 10 minutes ago, you knew you had lost.

You still remember all the things you thought about doing to her, which Irene would never let you do. Bend Nakyoung over a table, or just have your way with her, while she's on all fours on your bed. Making her ride your cock, while doing those body rolls she did during her performance. Even trying out how tight her ass is. And finally finishing off by painting her face, while Nakyoung plays with her clit at the same time.

You sigh heavily. Maybe Irene doesn't have to know? Would she ever find out if you just get yourself together and walk back into the living room? While still thinking about keeping your loss a secret, you hear the door open.

Before you can even blink, Irene is standing the room.

"What do we have here?"

An amused, slightly derogatory smile plays around the corners of her mouth. Almost as if she knew you were gonna lose.

"I-I think I lost."

"Oh, I can see that."

Her eyes move to your phone.

"Even thinking about someone else?"

"It's not what it looks like."

You're afraid Irene would take it the wrong way, but she just looks at you, waiting for an explanation.

"I just thought about doing stuff to her, which I'd never do to you."

"Why, because it's dirty?"

You want to say that it's mainly because she doesn't let you do it, but you're not brave enough to say that.

"Yes. While it's hot, I would never want to see my wife doing stuff like that."

"Of course not."

Her amused smile makes you feel warm, but also guilty. The fact that you're still lying here like this, the fact that you lost, the fact that you thought of someone else. You know Irene's punishment for you won't be a small one.

The last days of November have arrived and you've grown more worried by the second. Irene never told you when or where or how you'd face your punishment. At first, you thought it was gonna be December 1st or November 30th. But you could be wrong as well.

When you arrive at the cafeteria to start your lunch break, you keep picturing an angry Irene making you suffer for hours on end, before finally letting you cum. Halfway through your meal, you get a message from Irene, which is quite unusual. She knows you're working around this time and she might be working too right now as well.

"Today is the day."

You swallow hard, knowing that when you're coming home today, you're done for. Even more fantasies and hellish punishments invade your mind. Irene once mentioned she'd love to try out something that involves pain. She might've been talking about herself, but you're not so sure about that anymore.

You almost drop your fork, when she sends you a picture of herself. Your wife is basically only wearing lingerie. A black see through crop top, showing off her porcelain like skin underneath. You can clearly see her tits and her nipples. All of that barely concealed by the black flower patterns on the fabric. Her tight midriff makes you unconsciously rest your hand in your lap. Her panties are black lace as well. They appear to be see through too, but the black flowers hide her lower lips. The black stockings end in a flower pattern as well. They look tight, making it seem like her thighs are thicker than usual. Irene's black heels make her look taller and her legs longer.

Seeing that she's dressed in all black confirms your suspicion. You'll get punished today. You're glad she isn't holding a whip or anything. Maybe she's just hiding that?

"You better come home now. Or your punishment will be worse tonight."

Taking the second half of the day off was an easy decision. Not just in fear for what's to come if you don't, but also because of your excitement. You've never seen her in that outfit before and you just want to look at her wearing that in person.

When you pull into your drive way, you notice someone's bike standing near the front door. Looks like Irene ordered lunch for the two of you. You already had lunch earlier, but you don't mind eating again. Getting out of the car and walking towards your house, you realize that the door is slightly open. Where is the delivery guy anyway?

Maybe he is inside, waiting for Irene to pay? But wouldn't she have money on her and wouldn't he normally wait outside? You feel a little uncertain as you open the front door fully.

You step out of your shoes and hang up your jacket. You still don't see anyone.

Entering the living room, you freeze.

Your wife is kneeling on the floor. Kneeling between another man's legs, who's sitting on your couch. His pants are lying next to him. And Irene has her hands on his thighs and her lips around his cock.

"I-Irene?"

You're standing to her right as she looks up. You don't know what kind of reaction you expected. But you definitely didn't expect her to lift her head and give you a smile, while she keeps stroking him.

"Hi, babe. This is your punishment."

You still can't believe this is actually happening. Your wife is sucking off someone else? In your house? Not even bothered by you watching her?

You don't know what to do as you see her taking him into her mouth again. You don't want to watch, but for some reason you can't look away. You feel disgusted when the delivery guy puts his hand on your wife's head. He guides her up and down on his cock.

You take a step back, your legs hitting the armchair behind you. The sound makes Irene lift her head to look at you. But the man's hand pushes her further down his length instead. You hold your breath. Irene would've killed you for that, but you see her just smiling up at him, his cock now deeper in her mouth.

The man hasn't even acknowledged your presence yet. He stays focused on Irene, watching her giving him head.

You still try to find the right words. Something heavy seems to be stuck in your throat. You don't want to scream. Or cry. Or do anything. You just silently watch how your wife lets her head bob up and down the delivery guy's cock.

Soon, you notice Irene's top is missing. Her perky tits are exposed, slightly glistening with her own spit. Another string of saliva falls off her lips as she quickens her pace. The guy's groan makes your stomach twist. You catch the sparkling wedding ring on Irene's finger as her hand strokes his base.

How could she do something like this? She seemed distant from time to time, especially recently. But you never expected Irene to cheat on you. And you never thought she would let someone have this control over her.

The sounds of her lips gliding along his wet shaft and her humming around his length fill the room. You don't know for how long you've been watching her already. A minute? Two?

"Irene."

Her name weakly leaves your lips once more.

Your wife finally lifts her head off his cock again. A string of saliva connecting her lips with his tip. It tears as she leans away a little.

"Don't act all surprised. You should've seen this coming, really."

"W-What? Why?"

You sound weak, almost whining.

"It was fun with you at first, but I'm getting over it."

Irene keeps stroking the guy's cock, while talking to you, spreading her saliva everywhere.

"What do you mean? We're married."

"So? That doesn't mean I can't have some fun."

"Fun? You're cheating!"

Your emotions are mixed between anger and sadness. Irene seems like a stranger to you now.

"It's not cheating, if you watch."

"Of course it is!"

Irene rolls her eyes.

"Don't be such a baby. Watch or leave. Choice is yours."

"But-"

You don't continue as your wife starts to ignore you again. She takes the guy's cock back into her mouth, her lips now tightly sealed around his shaft.

You don't know what to do. Stay or leave? You watch her closing her eyes and gliding along his length slowly. She only makes that face when she enjoys her food very much. Her eyebrows furrow a little.

Finally sinking into the armchair, you try to look away. You feel like your body is to weak to keep you standing.

"Oh, fuck. That feels amazing."

The man's words make you look back at Irene. You can see how her tongue moves inside her mouth, occasionally bulging her cheeks.

"You like that?"

Irene lets go of his cock and looks up at him.

"You like it when I suck you off like this?"

"Fuck, yes."

The delivery guy takes her face into his hands and guides her back onto his cock. You watch with wide eyes as he seems to thrust up into her mouth, while making her head move up and down as well. Irene never let you take control, she never let you fuck her face. But she's now letting this stranger do it. You can see how he makes her take all of his cock, her lips meeting his base with every thrust. When you hear her gag, you close your eyes. You don't want to see or hear it. But the gagging only becomes louder as he now properly fucks her face.

Once he lets go of her again, Irene looks up at him.

"Your cock has me so wet. I want it in my pussy."

Your eyes shoot open again. You're unable to comprehend what she just said. A blowjob was already too much. And now she wants him to actually fuck her.

You see him helping her onto the couch. It seems it's on purpose the way the two of them position each other. Irene now directly faces you on the couch on all fours.

Most of the time, when the two of you had sex, Irene usually just rode your cock. She was always in control. But now you watch how she purposefully arches her back and raises her ass higher. The man, now kneeling behind her, reaches for her panties and pulls them off of her. Irene smiles when she sees you following his movements.

"Don't worry, baby. I still love you."

Her words sound wrong to you. She's saying one thing, but doing the complete opposite.

"Just let me have this once in a while."

"But-"

Irene interrupts you as the the man makes her moan by licking her pussy. You can't directly see it. But his hands on her ass and his head right behind her leave little to the imagination. Your wife's face contorts in pleasure. She's tightly holding onto the cushion in front of her, her long dark hair partially covering her face. You hear the delivery guy eat out your wife and you can't find any words. You have nothing to say.

"Damn, give it to me."

Irene's moans make you want to cover your ears. But the way she looks at you has you paralyzed. She looks so satisfied, so turned on. You've never really seen her like that before.

When the man gets back up, you hold your breath.

"Make me take it."

Irene sighs, looking straight at you.

The two of you lock eyes. Your wife bites her lower lip. You can see the exact moment when his cock enters your wife. Her mouth falls open, her eyes grow wider. A deep moan leaves her body.

Irene's face shows you exactly how deep he's inside of her. When he hits her limit, Irene's brows are furrowed and she bites her lip.

"You cunt is fucking tight."

You never thought you'd hear another man say these words about your wife. She only responds with a moan as he moves back, before thrusting into her again.

After a short while he really starts to fuck Irene like you never did. She always told you she doesn't like to have sex like that. Makes her look like a slut. But now that man is reaching forward to take a fistful of her hair.

"You like getting fucked by someone else in front of your husband?"

The question leaves your heart aching as he pulls on her hair, making your wife arch her back further.

"Yes, I love it. Make me your whore."

His thrusts become faster and you seem to sink even deeper into the armchair. It's not like you can blame this man. If a woman like Irene would throw herself at you like this, you wouldn't be able to resist too. But why does she let him do this to her?

"I'm gonna ruin your pussy."

"Yes, you own it now. Ruin it!"

Her moans make you shake your head in disbelief. You still can't understand why she'd do this. Aren't you enough for her? If she'd let you, you'd do this too.

"Baby..."

You look at her, when you hear her calling for you.

"Don't look so sad. I'm trying to save our marriage here."

"What? This is the exact opposite of-"

Once more Irene's loud moans cut you off.

What did she mean by that? That she'd leave you, if you don't let her have sex with other men?

"I just - yes, right there! - need a big cock once in a while to show me my place."

"But..can't I do that?"

Irene ignores your question, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the delivery guy hits the perfect spot. She doesn't talk for a while, only moaning and gasping as he keeps pounding her from behind.

"Irene?"

You call her name again, but she doesn't respond. Her head drops between her shoulders as he lets go off her hair. A loud clap echoes through the room as his hand meets her ass.

"Fuck, yes! Spank me! Punish me!"

Irene's face is a combination of happiness and pleasure. Her smile is replaced every other second by a deep moan.

Another spank. You can see how her right cheek jiggles for a moment.

"Spank me harder, make it hurt."

When you watch the delivery guy fucking and spanking your wife, you finally realize how hot Irene looks right now. She'd look just as good when you'd fuck her like this, but she never let you. You kinda see her in a new light. She always looked sexy. Now she looks slutty. Which makes her even hotter for some reason.

"God, yes!"

Only now do you catch yourself staring at your hand, which is slowly rubbing your crotch. Looking back up, you see how the guy has reached underneath Irene. His left hand gropes and plays roughly with her perky tits, while the other still hits her cheeks. Over and over again, the sound echoes through the living room.

"You like this, slut? You like it when I play with your little tits?"

"Yes, use my body. Touch me."

Your wife's words reach your ears and you have to stop yourself from opening your pants. It hurt to see her like that at first, but now you have that urgent need to touch yourself. To play with yourself while watching your wife getting fucked.

Irene's eyes sparkle in amusement when she catches you rubbing your crotch. A mischievous smile plays around her lips.

"It's fine, baby. You lost this bet anyway. You can jerk off, if you want."

You feel shame warming your cheeks. You never thought you'd actually even consider this. But when the delivery guy grabs Irene's arms and pulls them up from underneath her body, you can't hold it back. You slowly undo your pants as he fucks your wife from behind. Her upper body in the air, her arms behind her as he holds onto them. You watch her head bounce with every thrust as you take out your cock.

"I knew you'd like it, baby. Just relax and enjoy the show."

The man fucks Irene harder now, probably turned on by you jerking off to the two of them. She has to close her mouth to not bite into her tongue, her head continuously moving around.

"Take my cock, slut. I want you to make me cum."

His words make you stroke yourself faster. Irene is probably trying to flex her muscles, wanting to hug his cock even tighter.

"Fuck, just like that."

He groans and you catch Irene's smile, whenever her face isn't covered by her hair, which is flying around in the rhythm to his thrusts.

As you keep jerking off, you notice how hot Irene really looks right now. You get into it more, watching how your wife gets fucked. He is rougher with her than you ever could be.

"I'm gonna cum soon."

His words make you stroke yourself faster.

"Where do you want to cum?"

You never heard this question before. You're curious about the answer.

"Your face."

He lets go off Irene's arms, making her fall onto the couch. You watch how she quickly slides to the ground, kneeling and waiting for him to stand up. You see her side profile, her mouth open.

The delivery guy strokes his cock, which is slick with her juices. He aims it right at her. You feel yourself getting closer already too.

It doesn't take much longer. When he orgasms, he shoots his load all over your wife's face and into her mouth. Irene gasps and tries to get all of it. Her hand replaces his, trying to get every last drop.

You follow quickly after, making a mess of yourself, like you did a couple of days ago.

When Irene finally turns to you, you can see how her face is full of cum.

"To be honest with you, honey, this wasn't our first time."

"What?"

You ask weakly, still recovering from your own orgasm.

"You were right earlier. I've been cheating on you. But now it's not cheating anymore, if you keep watching us."

You see her using her finger to scoop up his cum.

"F-For how long already?"

Irene sucks the cum off her finger, before smiling at you, most of her face still covered.

"30 days."

------------------

Hi, everyone! Just something small for the end of NNN. I thought I'd try out something new. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me now what you think.

Stay healthy!

[hoe4sports]

How this ends p3

Alexia Putellas x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Thank you to @karsonromanoff for giving me inspiration and ideas for this part.

A note from the author: This is the third part of how this ends based off of Lewis Capaldi’s how this ends. Read the part’s chronologically. I have changed the age of them becoming a pair to 13, in order to make the story make more sense. Part four coming soon.

Also, fuck me, this was really shit.

Warnings: A lot of talking.

Summary: It’s been a few months since Alexia broke up with you and you handed over your promise ring to her. You and Frido make plans for the summer.

-

You found yourself sat in Frido’s spare bedroom, but by now; it was practically your bedroom. The thing about Fridolina was that you met her ages ago. Frido had been in the room when Alexia had told you that she had to miss out on an event she had promised to be a plus one to. It made you feel sad, but as the good girlfriend you were; you kept it inside. Fridolina had then suggested that she could tag along, which you happily agreed to. It was your first time being invited to such a big prestigious event so having someone familiar there was a big safety thing for you. The event was an invitation only charity event by the Red Cross. To your luck, Fridolina had actually volunteered for the organisation back in Sweden which lead her to be your first reserve.

The pair of you instantly hit it off, and from that moment; you were inseparable. She was what could’ve been described as a soul sister, the kind of friend that just gets you.

It had now been 2 months since you walked out of your Alexia’s apartment with everything you ever knew packed up in cardboard boxes that was shipped off to a storage unit until you could figure your life out. You hadn’t seen Alexia, not that you had made much of an effort. It felt like an emptiness, that slowly had started to close. The costs of it were clear, you stayed away from her part of the town. More so, you had avoided going to the places she would usually go.

Being the girlfriend of a famous athlete wasn’t for everyone, and you sure felt the statement in your bones. You see, you and Alexia had been together since you were teens. She had promised you a ring, a big white wedding, kids and a real house. Instead you got 10 years worth of waiting, a cat and an apartment not suitable for children. People had made up competitions based off of when Alexia would purpose to you, when you would have kids or what your next pet would be. The plans you had were now placed on the back burner.Life had just spun out in the worst possible scenario, but Frido was on a mission to help you heal.

“Y/N! Are you awake?”

You huffed and covered your head with the fluffy pillow hoping she would go away.

“Ugh, you are taking to long. Hide your titties, I’m coming in!”

You looked over at the door which a second later had Frido barging out of it. You giggled at her silly little manoeuvre. Her face showed off a surprised grin before she walked to the window and pulled the curtain apart to let sunlight in. She then turned around and laid down in the big bed next to you, while you kept looking at her.

“How are we feeling today, Y/N?”

“Like shit”

“Y/n..”

“Okay, fine. I’m feeling a bit less empty. More like, half full than half empty actually.”

“Do I sense a sliver of positivity? Have I just discovered something we thought was extinct?” Frido teased with a fake surprised grin, and you playfully shoved her shoulder while staring up at the ceiling.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not sure where to begin. What to do about my job, you know? My job is social media, sadly built on being the girlfriend of a famous footballer”

“I have a solution”

Frido looked mischievous, and you could see the trouble a million miles away.

“Oh god, now what?”

“Until I can find a way to become keen on women so I can wife you up, then I’m sure some of the girls on the team would be happy to bag you! How about Jenni? Cata? Ona? Or, I think I even have the phone number of Leah Williamson and Mary Earps!”

Frido fished the phone out of her pocket and demonstrated by going through her contact list loudly. You just rolled your eyes at her again before giggling.

«Oh, Mackenzie Arnold! No, wait, she’s dating that aussie Girl»

«Okay wait, Ada Hegeberg? No, no. She’s straight and old.”

“Maybe this is the one! Lucy Bronze! No, that would be so weird”

“But, what about Alana Kennedy or Claire? You’d get to hang out with the Mathildas and I’m sure mini’s wife would love a extra set of hands”

“Wait, no, girl! Here, Jessie Fleming! She’s hot, and I’m pretty sure she likes all the photos you post!”

Frido was ass deep in her phone which made you smile at her. You loved her silliness. It always seemed to bring some joy into your life. Her suggestions were out of pure love and you could spend forever listening to her.

“Fridolina, I appreciate the effort but unless you are about to turn gay, then I think I’m taking a break from the whole dating a football player thing; didn’t seem to work out for me”

Frido stuck her tongue out playfully at you, before looking down at her phone again.

“How about that rugby player from the Olympics?Ilona Maher! Oh, wait. Straight. But then, what about the rower from Germany?”

You playfully smacked her in the back of her head with a pillow before Frido put her phone down and sighted. Frido dramatically threw her hands in the air while gesturing dramatically.

“You are gonna be alone until you turn 50! That cannot happen! I wanna be your bridesmaid, i wanna be a moster!

“Well, you might have a chance now since I’m not with alexia anymore. She wasn’t planning to purpose anytime soon, and she was for sure not having kids within the next 5 years. She’s gonna die alone with a bunch of cats while refusing to retire”

You looked at Frido; Frido looked at you while holding her head up. There was a silence before a smile appeared on both of your faces. You both broke into a laugh and laid down next to each other again.

“How about we go to breakfast? I’ll treat you”

You smiled. If there was anything you loved, it was to go out for breakfast. You hadn’t gone out for breakfast since you and Alexia were at least 2 years younger. The truth was that you missed it.

“I haven’t gone out for breakfast in forever. Alexia didn’t want to because of the calories”

Frido furrowed her brows in annoyance of Alexia.

“Fuck the calories, Fuck Alexia, I work hard to be able to have them”

You let out a chuckle.

“I think I have had enough of fucking Alexia for a lifetime, babe”

-

You found yourself sat down by the window in this beautiful little cafe. It had an almost magical view of the park with a river slithering through it and a view of the little playground. The sun was beaming outside, and it was peaking out from the lace curtains hanging from the ceiling.

The coffees you ordered arrived, and you took a sip of yours before breaking out in a disappointed grin. The grin on your face caused Frido to giggle, nearly spilling out the contents of her cup. She looked at your cup, and back at hers before pushing her cup towards you. You took a sip and instantly felt satisfied. Your eyes were practically seeing stars. Frido smiled before accepting your cup as hers. The gesture made your heart swell with pride of your bestfriend. Alexia hadn’t done anything like that for you since you were teens.

“You know how they say that women see it coming? I honestly think that I did see it coming, and that’s why I’m doing okay. It’s weird, but she was spilling away for years. She forgot all dates and dinners, and she would tell me that i could just go to be because she was gonna be home late. Like, it feels like the love died before our relationship did.”

“I get that, isn’t it like an intuition thing? I’m pretty sure i saw a tiktok about it from a psychiatrist earlier.”

“Intuition? Interesting. I guess you could say that, I mean, I’m sad of course. Anyone would be. But then again, I’m okay with her decision. I’ve come to terms with it. If she didn’t love me anymore, then it’s better that she ended things.”

“It’s just so odd, Y/N. I don’t understand why she ended things with you. She makes it seem like you weren’t together for over 10 years.”

“That’s actually funny, she never gave me a reason! Perhaps I didn’t do her laundry well enough or maybe my cooking is shit.”

You frowned a bit when things about all the things you probably did wrong. Frido raised an eyebrow before letting out a short laugh.

“What are you even on about, you mad woman! Your cooking is elite. You have better housewife skills than my mom. Gud, if i ever encounter the woman then i might have to end her.”

You laughed softly at Frido until you noticed that the server was coming over with two steaming plates. She sat them down in front of you and you looked up at Frido who were grinning from ear to ear.

“This looks delish! Devine! If I were out on the deathrow, this would be my last meal.” Frido joked while studying her plate.

“Let me take a quick story of you and the food, pretty please?”

Frido raised her brow at you in confusion. The worry in your pit appeared, but was quickly erased by Frido’s reassuring words.

“Babe, you don’t have to ask. I’ve already said that! You support my work by coming to games, even Sweden games. I support your work by appearing on your socials. Alexia really did rearrange your head, is that why she suddenly never appeared on your socials?”

You nodded before raising your shoulders. Your phone was grabbed from the table and Frido did a wink to you when you turned the frame in her direction. You placed down you phone before stabbing the pancake with your fork and dipping it in the Canadian syrup. The meal went on, and you talked about everything from your work to when Frido’s next international match was going to take place.

“The match is set for July 11th, it’s a home game at first before the return in Ireland.”

You nodded eagerly while having strawberries filling your mouth.

“I’m planning to head out a few days earlier. You know, to see Morsan and Pappa. My grandparents have also been missing me.”

You swallowed down the berries before taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh, how are things with Simon now? Is he still busy being needy?”

“Haha, I guess I didn’t tell you! I ended things with him, it just wasn’t working out”

You raised your brow in confusion before putting your fork down.

“But you were so in love just a few months ago go? What happened?”

Frido shrugged her shoulders while leaning backwards to her chair.

“It wasn’t really love, more like a friendly kind of love. I don’t really think I ever felt in love with him, you know. The butterflies kind of love?”

You nodded at her while giving her a sincere smile.

“Hot girl summer it is then!”

Frido laughed at you before smiling widely. The pair of you started eating before Frido’s head suddenly popped up towards you.

“Girl, you should come with me to Sweden! You can meet my family, I can show you my childhood memories and you can join me to Ireland! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You looked at her, slightly skeptical.

“Are you sure? Not to be a party pooper, but have you asked the team?”

“I’m sure they’ll just be happy to have a social media specialist joining us! Besides, there are some pretty good looking girls on the squad.”

Frido winked before you giggled again. Nobody could make you laugh like Frido.

-

A few weeks later you were sitting in your temporary bedroom at Frido’s while editing some content for your social media. It was an event you did a few months prior with an organisation that has volunteers who cleans the beaches. It was all done as a part of their summer campaign, and the deadline was creeping up on you. The issue was that Alexia had tagged along on the event, and you watched clips of you filing vlog style while other clips were filmed by a crew.

The clips made you feel numb, but this was work and it was already a done deal. You had already signed it, and Alexia had agreed to it earlier. You made a mental note to send Alexia a text about the video coming out before it was live. It was the last content you had of the pair of you together and quite a few of the huge amount of followers you had, had started questioning it. You had always been all about transparency, but this time it was different. This was personal, and it was something that needed time. At the same time, you felt like the fans deserved honesty from you.

You write down in your book to talk to your PR adviser about how to address it in the meeting that was coming up in a few days. But what was also coming up in a few days, was your trip with Frido. The excitement has finally started blossoming when she got the green light from her national team, and the trip could’nt have come at a better time.

“Y/N, hide your titties, I’m coming in!”

You giggled as Frido walked in with her hands over her eyes.

“You are all clear babe, no titties out. Besides when have I ever had my titties out?”

You asked in a sassy tone. Frido peeked through her hands before looking at you innocently while shrugging. She flopped onto your bed right next to you and pulled out her phone. She sat for a moment while you edited before she broke the silence.

“So, Alexia came to practice today”

You could feel your stomach drop to the ground. Your suddenly good mood turned into clouds and thunder.

“Good for her”

“Well, yes. But that’s besides the point. She asked about you.”

You felt yourself becoming protective and hostile when her name was mentioned. How dare she ask about you when she broke up with you? It made your blood boil, and your cheeks rushed with blood. You closed your MacBook before looking at Frido.

“What did she want?”

Frido looked at you.

“Do you want me to tell you the truth or what you want to hear?”

“The truth”

“She asked if she could come over to talk to you, and she handed me this. She said it belonged to you, that you forgot it behind.”

You looked at Frido with anger in your eyes. It was building up rapidly, like steam was about to come flying out of your ears. You couldn’t form a sentence, not even say a word. Frido looked apologetically at you.

“I’m sorry babe; but this is all yours. I’m gonna hop into the shower, i have dinner with Cata and Caro soon”

She moved to stand on her knees in the bed before she kissed the top of your head and walk out of the room, closing the door behind her. You looked at the box Alexia had sent with her, and you wanted to burn it up. You wanted to destroy it, to throw it off a cliff and to hand it in to a charity shop. Whatever was left in the box was something that you had been perfect without.

You sat and stared at the box for a good 30 minutes debating on whether to open it or not. The decision ended up on leaning into your natural curious side. You pulled the lid of the box before closing your eyes and holding the box infront of your face.

Your eyes opened up with a squint, scared to see what was inside.

The first thing you pulled up was a picture of your cat. Gosh, you thought to yourself. I’m going to get him back.

You reached into the box and found a picture of you and Alexia. It was taken at a water park when you were 14, and your families had decided to do a shared vacation.

Then your hand found a little box.

You picked it up and shook it.

You immediately knew what was inside.

The lid was pushed off.

There it was.

In all its shining glory.

The band of Alexia’s promise ring.

You instinctively closed your eyes.

You picked it up and turned it around to face you while having your eyes closed.

You flipped it around towards you.

You opened your eyes in agony.

Wrong.

It is your promise ring.

Or.

It was your promise ring.

[coco-loco-nut]

loml

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: a journey through your relationship with max

a/n: so for a little background... my ex (he wasn't an F1 fan, it was never gonna work, let's be real) broke up with me the night before this album was released, so writing this series has been very healing; however, this one was extremely difficult to write bc it's the only song i can't analytically listen to and find the deeper meanings yet, especially after losing your first love. sorry for the rant and making this short🙃

tw: emotional abuse, manipulation

masterlist ttpd masterlist part two

________

You and Max were fan favorites, it was evident to anyone with eyes who had eyes. But they say you never know what happens behind closed doors.

“She’s the love of my life,” Max would always say about you, looking at you like you held the universe in the palm of your hand. His fans could recite your love story by heart from how much he loved to talk about you. It only made sense that he could shatter that public opinion.

“Y/n and I have divorced, I would like to ask for privacy as we navigate the changes,” Max posted one day, his socials wiped of everything. Your accounts remained the same, your last post being from the fateful race months ago. You haven’t posted since. The fans should’ve realized when the WAGs and George unfollowed Max.

Your apartment was full of things that reminded you of Max, every time you walked in it reminded you of every memory. He was embroidered in everything. You look at a printed photo of when you first met him. Despite it being six months later, you couldn’t get rid of him.

~~~

All it took was locking eyes with him across the pier for you to fall in love on that breezy summer day. He walked up to you and asked you to join him, and you did. You kissed him at the top of the ferris wheel later that night, and you didn’t even know he was famous all you knew was that he made you feel safe. The breeze reminded you of the warm ocean breeze from that day, one you called the winds of fate.

Despite being young, you married him after a year of being together. Things weren’t perfect even then, he could be incredibly mean, but he was also a standup guy when it mattered. That erased any wrongdoing of his.

“You have made me a better man, you reformed me, the love of my life,” Max had said that fall evening, repeating the one line that brought you back to him every time.

You believed his words, his lies spun to make you believe the hell you were living in was actually heaven. When he takes his anger out at you, doesn’t defend you against his father, you start to second guess him but he calls you those four words.

“I’ll never leave you, Schatje,” Max holds you in his arms, your back against his chest as you both look at a tv in the Paddock. The fans loved that photo, calling your love legendary. They didn’t know about the growing hole in your heart.

Your marriage was looking like one of those black and white movies you and Max watch on snowy winter afternoons. You and Max had been talking about starting a family, but you couldn’t get pregnant and you were watching everything you loved slip away.

“God, Max, you are like a con-man. I feel like I’ve been sold a get-love-quick scheme. What happened to you?” you ask, voice laced with hurt, during an argument about it. Max just ignored you, pushing past to stream with some friend. He ignored the sobs coming from your bedroom. He told the chat that you are the love of his life when asked about you.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” some of the WAGs pulled you aside during a race. They told you how Max was shit talking you to other drivers, saying you were a waste of a wife for your inability to get pregnant, saying he should’ve never married you, pointing out every flaw he told you was beautiful when he was lying to your face. You stand up and leave, not saying a word even when the girls try to stop you. Max is confused but simply responds to your text saying you were sick with an okay.

You are laying in your bed sobbing when Max gets back from the race. You face the terrace, where you and Max would dance under the stars. You can see the ghosts of it through your tears, and you wished you could un-recall when you thought you had everything.

“Please get out of bed,” Max says, his concerned tone laced with venom. Maybe the ghosts of your relationship are embarrassed by the scene on the other side of the glass.

“No,” you cry, mourning the loss of your counterfeit relationship.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Max sighs leaving the room. You sent a text to the WAG group chat who helped you remove all your belongings from Max’s apartment into George’s apartment that he wasn’t using at the moment.

Your phone is flooded with messages from Max, so you turn it off unless you are talking to your lawyer. Max finds a divorce petition and your apartment key on the dining room table when he comes home from training a few days later. The relationship that had such a valiant roar ended with the blandest goodbye.

You sit in George’s apartment with Carmen and Lily drinking wine. You took over George’s lease after they insisted that you did.

“For someone who claims to be a lion, he sure is a manipulative coward,” Carmen says as the three of you comb through the years of lies he spun.

You took the dreams that you thought you and Max wanted and lit the match to destroy them with your divorce papers. Despite your somber eyes, you seem more at peace, even with the sadness you will carry with you until you die.

“He’s the loss of my life.”

part two

[dollfacefantasy]

DARK SIDE OF THE MOON ♡

pairing: redk!clark kent x fem!reader x soulless!sam winchester

summary: your boyfriend sam has been acting strange lately. good thing your other boyfriend clark is willing to help you figure out what's going on with him. unfortunately for you, he doesn't get very far before he starts acting weird too.

cw: nsfw (18+), au, smut, mild dubcon, threesome, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, facefucking, overstimulation, praise/degradation, hints of asphyxiation kink

a/n: comm for my wife @fearcvlt. thank you to the anon who infected us with the sam-clark disease 🙏 also i know sam doesn't lose his soul till season 6 but it's my fic so this is early seasons sam. don't like it kiss me about it.

Sam has been acting weird lately.

You’re not sure what it is. You can’t pinpoint an exact detail about him that’s shifted. From the surface, he looks the same. He still dresses the same. His voice sounds the same. His hands and mouth feel the same. It drives you crazy, not being able to narrow down what you mean. What you know has changed. 

Because while the alterations are imperceptible, you know they’re real. All of that stuff hasn’t changed on a technical level, but to you, his girlfriend, someone who knows his very being like the palm of your own hand, it’s not the same.

Physically, he’s your Sam. The one you’ve been with since your second semester of college. His dark brown hair hangs too close to his eyes like always. The warmth in his hands radiates with regularity as they coast across your and Clark’s bodies. His words reach your ears in the soft, calculated manner you’ve come to expect from him.

But you swear on everything you have in this world, on both your lovers’ lives, that all of this comes with a new note of unfamiliarity.

While his appearance hasn’t changed, the way his eyes land upon your face has. His gaze feels cold. It nearly stings when it connects with your own. You may recognize his touch, but he’s rougher now. He doesn’t handle you like a cherished doll, nor does he explore Clark with his usual reverence. Instead he tugs and he grabs. His fingers dig into flesh harder than ever before. Scratches and bruises litter the two of you after a night spent together. And while his voice rings out just like it did when you met him in your first criminal justice class all those years ago, the tender embellishments in his sentences have vanished. Vacant silences lie where sweetheart and honey used to appear. 

You sound like a lunatic describing it.

“Can’t you just talk to him?” you plead with Clark for the third time this week. You attempt persuasion by flaunting your puppy eyes at him, but he just shakes his head.

He stands before the full length mirror in the corner of your bedroom while pulling on his shirt. The hazy morning light shines through the nearby window onto his physique, highlighting the contours of muscle decorating his abdomen before they’re covered up by the scarlet sweater he chooses to wear today.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, baby,” he responds, gazing at you through the reflection.

You boost yourself off your mattress where you’d been sprawled out. Approaching him from behind, you snake your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his firm back. He doesn’t have to face you to know the pout that’s taken residence on your lips.

“Well, I can’t think of everything,” you huff, “Just maybe see if something’s wrong. Like maybe we did something and we don’t know-”

“You’re overthinking,” he cuts in while fastening his belt into place.

“You don’t know that because you’ve never actually asked. Maybe he feels like he can’t tell us what’s bothering him for some reason. Or it could be like a guy thing. He blows me off whenever I try to help, so maybe he’ll be more comfortable with just you,” you insist.

He sighs and shakes his head again, reaching for the brush nearby. Clark’s hair rarely ever falls out of place. The only moments you can recall seeing him disheveled are those when he lays in bed with you and Sam, nude body coated in a light sweat and pressed against each of yours. Yet he tends to his black tresses more often than you take care of your own hair.

“It’s not a guy thing,” he chuckles, “He just doesn’t wanna talk about whatever’s going on in his head. You know how he gets sometimes. I’m sure he’ll bounce back soon.”

“But it’s been like over a month. Ever since he went on that trip with his brother, he’s been weird,” you continue, squeezing him as if that would somehow convince him of your point.

“You know his childhood is a sore spot. Maybe being around him brought up some bad memories,” he offers and shrugs.

“But he would have told us about that,” you refute.

You release Clark from your hold as he turns around, his outfit all ready for the day. As you look up at him, your eyes remain full of concern for the absent part of your trio. Your present boyfriend smirks at the worried expression before cupping your cheeks and planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“It’s gonna be ok, babe. He’ll be ok,” he murmurs.

You nod. “Just if you get the chance… please talk to him,” you try once more.

“I will,” he agrees. His hands fall to your waist where they knead the flesh lightly.“Try not to worry too much today, alright? We got that party tonight. You’re gonna look all pretty, we’re gonna have fun, and everything’s gonna be fine.”

He kisses you once more before walking towards the bedroom door. You nod in response to his words and force your shoulders to relax. The mention of his work party you were all going to attend later helps a little to distract you. At the very least it gives you something else to think about for the time being.

Before he heads out, you blow him a kiss like you always do. He pretends to catch it, flashing those fangs of his in a lazy grin.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he says before finally leaving your view.

Despite your assurance to Clark, you spend much of the day thinking about Sam and possible causes for his perpetually sour mood. Unfortunately, you can’t think of anything that seems like a realistic possibility.

While your anxiety wants you to blame yourself, you really don’t believe something you did is responsible. And he had gone on that trip with his brother a month ago, but they’d been going on their ‘hunting trips’ pretty regularly for the last two years. He never got like this afterwards. Even when his brother annoyed him, he’d just vent about it to the two of you before letting it go.

You try to reason that law school might be getting more stressful. All of his free time not allocated to you and Clark, or to his brother in the Impala, goes to textbooks. He spends hours poring over notes and articles and journals. Maybe that’s it. You try to convince yourself it could be. At least until he and Clark come home for the night with hopefully a more concrete answer.

As the day shifts into evening, you busy yourself with getting ready for the party tonight. It wasn’t anything too fancy. Just some gathering the paper Clark now worked at was throwing. As a new hire, he was one of the employees being celebrated, warranting your and Sam’s invitations.

It’s around six-thirty when you finally hear the front door open. Two pairs of shoes shuffle in. Good. That means Clark met him on campus or Sam drove over to Clark's job after his last class. There would be plenty of time to talk over the course of the distance between your shared house and either of those locations.

You put your earrings back down on the dresser and approach the door, straining your ears in hopes of scoping out any tense silences or relieved chatter. In the kitchen, you can hear the fridge open and then close. A sigh. You narrow your eyes. Was it a sigh of tiredness from work or frustration at the other man? The words that follow answer your question.

“She’s just worried about you,” Clark says. You bite your lip, sensing this may not be going well.

“Yeah, I know. She doesn’t do a great job of disguising that,” Sam responds.

“Then just talk to her. It’s only still a problem because you’re being cagey.”

“I’m being cagey because there’s nothing to talk about. She’s looking for something that isn’t there, insisting-”

You step through the doorway and head towards the sound of their voices. Barefoot and with the zipper on your dress only halfway pulled, you enter the room to join them. Sam finishes his sentence as both his and Clark’s eyes set on you.

“Hi,” you interrupt weakly.

The taller of the two rolls his eyes while your other boyfriend raises his brows in acknowledgement before taking another sip of his drink.

“I just… heard you both talking and thought I should come in here…” you continue. It’s only been a few seconds, but already, it’s starting to feel like you should have waited for them to come to you.

You walk a couple more paces into the space, finding yourself standing equidistant from both your lovers. Your gaze alternates between them before focusing on Sam.

“I know I’m probably worrying over nothing. And I know you said nothing is wrong,” you say, keeping your tone as neutral as you can, “You just seem different. And maybe nothing is actively wrong, but I just want you to know if something happened or like if you’re thinking about something differently that me and Clark-”

“You’ll what? What will you both do?” he asks, “I don’t know what you want from me. Do you want me to make up some problem that doesn’t exist so you can feel accomplished when you fix it?”

“No,” you answer right away, hurt infecting your features.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know…” you say. Your resolve wilts away with each second his harsh eyes stare at you.

“Just stop then. Stop asking me to give you a reason, stop talking about me behind my back, just stop,” he rants, “Did you ever consider you might be projecting? That maybe something is different with you that you don’t want to accept.”

“What?” you ask. Your pained expression infuses with a bout of confusion.

“Think about it. Me and Clark, we know what we’re doing everyday. I’m going to school, he’s going to work. We have our plans in place. You? What are you doing? Ever since you graduated last year, you’ve been floundering, bouncing from idea to idea. Maybe you’re the one who’s fallen off the tracks, but you can’t admit it,” he accuses.

Your eyes widen. That statement cuts you deep, through multiple layers. It is the truth in a sense, but to have it thrown in your face by someone who supposedly cares about you hurts worse than you would have anticipated.

“That’s not true,” you deny.

“Yes it is, and you know it. You wanna blame me for how you’re feeling. You’re losing control of your own life so you want to find something you can fix,” he continues.

“Sam, stop,” Clark interjects on your behalf.

You just stand there, feeling even more lost than you had earlier. He was acting different. You were sure of it. But now you also feel like he maybe has a point. What if he is acting the exact same, and you’re the one losing your grip? Clark hasn’t been as concerned as you, and maybe that’s for a reason.

“What?” Sam says, his eyes flitting towards your other boyfriend, “She’s allowed to talk about me, but I can’t defend myself?”

“You’re not defending yourself, you’re attacking her,” Clark responds before sighing. He puts his drink down and walks closer to the both of you. “Both of you just need to take a second and calm down.”

In the pause that follows, the pain Sam’s words caused doesn’t subside. The throb only emanates from deeper inside your chest. You glance up at your darker-haired boyfriend before turning to the one you could barely recognize.

“I’m not trying to make you defend yourself. I really just feel like something’s been up with you lately. But if you say there isn’t, then there isn’t, and I won’t mention it again,” you finally say.

“There isn’t,” he tells you without more than a second of consideration.

Awkward quiet settles for more than a pause now. You’re not sure if you can just act normal after that, but you don’t want to create more tension by hightailing it to the bedroom. Both of them seem to go with the former. Clark meanders his way back to the counter while Sam turns and digs through his bag for something.

You decide it might be best to follow along. Swiveling on your heel, you walk away from the kitchen and down the hall towards your shared bedroom to finish getting ready. The silence no longer feels calm; it weighs down on you, pressing hard enough to crack.

As you dust powder across your cheek bones and eyelids, you force your breaths to remain even. You swallow hard to prevent your eyes from watering. The mascara wand coats your lashes with black that will stream down your skin if you shed any tears. For a final touch, you spread some sticky gloss over your lips, watching in the mirror how they shine with the glittery substance.

When your face is painted to your liking, you pull on a pair of tights under the crimson fabric of your dress and then sit on the edge of your bed to slip on your shoes. While fumbling with the one on your left foot, you hear another person enter the room.

Your pupils dart towards the door to find Clark there with a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he starts gently, “You almost ready?”

You just nod, not really in a chatty mood.

He returns the gesture and comes closer, approaching as if you’re a wounded animal.

“You look really beautiful, baby,” he compliments.

“Thanks.”

“Here. Let me help,” he offers and crouches before you. 

He takes your leg between his large hands, rubbing up and down over the smoothness of your tights for a moment. His fingers then fall to the sleek strap causing you hassle. He pushes the little piece of material through the metal clasp. Despite the size of his digits, they move with nimble precision.

“He didn’t mean that stuff he said,” he tells you, voice quiet enough that it wouldn’t leave the bedroom.

“Then why didn’t he come in here?” you ask. Your voice quivers a little bit. You know Clark hears it from the way his big, blue eyes lift to connect with your own.

“He’s just being pissy right now. But I know he didn’t mean it, alright? Neither of us think you’re off track, but even if you were, it’s not the end of the world. You still have time to figure things out. We love you either way,” he says, patting your leg. 

Almost as an extra gesture of reassurance, he plants a soft kiss on your kneecap. It’s intended to be innocent. Something wholesome to let you feel the pure love he’s trying to pour into you with his words. But you can’t help but feel a flicker of desire in your belly. The sight of it only serves to remind you of how he does that when he’s spreading your legs apart and kissing up your inner thighs to somewhere much more intimate.

“He’ll come around. For the record, he is acting different. It’s not just you,” he reassures, reaching up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

The look in your eyes has softened from one of hurt to something more tender. You nod in response, and he smiles.

“That’s my girl. Don’t look so sad anymore. I wanna show off how beautiful you are tonight. Can’t do that if you don’t let anyone see that pretty smile,” he praises.

Your face lifts with the expression he describes. It only increases the curve of his own lips. He rewards you with a small peck. When he pulls away, you can see a splotch of lip gloss on his cupid’s bow. It’s tempting to try and wipe it away with another kiss, but instead you take the more effective route and swipe your thumb across the skin.

“Ready?” he asks and reaches for your hand as he rises to his feet again.

You clasp your smaller fingers around his and stand up. “Almost. Zip me up?” you say and turn to show him the semi-closed fabric.

He chuckles fingers finding the zipper and adjusting it for you with ease. “Always.”

You stand with your back pressed against the wall, drink in hand, eyes surveilling the room. It’s only around nine o’clock, but you’re more than ready to go home. You keep a smile on your face for Clark’s sake, not wanting to look miserable around the people he has to see on a daily basis.

The party isn’t even horrible. It’s just fine. The ritzy hotel dining room they rented out is fine. The music playing at a reasonable volume in the background is fine. The food is fine. The drinks are fine. The smalltalk is fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. It’s all fine.

Including you. You’re fine too. Not at all upset about earlier. The car ride here had been dead silent. No apology from Sam. Not even a word of acknowledgement. But that’s ok! You could deal with it.

Once the three of you had arrived and made your way inside, you introduced yourselves like you always did, clear enough to convey that you were all a package deal but vague enough to not draw the ire of less open-minded people. From there, you let Clark tell some stories about the both of you. You made sure to laugh at all his jokes, smile at him with the most adoring eyes, and sing his praises to any person who wanted to hear them.

After a while of that, he turned you both loose. You first grabbed some appetizers and a drink and then landed where you are now. Sam had trailed close behind you even though he still wasn’t saying anything.

He’s beside you against the wall. His shoulder leans against it, his body angled towards yours. You can feel his eyes drifting along your figure, but you don’t give in to the temptation of a response.

“You gonna freeze me out all night?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Do you plan on apologizing at all?” you ask, passive aggression lacing in every word.

He exhales a laugh and reaches for your face. His fingers guide your head, forcing you to look at him.

“Is that what you need, baby?” he mocks, “You need me to say sorry?”

You scowl and try to look away, but his digits dig into your skin. He keeps you right where he wants you. Leaning in close to you, his breath fans across your neck.

“Would it really make you feel better if I said I didn’t mean it? Would it really change anything about how you feel? I don’t think so,” he murmurs, “I think you’d like it more if I kissed it better.”

The low tone of voice combined with his proximity fires up that warmth in your tummy you felt earlier. You try to suppress it and maintain your glare.

“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, craning your neck for some space.

“What? I thought you’d wanna make up,” he says.

“I- It’s not that. We’re at a party for Clark’s work. It’s not like we’re high schoolers who can just go find some closet to make out,” you huff, “Plus, you definitely are acting different now. You’re always the explainer, and Clark is always the one who wants to kiss things better.”

That brings a small smirk to his face. “We can’t? Or we shouldn’t?” he teases. He moves in again, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have been a little different lately. But why is that a bad thing? I feel great.”

“Yeah, but it’s not great when you’re being mean all the time now…”

“Mean? Or direct?” he asks, “I’ve never said anything to hurt you. Even when you think I’m being mean, I’m only speaking without sugar coating because I know you can take it. And I know that sometimes you need to hear it. You’re strong. Just as smart as me and Clark. You just need a little push sometimes.”

Your heart beats quicker in your chest. His words are one thing, but the way his rich eyes peer into yours are another. His thumb drags back and forth across your bottom lip now, almost as if coaxing some form of a response.

“It’s still mean even if you don’t intend it that way. It still hurts,” you say. Even if your face can’t move, your eyes fall. “I miss the you who wasn’t so sharp all the time.”

You soften your words, hoping to break the tough exterior that had shielded him for the last month. Though you see no change in his expression. No shift in his gaze.

“You’ll have to learn to love this one just as much then,” he replies.

It stings. The words slice like a blade. He doesn’t care about the falter on your face though. He ducks in, kissing along your jaw to your earlobe. A small gasp leaves you at the soft, wet touches. You squirm in place, nearly spilling your drink as the liquid sloshes within the confines of the glass.

“I can show you how. Just gotta let me,” he whispers. His hand falls from your face to your neck, wrapping it in a seductive embrace.

Your eyes flutter, and for a split second, you want to give in. His lips on your skin feel like traces of heaven. The soft words he speaks hit your ears like gentle caresses lulling you into compliance. But then you remember where you are and who you're here for.

“Sam, stop,” you whimper.

But he doesn’t pull back. He doesn’t just stay in place either. His hand tightens around your throat. It digs in a little, pressing you against the wall. You can still breathe just fine, but the threat of air loss is right there, teasing you just barely.

Your eyes widen now. Sam had never been so aggressive in the bedroom before, let alone in public.

“We’re here for Clark. You’re gonna embarrass him,” you remind.

“He’s a big boy. He can handle it,” he breathes.

Before you can squeak out any more words of protest, a large hand is curling over Sam’s shoulder and tugging him back. Clark looks at him with a raised brow before his focus shifts to you.

“I guess you two made up?” he asks.

You open your mouth to clarify with some version of what actually happened, but Sam cuts you off. “Something like that.”

He takes you by the wrist, spinning so that he’s against the wall while you’re in front of him with your back against his chest. His chin rests atop your head as his hands rub your arms. Clark looks on, almost suspicious at the complete flip in attitudes.

“So how much longer do we have to be here? They’ve already played ‘Mr. Brightside’ like three times. This thing’s gotta be winding down soon, and I’m pretty eager to get back so we can make up some more,” Sam says.

“Not too much longer,” Clark says, the words slow and edged with uncertainty, “I’ll start saying goodbyes.”

You nod gratefully, your appreciation shining through even without words. Sam smirk prevails on his face yet again.

“Sounds good. Just don’t take too long or we might have to get a head start without you,” he says. His tone indicates he’s teasing, but with how he’s acting, you wouldn’t put it past him to try something like that.

“I won’t. Just give me a few,” Clark responds simply before drifting back into the crowd to say bye to the important people.

He keeps his word and only takes a few minutes. If he had taken any longer, you aren’t confident you would have noticed. You feel like you have whiplash from the way Sam has latched himself onto your body. Earlier he spoke like he couldn’t stand you, but now he clings to you like he’d be willing to bend you over one of the nearby folding tables and bring some real excitement to this party.

You try brushing him off, redirecting his hands to places that wouldn’t earn you side eyes from your boyfriend’s colleagues. He’s not interested though. Every few seconds it feels like he’s nuzzling into your neck or smoothing his hands over your sides.

“Sam, quit it,” you whisper.

“Why? I don’t need Clark’s hearing to know how fast your heart is going. I know you like it,” he purrs.

The best you can hope for is guiding him to the exit and letting Clark meet you there. When the man in question finally does make his way in your direction, you can see a bit of frustration on his face. Annoyance gleams from his eyes as they sweep over how Sam holds you like a territorial dog with a chew toy.

You want to apologize. You hate when Clark isn’t happy with you, and you really don’t want to end the day having fought with both of them. But before you could get any words of remorse out, Sam’s already leading you through the front door. He keeps a tight grip on your wrist, now allowing you even an inch to pull away.

Clark follows along. His hand lands on the small of your back. The faint touch grounds you a little, but before it can have any real effect, Sam’s yanking you closer, nearly causing you to stumble over the steps that lead you three into the parking lot.

The confusion that permeates your mind has now spread to Clark’s face and replaces his prior irritation.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, trailing behind in broad strides.

“What do you mean?” Sam laughs. He turns around, holding you close again once in range of the car. “You got the keys?”

Even though he does in fact have them, Clark makes no move to fetch the small metal keys from his pocket.

“No, seriously. What’s going on with you? One minute you’re ready to bite her head off for worrying about you, and now you wanna jump her bones in the middle of a parking garage?” he says, not letting up.

“I can’t win with you two. She doesn’t like it when I’m being serious, you don’t like it when I’m not. What’s a guy supposed to do, huh?” he says.

“It’s not like that, and you know it,” Clark challenges, “You have been acting weird lately. I let you deny it because I know what it’s like having to keep something to yourself. But pretending like it isn’t happening does nothing, especially when it’s affecting us.”

You stand there with Sam’s arm over your shoulders, looking back and forth between them. It’s not even an argument yet, but with a few wrong words, it would have no issue transforming into one.

“Please. You didn’t care how it affected me and her when you kept your secrets for years. So spare me a lecture,” Sam dismisses, “I don’t have some great secret. People just change over time.”

“Not so rapidly!” Clark fires back, “You went away for one weekend, and a different person came back.”

“I’m still me,” he says, “If you have such a problem with the person you think I’m becoming then maybe I’m not the only one we should be evaluating. Maybe something’s changing between all of us.”

You look at Clark with pure worry now. He hasn’t outright said it, but these words border on the worst potential outcome. Reaching for his hand that dangles off your shoulder, you give it a squeeze and gaze up at him.

His attention shifts to you. He smiles at the nervousness written all over your features.

“Don’t look so scared, baby. We’re not gonna break up. Unless that’s what you two think would be best,” he says. It’s almost a threat. He puts the power in your hands, but it’s not by choice. He’s not offering it to you. He’s forcing it between your palms and pushing your fingers to close around it.

“No,” you respond instantly.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Clark backs down, his voice dropping a bit.

“Then what did you mean?” Sam asks.

“I just want to know why. Why are you acting like this now? You used to be the reserved one. The one who was always careful about everything. You kept me and her on track. Now, you’re in there acting like a high schooler and making me look like an idiot, being all over her like that.”

“All over her?” he repeats with a chuckle. His arm slithers off your shoulders, leaving your skin exposed to the chilled night air. He takes a few steps towards your other boyfriend. “You jealous, Clark? Because as soon as we got home, you know I’d be all over you too.”

He scoffs and looks away. Truly, you doubt jealousy had been the root of Clark’s discomfort. You would’ve been irritated too if they started getting handsy in front of people you wanted to make a good impression on. But it was hard to not get flustered when confronted so directly. When Sam stalked forward like that.

The brunette slides to Clark’s side and maneuvers himself behind him. His hands flatten against his muscular biceps, rubbing the skin softly through his suit jacket. You watch as his lips brush the shell of Clark’s ear in the same way they had to yours.

“C’mon. You know I don’t play favorites,” he coos.

Your darker-haired lover has his eyes fixated on the car beside you three. You knew the feelings coursing through him right now. The same ones that swirled within you fifteen minutes ago.

Sam’s long fingers move South on Clark’s arms. The tips coast over his elbows and along his forearms before getting to his wrists. You know the exact sensation. Like little lines of fire being drawn across your limbs. Similar to you, Clark goes to resist. He just has the actual strength to carry it out.

He pushes Sam’s hands off and looks over his shoulder. “We’re gonna talk about it. You can’t keep avoiding it and expecting us to just go along with this forever,” he says.

Sam smirks at the assertion. He lets Clark move him away. You notice one of his hands slip into his pocket, but before the act can even register, it’s back out and reaching for your other boyfriend’s wrist again.

“We will talk about it. But not tonight,” he says.

The beginning of a disagreement begins to leave Clark’s lips. But the hand that had reached for his cuts his statement short when it flexes and spreads a thin band over his wrist. Clark looks down at it while you observe with confusion. But then you see a sparkle of red.

Your pupils dart back to Clark’s face. You watch as his eyes flicker with that same ruby color. His shoulders rise, and his chest puffs out with innate pride. He doesn’t have that sweet, lopsided grin; now his lips look sinister and menacing as they curl. You don’t even have to ask what it is. You recognize that look. You know the effects of red kryptonite.

“You’re such an asshole!” you explode at Sam. You step towards him, practically shoving Clark behind you. “Why would you do that?! You know he hates that stuff!”

Your arm swings forward, smacking at his chest. He just laughs and dodges your weak blows. “Calm down. He’ll be fine. I just wanted to help him unwind for the night,” he says.

You go for another strike, aiming for his bicep this time instead. Before your limb can connect, two strong arms have looped around your waist and tugged you back against a firm body.

“He’s right,” Clark chimes in. His chin hooks over your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck, planting kisses there that make you squirm. “I was letting you get me all wound up. Just needed to take the edge off.”

Without responding, your hands fly to his wrist, desperate to get the bracelet off for him. You’d only seen Clark under the influence of this stuff once before. You really weren’t eager to relive the experience.

But he’s quicker than you. He slides his arm away and spins you around to face him in the process. No longer does your boyfriend have his usual look that likens him to a carefree puppy. Now you stare into the eyes of a wolf.

“Clark-” you start and grab for his wrist again.

He laughs and lifts his arm in the air, dangling his hand a foot over his own head. Much too high for you to reach. Still, you jump and try to pull it down by his elbow.

“That’s not my name you know,” he teases.

You stop jumping and glare at him. “I’m not calling you Kal,” you say flatly, “Give me that. You’re not yourself when that stuff is on you.”

“I’m more myself like this than I am any other time,” he disagrees.

Sam comes up behind you and places his hands on your hips. “Come on. Don’t spoil the fun before it’s really started, babe,” he taunts.

“Get off,” you shoo and shoot him a harsh look as well.

None of your efforts have the intended effect though. Nothing you do intimidates either of your boyfriends whose frames dwarf your own against the side of the car.

“So angry,” Sam mocks. He ducks in and kisses your cheek while Clark grabs your chin and makes you look at him again.

“We just gotta find something that calms you down. You need to let loose sometimes. You’re always so worked up and high strung,” Clark says. He strokes your jaw as Sam brings his mouth down to your throat. He starts laying kisses there, the affection more intense than it had been inside the hotel.

His soft lips glide across your sensitive skin. He licks your pulse, scrapes his teeth over the thumping artery. Your breath hitches. They both can hear it. You know that from how Clark’s smile grows that much more smug.

“You know it feels good,” he coos. He leans in, teasing you with the idea of a kiss. His mouth hovers not even an inch from your own. The warmth of his breath puffs against your skin. With the slightest move the two of you would be touching.

“I can feel how bad you want it,” he murmurs, “So why not give in?”

“It’s not like you could get away anyways,” Sam whispers.

And you know it’s true. You can’t do anything they don’t want, especially not something Clark doesn’t want. They’re bigger and stronger. With Clark’s heightened senses, there’s no hope of hiding either. You know the smart decision here is to give in. To give in and then wait for an opportunity to get that bracelet off him.

However, you can’t even say this is a choice based solely in logic or survival instinct. You want Clark’s lips on yours. You crave more touches from them both. While your rational mind hates these versions of the two of them, your body doesn’t care. Your skin breaks out into chills while your heart rate speeds up all the same.

“You’re gonna regret all of this later,” you whisper to Clark, letting your eyes fall to his plush lips.

“Maybe. But I’m not worried about that. I’m living right now,” he responds.

He closes the gap between the two of you. A soft moan creeps up your throat, escaping against his mouth. You feel him smirk. The sound encourages him to deepen the kiss.

Sam presses closer behind you. He pulls your ass flush against his pelvis and kisses your neck some more. It’s like a flurry all around you. If any of Clark’s coworkers were leaving the party now, this sight would only add to the embarrassment Sam and you caused earlier.

None of you are thinking about that though. You’re completely wrapped up with each other. Your hands have found their way into the dark locks on either side of you. The left one grips Clark’s while your right extends back and tugs on Sam. Heavy breaths blow against your face from multiple angles. Large palms grope at the different curves of your body.

Clark reaches down into his pocket. His fingers fish around for a few moments before pulling out the small set of keys Sam asked about earlier. He pulls off your lips and tugs you to his chest away from Sam.

“You drive,” he says simply, sliding the metallic object into the other man’s hand.

Sam huffs out a laugh. “Seems like you’re more eager than me now.”

He doesn’t resist or argue though. Instead, he taps the unlock button and slides around the back of the car to head to the driver’s side. At the same time, Clark opens the door to the backseat and ushers you in with a pat to your ass.

“You had a taste of her in there. Now it’s my turn,” he grins.

The drive home was a quick one.

It felt like a right turn, a left turn, and then the car slowing as Sam parked it in the driveway. Clark had made good on his words. He took his turn with you. The entire time his hand was up your skirt, his fingers beneath the thin cotton of your panties, drawing little whiny moans from you.

When the vehicle finally came to a full stop, Sam cleared his throat to alert you and Clark. They spoke back and forth a bit, but their specific words eluded you. Before your mind could come down from the high Clark was working you into, they were hauling you inside.

Clothes came off along the way to the bedroom. Clark’s jacket pooled on the floor in the entryway. Your red dress decorated the bannister. Sam’s belt hung around the bedroom door knob.

Now they have you spread before them on the bed. Your panties have abandoned you like the rest of your outfit. You lie bare for their eyes. At the foot of the mattress, they finish undressing themselves. Sam’s in the lead, his fist already stroking his cock while he stares down at you. Beside him, Clark finishes shimmying off his trousers.

“Think it’s my turn again,” Sam says before getting on the bed with you. He takes hold of one of your ankles, pulling the limb aside to spread your legs.

“We can share now. I’m not feeling too patient,” Clark adds. He follows right along with the other man’s movements.

Grabbing your other leg, he pushes it farther away from the other as he crawls towards you. They both descend upon you in sync. With their broad frames, it’s a tight fit, but they manage to both position themselves at the junction of your thighs.

Clark looks to Sam with a big smile across his face. “More fun when we do it together anyways.”

Sam hums in acknowledgement. He stares into those round, blue eyes for a moment more before rotating them to focus on your glistening center. You’re thoroughly slick from Clark’s fingers in the car and all the attention they lavished on you in the parking garage. Two of his digits spread you open. They both gaze at your drippy entrance, your poor swollen clit.

“You don’t even need a warm up tonight, sweetheart. You’re soaked from a few touches,” Sam mocks.

“It was more than a few,” you whimper in defense of yourself.

“Either way… be grateful we’re so nice, willing to give you all this extra attention,” he continues.

“Yeah, especially when you were being so bratty earlier. Talking back, carrying on,” Clark adds.

You whine softly and squirm your hips in an attempt to speed along the teasing. Even with your pouty denial, you know how bad you want them. These words only add to that needy sensation in your belly.

“So desperate,” Sam croons in a low voice.

Luckily for you, Clark doesn’t say anything back. He must have been honest about feeling impatient because instead he just leans in and connects his mouth with your cunt. A sigh bursts from your lips and you tilt your head back against the pillows.

He boosts your thigh over his shoulder and holds it like some sort of handle. His lips kiss your clit a few times, mashing the little bud with their delicate, smooth surface. He then sticks his tongue out and drags it through your arousal. The tip of it sweeps up over your velvety folds and swirls around your button.

Your back arches off the bed. Sam grabs your thigh closest to him and takes it on his shoulder as Clark had done. He turns his head, trailing some kisses over your inner thigh. They start innocent enough, chaste pecks at the most. But as they get closer to your center where Clark is, they grow sloppier. You feel his tongue gliding around in figure eights before his lips engulf the saliva-traced flesh.

When he finally reaches your pussy, you whine loudly. Your eyes flutter, and your heels dig into their backs. They keep you pinned in place, not allowing you to squirm too much or to buck your hips in excitement.

“Good girl,” Clark breathes in a husky tone before sucking on your pulsing clit.

A sharp squeal comes from you. Your toes and fingers curl at the sensation. In the meantime below, Sam prods at your leaky hole with his tongue. At first, he uses broad strokes. He flattens the muscle against your desire-soaked entrance, lapping without shame or hesitance. You moan appreciatively, nice and shameless just how you know they like.

More juices seep out of you as they work you up. That combined with their spit has you thoroughly soaked between your legs. It doesn’t bother them in the slightest. You can see the shimmer of your essence on Clark’s jaw. His eyes are shut, his features relaxed as he showers your tender nub with attention. Sam’s head nods as he licks. It bobs lazily, his nose occasionally bumping Clark’s jaw. He also sports a peaceful expression. It’s the first one on him you’ve seen on him in weeks. He isn’t annoyed or tense or bitter. He’s just lost in the bliss of how good you taste.

Soon, fingers start to get involved. Sam brings his long, slender digits up to slither their way inside of you. He moves his lips North to get more room for them. Clark moves ever so slightly to accommodate him but not by too much. He’s close enough that his nose can still brush against his skin. Close enough that he still feels the occasional swipe of his tongue against his own.

You feel release boiling in the pit of your stomach. Sparkling bursts of ecstasy fizzle from there through all your limbs.

“You gonna cum, baby?” Sam rasps. He pumps his fingers in and out faster, curling them against your clenching walls.

“Mhm,” you force out. Your eyes screw shut while you nod, your head wagging rapidly.

“Go ahead, honey. Cum for us. Show us how good you feel,” Clark hums. He flicks his tongue at your clit just as quickly as your head moves above.

In a matter of seconds, you shriek. Your thighs quiver against the sides of their heads. You roll your hips into the pleasure while clutching at the sheets. Sam’s fingers dig harder into the malleable flesh of your leg. Clark latches his lips onto your bundle of nerves and works you through the high.

At the point where you would normally start to come down, they still haven’t let up. Sam’s fingers don’t recede any. They stay snug in your cunt while Clark continues to make out with your center. You whine. Your hips now buck with the purpose of getting them off. The motion doesn’t achieve that though. They stay right where they are.

“Clark-” you squeal for the main offender. Your eyes roll back and ragged pants of air puff from your lungs. You grab at the two mops of hair between your legs. “Sam...” you whimper with desperation.

Your pleas go unanswered at first. Clark chuckles while Sam grins against your leg. The latter continues to thrust his hand between your thighs.

“What’s the matter?” Sam croons, his brown eyes gazing up at you.

Words tangle up into a needy whine. You bite your lip to suppress the noise before attempting to reply with the sentiment you know they anticipate.

“It’s too much. Too sensitive,” you mewl.

As expected, they only look at you with patronizing smiles.

“Too much?” Clark repeats mockingly, “It’s not too much. You can take it. Can’t she, Sam?”

“She can take it,” the man to his left affirms before redirecting his words at you, “You know you can, baby. You know you like it. You just can’t help yourself. You always need something to whine about.”

“I do not! Ah-” you say, cut off by your own moan.

It’s the feeling of one of Clark’s thick fingers joining the couple of Sam’s that are already inside you. Your toes curl at the minor stretch you feel. It’s nothing compared to the times you’ve taken both of them at once, but still, it brings slight discomfort.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Clark praises as you lose yourself to the moans.

They both duck back in and work with their mouths again. The tips of their tongues brush against one another as they lap at you. Clark moves in impossibly closer, angling his mouth slightly to the left. It leaves him more open to Sam. It gives him easier access to the other man as well.

Sam knows it’s on purpose. This isn’t coincidental positioning. Clark can be just as needy as you. He just has an aversion to acting so openly pathetic about it, especially with red kryptonite on him. 

His head drifts a little more inward, bringing their mouths even closer together. Sam doesn’t hesitate before taking the leap. He tilts himself towards Clark. His tongue slides out against your cunt, but this time it makes full contact with the other man who moans at the warm, wet caress and reciprocates in full.

Your head pops up at the needy sound leaving his throat. You watch with lust-lidded eyes as their tongues tangle with each other against your folds. Their mouths are still touching your skin. The focus has just become split, flowing to all three points of your triad.

It helps to ease the sting of overstimulation that had been nipping at you. You’re able to actually make the descent back to a normal state of arousal. Reaching towards them, you lazily stroke Sam’s hair. You brush his bangs back from his warm forehead before swapping over to Clark and combing your fingers through his tresses that have become damp with sparse drops of sweat.

As they feel your touch, they become more focused on each other. It’s as if more subconscious parts of their minds understand you’ve been attended to. You’ve been sated. You’re not going to get up and leave, so it’s ok to play with each other a bit.

Sam’s the one to deepen the exchange. He draws his fingers that had gone still from the warmth of your cunt. They land on Clark’s shoulder, sliding up to the nape of his neck to pull him closer. Your other boyfriend doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves in for more, his nose bumping against Sam’s. Their breaths grow louder. You can hear every desperate inhale.

A low hum reverberates from Sam’s throat as Clark pushes him back on the bed. He kisses with the same overeager tenacity of a pup desperate for attention from its master.

Sam crumples on his shoulder, letting his back rest against the blankets beneath the three of you. You rise on your elbows and sit up, readjusting your legs. Your eyes trail over their nude bodies. They catch on the way Clark ruts himself against the crevice between Sam’s hip and the mattress. Sam’s flushed length stands stiff between their bodies, oozing the first beads of pre despite being untouched for the most part.

You’re only left neglected for a few seconds more. Sam manages to guide Clark’s lips down onto his neck. He then tilts his head back and reaches for your wrist.

“Don’t think we forgot about you,” he says with a small tug.

You follow along with the direction and scoot closer. Clark’s still got his mouth attached to Sam’s neck, kissing and licking at the curve of his throat. The recipient of the touches sighs at the dull sense of bliss it brings. Clark grinds himself harder against the bed, letting out a strangled moan before lifting his head.

His eyes are drooping with desire too now. The blown out pupils flit from Sam to you.

“We couldn’t forget about you, baby,” he adds, his mind seemingly just catching up with the words your other lover said.

Grabbing you by your waist, he drags you over Sam’s body and gets you flat on the mattress under him. You can feel the heat of his length against your thigh. Sam sits up beside you and strokes your cheek with two of his long fingers. He studies you for a few moments, looking at you with such intensity. Even in the heat of the moment though, you know he’s different. His normal reverence is absent. There’s hardly any affection in his gaze. It feels empty in a sense. As if his actions are guided by pure carnal need.

“I’ll let you have her pussy, Clark. Think her and I need to make up with something closer,” he says as his thumb pulls your mouth open by pressing on your bottom lip.

The plan receives no argument from Clark. It probably would have had he been the one resigned to your mouth, but he had no protests about getting to fuck you.

“Sounds good to me,” he grins and moves to kneel between your thighs. He tugs you closer by your hips, getting you in the position he wants. “You ready, princess? This won’t be too much for you?”

It’s not said with genuine concern. You’re sure the result would be the same regardless of if you nodded or shook your head. His tip is already nudging at your hole, more than ready to be inside.

You feel his cock sink in and split you open in time with Sam pushing his thumb further into your mouth. A moan bubbles up from you before you close your lips around the digit and suck. You shut your eyes too, allowing the physical sensations to overtake you.

Clark works himself in inch-by-inch. To your surprise, he doesn’t jerk himself all the way in, but he doesn’t go slow either. His desire rolls off him in waves. It’s only a matter of seconds before his tip is kissing your cervix and the thin patch of dark hair above his cock is pressed to your pelvis.

Sam pushes down on your tongue with his thumb. You continue sucking. Having it there soothes you in a way. It staves off any remnants of overstimulation, gives you something to focus on besides the thick cock stretching you apart.

But then he removes it. You whine. Moments after it leaves you, Clark draws his hips back and then slams in again. Now he’s set on picking up the pace. You don’t get a break. He doesn’t take a while to figure out a rhythm. He pounds back and forth, already settling into the one he likes.

Sam is rising up next to your head too. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s tapping the head of his dick on the seam of your lips. Your eyes lift to his face, which looks down at you with a condescending smirk.

“Open up, baby,” he purrs.

Obediently, your lips part. He thrusts himself inside with the same force Clark used on your cunt. You screw your eyes shut to try and repress the urge to gag. He chuckles up above, though it sounds distant to your ears. Being full of them on both ends spreads your senses thin. They try to keep up with everything happening, but they can really only catch the most intense pieces. Everything else blurs into a flurry around you. Clark’s needy grunts, Sam’s satisfied hum, the wet squelches coming from your core. All of it mixes together into a hazy bluster.

Sam’s cock drags over your tongue. It’s much heavier than his thumb. Warmer too. You suck on it all the same. You don’t use too much force or bob your head more than necessary. Even if his personality had been different as of late, you know what affects him on a physical level no matter what. You swipe your tongue over that specific vein and press up on the sensitive ridge that makes him buck. He hisses as you’re able to get him going with only a few small maneuvers.

“Fuck, you’re good at that,” he grunts. His hands land on either side of your head and hold you in place. “It’s much better when you’re using your mouth for this instead of all that worrying.”

As he grips your skull and begins rocking his hips back and forth, Clark rabbits himself harder into you. His fingers dig into you with such force, you’re sure you can feel the bruises forming on your skin. Normally, Clark was more conscious of his strength. He made sure to never pull too hard or hold too tightly. But when that little red stone sits strapped around his wrist, all concern for those kinds of things leaves his mind. All he cares about right now is the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock.

“She’s so fucking tight. Like more than usual. Thinks she likes us better like this,” Clark moans as he continues fucking into you with fast, needy strokes.

“Yeah? That true?” Sam huffs. He thrusts forward and drags your head all the way down on his cock. 

In place of an answer, you gag. One set of your fingers claws at the bedding while your other clutches one of his thighs. He holds you in place for a moment. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds with panic while your pussy squeezes extra tight around Clark. You hear him whimper at the sensation. It sounds far away, fading almost.

You blink slowly. Your head jerks a little. It’s not a conscious choice. Just the natural survival instinct that drives you to fight for air. You don’t receive it at first. Sam keeps your throat full for a few seconds more before pulling out and allowing you to suck in a breath.

You cough at the sudden influx of oxygen. A few droplets of spit spew forward and flank his v-line. He pets your head, stroking you in a way that seems almost caring.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, “You didn’t even move that much. Kept nice and still like you’re supposed to.”

“Of course. She knows just how to take us,” Clark agrees.

“I guess that’s true,” Sam says, thumbing at your cheek before sliding his cock between your lips again.

He’s not as forceful this time. You don’t stop breathing as you suck and lick at him. He keeps his thrusts pretty shallow. One of his hands rests on the top of your head, maintaining contact without grabbing you.

Simultaneously, Clark’s cock throbs inside you. It aches with the urge to spill. His balls that slap against your ass feel tight, more than ready to drain into you.

Sam can tell he’s close from how hard he’s panting. He doesn’t say anything, just watches. His eyes linger on Clark’s hips as they lose rhythm. They buck against you, sputtering as the rush of release creeps up on him. Sam can feel it approaching for him too. He tilts his head back and lets his eyes fall shut. His hand stays firm on the top of your head, using its position for leverage to start thrusting with a little more fervor again.

You whine around his cock. The faint vibrations only serve to coax Sam farther along. Things feel more blurry for you than it does for either of them. While they feel the clear signs of their impending orgasms, yours arrives suddenly. It explodes within you, snapping like a taut rubber band. Your body twitches and spasms. You feel the urge to arch your back and buck your hips, but you’re stationary for the most part between them.

Clark cums after you. He bursts with a sharp groan. His hips slap against your ass, jerking you upward. He maintains the same firm grip he’s had the whole time. You feel the thick, warm ropes flood you in a few spurts. It feels good, relaxing in a way to know the end is near.

Then your attention is swept up by the man occupying your mouth. Another hiss zips through his lips before you feel the sticky heat of his spend hit the back of your throat. You swallow every drop. It’s not like you have much of a choice. He doesn’t pull out or give you any room to do anything else but accept it.

He holds himself there as his length twitches and then softens. When the pleasure has reached its zenith, he finally begins to slip himself out. A thin string of saliva hangs from your lips and the head before he falls from his knees and sits beside you. He watches as Clark slides out too. Unlike the man by your upper half, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he collapses on top of you.

His body heat seeps into you, his weight crushing your smaller frame. He nips at your neck. “See? It’s so much more fun when you’re not so tense, baby,” he breathes.

“Mhm,” you hum and let your eyes shut.

Sam sinks down next to the pair of you in bed. He doesn’t speak for a couple minutes. Wordlessly, he observes the way Clark holds you beneath him.

“You are much cuter when you’re tuckered out like this,” he says, his voice low and quiet.

You tilt your head against his shoulder and keep your eyes shut, a gesture to show that you’re trying to doze off. Your main hope is that they’ll follow suit. Luckily that seems to be the case as they remain quiet. You hear Sam’s breath even out beside you. Clark stays still on top of you, pressing a lazy kiss to your skin every so often, but it’s not long before you can feel those puffs of air become deeper and more steady.

Once you feel semi-confident they’re both asleep, only then do you open your eyes. As carefully as you can, you shift slightly and reach for Clark’s arm. You keep your movements slow so as to not wake either one of them. When you have his muscular limb held up enough, you hook your fingers around that bracelet and pull. With a little force, it pops free. You don’t know if it’s real or imagined, but you swear you feel his muscles relax.

From your spot on the bed, you toss it towards the closet. The farther it is from Clark the better. You suppose you should probably try to hide from Sam, but for some reason, you don’t feel like he’s set on using it again. Getting it off was pretty easy. Maybe he planned on you doing exactly this from the moment he slid that thing onto your other boyfriend.

Either way, you shut your eyes. You won’t let yourself sleep, but you can at least rest for right now. You and Clark could deal with Sam later. With one of them back to normal, you could figure out how to do the same for the other.

[normanssurvivalsite]

Short Kings

(Hazbin Lucifer x trans male reader)

Warnings: noooonnneeee(:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were looking in the mirror at your fresh scars. You were born in hell...as a biological female sadly. At least coming out to anyone was not a problem due to you not having anyone.

This only changed when you were already a grown up. You kept yourself alive by breaking into rich looking houses and stealing stuff that you could sell for good money.

This is how you met your boyfriend of today as well, the big dick behind it all: Lucifer.

You wanted to rob his house in the middle of the night, but you just had to stop and look at a very cute tubber duck and this was when you got caught.

However he didn't really seem mad that you wanted to rob him. He even asked you to stay and have a cup of tea with him. Which at the end turned into you hugging him while he cried into your shoulder about how he has not seen his daughter in years and his wife left him.

While he was renting to you, you noticed that it stoped suddenly. He fell asleep, 'great' you thought.

Even though you had a shitty life, you were not a shitty person. You didn't hate the rich people you stole from you knew that thats just how it is one are lucky some aren't.

So you brought him to his bed. While you laid him down on his bed you took an actual good look at him. 'He's cute' you thought to yourself.

'And very fucking mentally damaged' you thought right after.

You wanted to leave, but something held you back. For some reason you felt for this little man. Also it has been a long while since you have slept in an actually comfortable bed so you decided to stay the night.

Little did you know you'd never leave after that.

And that you amazing boyfriend would be the reason you can finally be closer to your real self.

"My love" you heard your kings voice from besides you as he put his hands around your waist and put his chin on your shoulder.

"Those scars look rewashing on you" he commented while kissing your shoulder.

"My handsome, boyfriend" he continued to whisper praises while you smiled lightly.

You loved him so much.

"You know I'm really happy you tried to rob me" he mumbled into your shoulder.

You laughed at that.

"Yeah sure its cuz you found a boyfriend who is shorter than you" you got back at him.

"REALLY, ok now see I really don't think you're in the situation to be making short jokes" he said while putting his forearm on the top of your head and leaning on it.

"OK WOOOW big talk small guy" you said while elbowing him in the gut. In reaction to this he bent down in pain clutching his stomach.

You lifted his chin up with your hand and kissed him.

"Well, I don't mind being hit in the gut if this comes after" he told you as you both stood and he put his hands around your waist pulling you closer to him.

"You really look amazing" he said while looking at you. And this time it was truly you. Without the binder and yet still feeling amazing.

"Thank you" you whispered back as you two touched your foreheads together.

"Sooo...what do you say we celebrate my boyfriend finally feeling good in his body" he said after some time smiling cheekily.

"Oh, I'd be more than happy too my love." You smirked back as he took your hand and lead you to you guys's bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YALL THIS IS DEFINITELY ONE OF MY MOST FAVS HAZBIN FICS I HAVE EVR WRITTEN ITS SO SWEET😭

I LOVE LUCIFER SM🫠

Its also the first trans man fic I have ever written (which is quite sad looking at the fact that I'm a trans man myself😭)

BUT I SHALL DO BETTER IN THE FUTURE I PROMISE🫡🏳️‍⚧️🧡

Also I just wanna thank you guys again for all the love yall are amazing fr🥹🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[myhotwifeadventutes]

PART 4

I have to admit the more I humiliated and dominated hubby the more I liked it. At this point, I was keeping him totally denied not only was he pussy free but I wouldn’t even let him touch or look at my body. I actually moved him into one of our extra bedrooms this way he had his own bathroom and couldn’t even watch me get changed. he had totally taken over all the household chores, cooking cleaning ironing. A typical Saturday morning I would let him dress in his sissy clothes he would make my breakfast and clean the house and if I wanted to reward him I would let him Kiss my feet in nylons, but only with my shoes on if I was in a good mood, I would wear open toed shoes, and if I was in a bad mood, I would wear my closed up shoes. Only on date nights would I let him worship my feet with no shoes on. My feet became the only outlet for his sexual pleasure. It was so fun teasing him. He was so frustrated just looking at my feet put him into a frenzy. I loved coming home after a date night. I would make him wait in his room all dressed up in his bra and panties like a little sissy so he couldn’t see how I was dressed. I would come upstairs and put on maybe a turtleneck and a pair of jeans with just my nylon feet exposed I love laughing at him telling him how my boyfriend fucked me that night And filled me with his cum sometimes I would let him lick up all the cum from my dirty panties and he would have to guess who’s cum it was. I would finally let him cum and of course he had to lick up every drop. It was amazing how far I could push him. I really wasn’t sure where to go to next I was thinking about butt plugs or I was even considering making him suck a cock I just didn’t know who’s.

Things were going, especially well with Josh and Joseph. I wasn’t seeing Vinny as much as I used to. He was trying to make things right with his wife and I respected him for that. One morning out of the clear blue sky I got a text from Lisa Josh’s wife. She asked if I would meet her for lunch. I obviously was a little concerned so I called Josh to find out what was going on.. It seems the night before they both confessed their indiscretions. Josh assured me that she wasn’t mad. Apparently she was also having an affair and she just wanted to speak with me about the circumstances.

We met that afternoon for lunch, where she opened up to me about an affair she had with one of her girlfriends. She told me how bad things were at home with Josh sexually and she totally understood how Josh and I ended up in a relationship. I told her that I had very similar circumstances at home, and I was also looking for a sexual relationship outside of my marriage. Shockingly, she asked me if I would be interested in pursuing a relationship with both her and Josh. She said she always found me very attractive and obviously Josh did too and they knew that I would be very discreet and safe and it would give them a chance to experiment and see if they can move forward in their marriage. She asked me to think about it and she invited me over for dinner that weekend.. I was pretty dumbfounded. she was attractive, but I never never had even kissed another woman. After speaking with Josh again, I decided to accept their invitation to dinner.

I was nervous and excited as I was getting dressed I wore a sexy leopard, print bra and panties and a little black swinging dress and black pumps. When I arrived, Lisa look beautiful she had on a white slip dress just sheer enough so you could see the outline of her bra and panties underneath. for the first time I found myself looking at another woman sexually. She greeted me with a big hug and a kiss on the lips, and I remember thinking how good her lips tasted. We had some wine and some appetizers and as I watched her float around between the kitchen and the living room I started to appreciate how sexy a woman’s body is. We had a great dinner and went back to the living room for some more drinks. Josh had to take a work call or maybe it was an excuse to leave Lisa and I alone for a while. We were all pretty drunk. Lisa sat right next to me on the couch and started playing with my hair telling me how sexy I am

And how much she was attracted to me, her hand found my legs which sent a shiver through my body. She leaned over and asked me if she could kiss me and we started kissing. Her lips were so soft. She said she wanted to see my body really badly and with that she pulled my dress over my head, so I was just in my bra and panties She was feeling and kissing my whole body. She pulled me by the hand and led me upstairs to the bedroom. She immediately took off her dress and we laid on the bed, kissing and feeling each other. It didn’t take her long to get my panties off, and she started licking and eating my pussy. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Josh walked into the bedroom. I saw him taking off his pants off and the next thing I knew I had a cock in my mouth. While I was sucking on his cock, Lisa was still eating my pussy, and I had the most intense orgasm I think for the first time I might have squirted. Lisa came to the head of the bed and started kissing me and helping me suck Josh’s cock. I told her it was my turn now and I started exploring her body. I’ve seen her in a bathing suit before, but I never realized what a sexy body she had. I was sucking on her nipples for a while and made my way down to her pussy. It sounded like Josh was coming while I was eating her pussy. After he came, Lisa was still playing with his cock telling him he has to get hard again. He came around behind me and the next thing I knew I was getting fucked from behind while I was eating Lisa‘s pussy. Lisa was moaning and panting until she finally came. We shifted positions so Josh was fucking me in the missionary position and Lisa was working on my tits. Lisa was telling Josh to fuck me harder and after a few deep thrusts he came inside me. we laid there for a minute or two and I started working on Josh’s cock again. I told him he had to get hard and fuck his wife. It didn’t take long for him to get hard. He pulled Lisa down to the end of the bed and started fucking her, I basically straddled Lisa ‘s face so she could eat my pussy again. Lisa had an orgasm while Josh was fucking her, but Josh needed to come so he flip her around and started fucking her from behind. I shifted with them so Lisa could continue to eat my pussy. I had another really intense orgasm and a few seconds later. I heard josh cuming again. We were all exhausted. We just laid there cuddling and I know we were all thinking how much fun we’re going to have together.

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

The Other Woman - 1

PAIRINGS: Andy Barber x Detective!Reader

SUMMARY: The stress on the case is penting up. So are you and Andy. But you can't do anything about it, he's married and you're both supposed to be working on this case. But can you resist him when he looks at you like that?

WARNINGS: Swearing, smut, mentions of cheating (not on reader), angst (if you squint).

WORD COUNT: 1,059

*not proof-read* ENJOY!

“We can’t keep doing this,” he whispers, while facing away from you.

He buckles his belt, and the clinking makes you force yourself to see the man in front of you get dressed. All while you’re naked being hides within the caves of your plush comforter.

You laugh inside at the sheer contrast of your position.

The rain splatters outside, it hits against your window like a warning.

As if saying ‘I told you so’.

You ignore it.

You ignore the fact that the rain is fucking right.

“What do you mean?” you ask pulling the covers closer to your chest as you see him put on his shirt. His muscles flex as he buttons up his garment; however, his jaw ticks with stress of the current event.

“I mean,” he sticks his tongue to the inside of his cheek, “this has to ease down,” he finally looks in your direction. Your eyes widen slightly; you didn’t expect him to be subtle but also blunt in meaning.

You scoff from your place, “are you being for real, right now?” The audacity of this man to come crawling to you in the first place, asking for solace. And, is now trying to be the saint in all of this sinful, silent havoc, the peace in all of this emotional war.

He twists the ring on his left-ring finger and shakes his head as if convincing himself that the one month of messing around, behind his wife’s back, was still an all clear in whatever fucked up realm he lives in his head.

“Look, I have a wife-,” he starts slowly, but you interrupt him immediately.

“That’s what I said, when you threw yourself at me in the first place,” you tell over him. Sliding off the bed, you pull on a pair of underwear and the closet shirt you could find.

“I know, sweetheart, I kn-,” he tries to talk over you, but you walk and pointedly shove your finger into his chest.

“Don’t you dare call me that. You knew the amount shit you were going to put you- no. Us, through when you walked into my apartment that night, Andrew,” you say slightly narrowing your eyes at him.

His deep blues are so bright, it’s like they glow in your bedroom.

They were once filled with lust, passion and excitement. Now they are full of indecisiveness and sorrow.

He whispers your name, “I’m sorry, it’s just-.”

You can’t help but interrupt him again, “oh my god, you’re actually doing this.”

You back away and run your hands through your hair, you thought you knew him. You thought you knew the real Andrew Barber.

“No, hey, wait. Listen to me, can you at least do that?” He grabs your elbow, gently forcing your look back at him. Your body does, but your eyes are too interested in the intricate details of your clock.

He sighs and rubs your elbow, “Laurie knows something isn’t right.”

You scoff at the mention of her name, you were friends with her once upon a time. That fairytale ended when she talked about how lonely and how much of a workaholic you were behind your back.

“She knows what? That, when you say you’re at the office working on the case, you’re actually with me. Fucking me into my bed,” you deadpan and harshly turn to look him in the eyes.

He winces at your words, “sweetheart-.”

You rip your elbow from his grasp, “what the fuck did I say about calling me that, Andrew.”

You pace back and forth, trying to convince yourself this isn’t happening.

More so, you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you may not be able to see Andy anymore.

You met the ADA a couple weeks back when you were first put on a case, you had to meet with the lawyer to talk about the coming plans.

What you didn’t expect was the lawyer to be the man that’s currently in your room right now.

You knew he was married and had a kid, so you forcefully pushed your feeling aside.

But you couldn’t resist the little whimper that left your lips every time he’d bite his lip in thought or stripped off his suit jacket if it got too hot or even during the late-night filing work that had to be done, he’d loosen his tie and pop off the first two buttons of his shirt.

Imagine your surprise when he caressed the small of your back, a week after you met. He started to be bold.

He’d call you ‘Detective’ out in the open, it changed to ‘Sweetheart’ behind closed doors.

And so much more happened after, till the both of you were tangled in each other’s arms.

Now?

You’re tangled in each other’s confusion.

“Look, I should’ve phrased it better. We just have to slow down, just for a while,” he runs a hand through his trimmed beard.

“I don’t wanna stop seeing you, and you know that,” he pauses, “don’t you, sweetheart?”

He comes closer and cups your cheek, and you hate the way you lean into his touch.

Because Andy knows you, he knows what you need, what you want.

It’s why you’ve fallen so quickly in the first place, the way he just seemed to figure you out immediately.

You nod and look up at him with your doe-like eyes, “m’sorry, I…. shouldn’t have overreacted.”

You place your palms on his chest, feeling the material under your fingertips.

He leans down and kisses your forehead. “It’s okay, I should’ve known to said it in a proper manner,” he whispers against your skin.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he says, looking into your eyes again.

“I love you,” you say with a small, tired smile on your lips.

He ducks down and kisses your lips with such softness, you think your being whisked away on some cloud.

“I’ll be back, I promise,” he says, giving a final peck before leaving you to stand alone in your room.

You hear him shutting the door on his way out, and it snapes you out of your daze.

Your walls may be empty of his presence, and it will remain as such until he gives you the all clear.

Till then, if time permits you, you’ll hold onto the feeling of his kisses.

🎀🎀🎀

Another fic in a one day?!?!

(I'm literally spoiling yall.😚😚😚)

Lovelies, I srsly don't know what's going on with me. 😩😩😩

This idea just popped into my head, please lemme know what yall think about.🤭🤭🤭

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[audrey-carr1]

Prize (part 1)

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Henrietta is always one step ahead of Elias, and he hates it. Just when he thinks he has the upper hand, Hetty shows him up once more.

warnings/tags: fem!reader, EliasxReader (I know gross! nothing happens between them though, HettyxReader, AU, everyone is alive!

word count: 1.5k+

Want to read on AO3? Here

You barely have the chance to close the door, before you are pushed up against the wall. Her lips attack yours as her hands grasp your hips. 

“You haven’t even told me your name,” You say when her lips leave yours to place kisses on any open skin. Your knees nearly buckle when she finds a sensitive spot right behind your ear. Your hands reach out to hold her to help steady yourself. 

“You do not need to know my name,” The woman says trying to go back to what she was doing.

“Well, what am I supposed to call out when you have you have me writhing in a fit of passion?” You ask hoping she might say something.

“Oh, she is a cheeky one,” Hetty thinks to herself. 

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, kitten,” The woman purrs in your eye. 

“Do you know how sexy your voice is?” You gasp when she licks the shell of your ear. 

“So I have been told,” She says pulling away from you and bringing you towards her bedroom.

____________________________________________________________

The first time you met Elias you wish you were a bit charmed. He was a smooth talker, and you enjoyed the attention he was giving you. Against your better judgment, you continued to see him. The two of you have been seeing each other for three months, and Elias takes care of you well. He showers you with gifts and lets you stay in his penthouse apartment while you try to land your big break as an actress. Many times Elias has tried to kiss you, but you dodge them easily. You tell him that it will take more than a few gifts to earn a kiss from you. 

“Oh, you’re playing hard to get. I like this game. Just know that I will spare no expense,” He says one night before leaving the penthouse. 

Though you still weren't sure of him things have been going well. At least until you noticed his face in the paper with another woman on your morning walk.

You snatch the paper from the stand as you study the picture. His arm wrapped around the other woman possessively. The woman's face in a tight smile waving to the cameras. Upon reading the article you realize that this woman was actually his wife, Henrietta Woodstone. The picture was taken at a gala, the same night that Elias sent you long-stemmed roses because he had to cancel your plans abruptly. Upon further inspection of the picture, you realize this is the woman you slept with a week ago. You slept with the wife of the man who has made you the object of his affection. “What kind of twilight zone shit did I get myself into?” You ask yourself.

You return the paper to the stand and continue your walk back to the apartment. You enter the apartment building and make a beeline to the elevator. You barely make it to the elevator when the doors slide back open. As you enter the elevator, you look up from your phone to thank the person who held the elevator for you. You cannot hold back the loud gasp when you lock your eyes with a familiar set of sapphire blue eyes. Losing your senses, your phone slips from your hands. "How much clumsier can I get," You ask yourself.

“Holy shit! I mean you’re…” You can barely form a sentence as you are face to face with none other than the pictured woman from earlier standing in front of you. “You really are beautiful.”

“Oh, so you can form a sentence. It is nice to know that my husband’s mistress is an educated one. Also word of advice, flattery will get you nowhere my dear, especially in your predicament,” The woman quickly bends her knees to pick up my phone and holds it out for me to grab it, “Get in, I believe we are both making the penthouse stop,”  

You grab the phone from her hands and immediately throw it in your purse. You needed both hands free in case she tried to kill you. “Oh my gosh what if she tries to kill me!” You think to yourself. 

The elevator seems to climb ever so slowly to the top floor. The two of you stand in silence, as the elevator climbs to the top floor at what seems like a snail's pace. When the elevator finally does reach the penthouse, Henrietta glides out with ease leaving you behind. 

“Do not dawdle, enter” she drawls, “I do not have time for games.”

You drag your feet from the elevator and enter the penthouse. Your eyes are trained on the woman’s movements as she walks towards the bar. You make your way over to her direction, she is still looking for something behind the bar by the time you approach. 

“Sit,” She says. 

You do as you are told, absolutely captivated by the woman in front of you. If she were turned around, you would be able to see her smirk at your obedience. 

“I am going to have fun with this one,” Hetty says to herself searching for a bottle of wine.

She finally spies the bottle of wine she has been looking for, and grabs it from its shelf. She places it in the quick chiller and grabs two wine glasses and places them in front of us. 

“I assume you are okay with a pink moscato? We might as well have something to enjoy while we talk this out,”

“You want to talk?”

“I believe that is what I said. Now pink Moscato okay? I do not mind chilling another bottle, I am sure he has told you that you can have whatever it is you want,”

“Pink Moscato,” You repeat.

“Oh dear, I believe you must be in shock. Not to worry as you are not the first mistress I have encountered. I will say you are one of the prettier ones,” Henrietta says taking the wine from the chiller and pouring it into the glasses.

“You think I’m pretty?” I ask.

“If you are going to parrot everything I say then-”

You finally snap out of it, “I am sorry. You are right I am in shock, because there is no way I am in a penthouse with the wife of my -”

“Boyfriend?” Henrietta tries to answer for you. 

You make a face and she laughs. 

“You two are not official? Are you some long-term escort or something? Is he one of your top clients? Is that what I was to you?” Henrietta asks. 

“Clients? No! I met him at one of my auditions,” You clarify. 

“You’re a showgirl? This just keeps getting better,” Henrietta downs her glass in one go. 

“Okay, I know you have the right to be the pissed-off wife. I am not negating that, but I need some filler as to what is going on because I think I might have a coronary,” You grab the glass of wine taking a swig.

“Well we do not want that,” Henrietta says pouring herself another glass, “Why don’t I start from the beginning.”

_END_

A/N: I have no clue what I am going to call this! Any ideas? Anyway please do not hate me for the EliasxReader pairing. It isn't and will not go anywhere lol. I am also on AO3 as Deviously_Elegant! I will be posting both here and there.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Night By The Fireplace

Summary/Prompt - SPN Pond Secret Santa: Stuck home because of a snowstorm

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: This one goes out to @little-diable you said you like to read angst and smut so I tried to give you a bit of both along with some fluff to balance it out. I hope it’s ok. Merry Christmas!

Also, Thank you so much to @spnfanficpond for organising this fun, festive event. I had a lot of fun writing this!

Warnings: angst and SMUT

The notification you have been dreading all day pops up on your phone: All Flights Departing Austin, Texas Cancelled - Pending Weather Conditions

You sigh as you look out your shared bedroom window at the blizzard blowing past outside. Having watched the local weather last night you knew it was coming, not that your native-Texan husband believed you at the time. You dump your packed suitcase on the ground beside the bed and stomp out of the room in search of your husband to pass along the news. 

Hearing your footsteps, he interjects quickly holding his phone up with the same alert. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Let me have it, you told me so.”

“I did tell you so! We should have moved the flights up! I told you!”

“I know. But in my defence, when have we ever had a white Christmas in Austin?”

“The other year, when this exact same thing happened! When we first got married!”

“Apart from that?”

“Jensen!”

“I know, Honey. I’m so sorry.” He walks closer to you to pull you into a hug but you push his hands away.

“No, I’m too busy now. I’ve gotta call everyone and let them know we’re not gonna make Christmas because my husband is a colossal dick and wouldn’t listen to his wife!”

“You think I wanted to get stranded here in Austin? I just didn’t expect it to actually blizzard!”

You roll your eyes at him and dump your phone down on the bench. “No, you know what? You call everyone and let them down!”

With that, you storm out of the room and back upstairs to try and destress. You decide to run a bath to warm up from the unusual cold and relax your body and mind. 

After a while, you hear a soft knock on the door. Before your husband steps inside with an apologetic look. He kneels beside the tub dipping his fingertips in the warm water. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you and changed the flights. I called everyone and let them know what happened and took full blame.”

“I’m sorry too, the snowstorm isn’t your fault.”

“This feels like it’s getting cold. How about you come downstairs?” He leans down and kisses you before standing up and holding your towel out for you. Once you stand up he wraps you up in it and then pulls you into his arms. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed and meet you in the lounge.”

You quickly slip on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and then hurry downstairs to catch up with Jensen. Downstairs you’re met with a beautiful picnic mat spread out on the floor in front of the crackling electric fireplace with two hot chocolates, popcorn, chocolate-coated strawberries and some pasta carbonara from your favourite Italian restaurant. He pats the spot on the floor next to him and you take a seat. He wraps one arm around your shoulders, grabs a strawberry with his free hand and holds it up to your lips. You take a big bite and let out a small involuntary moan at the sweet mix of the juice and rich dark chocolate. 

“A quiet Christmas with just the two of us wouldn’t be so bad,” you admit when you finish chewing. 

“I know I’m away for work so often. So I always want to make the most of the time when I’m with you.”

“You definitely know how to do that.”

“Well, there’s one more treat for you. You get to pick the movie, no complaints from me, I promise.”

“Really? Even a chick flick?”

“Whatever you want.” He hands you the remote.

You flick through Netflix before settling on a sappy Christmas movie. As the movie fills the background you tuck into the array of delicious food Jensen collected for you. You take turns feeding each other the strawberries until they’re all gone. Then you lay back on the cushions he scattered around and cuddle as you enjoy the movie.

After a few minutes, you can tell he’s getting bored as he starts to leave kisses all down the side of your neck as his hands drift south, massaging your sides until they slip under the hem of your (his) hoodie. You tip your head back exposing more skin to him which he promptly takes advantage of as he climbs on top of you. He works his way back up with his lips and nibbles on your earlobe before whispering, “I thought you were watching the movie?”

“You’re blocking it,” you reply with a moan as he nips you again. 

“Want me to stop?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, “don’t you dare.”

He chuckles lowly before grinding his lower half against yours causing you both to moan. He slides the hoodie off your body and throws it off to the side. “Really, baby? Are you just as bare under these sweats?”

“Maybe…” you say teasingly before being cut off by a moan as he slides a hand up to squeeze your boobs, lightly running his thumb over your erect nipples. 

“So sexy…right here with you is so much better than being stuck in a plane or with family where I have to control myself around you. This right here is all I want and need for Christmas.” He kisses your lips quickly, not letting you deeper it, as he pulls away and works his way back across your cheek, down the centre of your neck, onto your chest, circling your breasts before finally kissing over each of your nipples. You moan out loudly and buck your hips into his at the stimulation, but he pins your hips down with a strong hand on your waist as he takes his time licking, nipping and sucking each nipple and breast until he’s left satisfactory marks all over them. 

“Baby! Jensen, please! I need more!” You groan out, not completely sure what you even want apart from just more of him. You claw at his shirt-covered back trying to pull it up. After a moment he gets the message and sits up a little to yank it off and throw it over with yours. 

When he leans back down he kisses you again before asking, “How are you? Want me to take you up to bed?”

You shake your head as you glance over at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree you’re now glad you insisted on setting up and decorating early despite your holiday plans. You look back into his forest-green eyes and smile. “I’m perfect right here.”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to continue his pleasurable assault on your body. Working his way down to your belly button and waistband, leaving a trail of wet kisses all the way. When he finally dips his fingers under the elastic he pulls it up and then lets it snap back against your hips causing them to jolt up. With little exploring needed, he can already tell you’re commando underneath which has him straining against his jeans even more than before, if that were even possible. 

“Stop teasing!” You beg desperately, which he finds so sexy. It spurs him on to finally slip your sweats down your legs gently and onto the floor with the rest of your discarded clothing. But much to your dismay he continues to tease; kissing along your hips and down to your thighs, skipping over where you want him most, he kisses all the way down to your ankles and even leaves a featherlight kiss on each instep before working his way back up the other leg until he’s face-to-face with your core. 

“Open your eyes, baby,” he softly orders. Only when your eyes flutter open and meet his, does he finally kiss your clit. You try to fight against your eyelids, but as his tongue darts out to draw patterns you lose the battle and squeeze them shut, throwing your head back again moaning his name and a collection of profanities. As his tongue and mouth continue to work their magic on you he brings one hand up spreading your labia open before sliding one finger inside you easily. Thanks to his attentive foreplay you’re already so wet and ready for him. He easily slides in two more and curls his three fingers up and forward to reach the spongy spot inside that has you crying out even louder and trying to buck your hips against him for more. He continues to work his fingers and mouth against your sex until he finally feels the familiar clenching on his fingers. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well! Come all over my fingers.”

Without much extra effort necessary he pushes you over the edge, causing you to follow his instructions. He works you through it, not stopping his movements until you’re completely limp and exhausted beneath him. You shutter as he pulls his fingers out of you and sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. 

Once you catch your breath a little you slide your hands down his chest and stomach to his waistband, but he captures your hands, stopping you. “Tonight’s not about me. That was my apology for not listening to you. You just lay back and relax. I’ll tidy up here and then we can go to bed.” He kisses you tenderly before standing up, stretching and gathering all the empty food containers and mugs and taking them to the kitchen. Leaving you alone, exhausted and blissed out on the rug in front of the fireplace.

[talshiargirlfriend]

This instalment of spy-ay-ay-ay ✨vibes✨ for @candiedsumire snowballed on me, so let me sell you on it real quick: family banter, chocolate, an impassioned speech, Vulcan jokes, only one bed, and a dose of mutual pining. 2.8K words to use 2 lines. Can you pick them out?

Thank you @deadheaddaisy for talking me off the ledge 🥰🥰🥰

also tagging @iamstartraveller776 for a reason which will be clear about 370-some words in 😅

Follows immediately from the previous post here

—

Maybe he had been overthinking because things certainly started off well enough. His parents met them on the walkway in front of the house with smiles. 

Trip stepped up to make introductions. “T’Pol, I’d like you to meet my parents Elaine Meyer and James Tucker. Mom, Dad, this is T’Pol.”

He had no time to second guess whether he should have included her rank or called her his girlfriend as immediately his parents each raised a hand in a pair of very passable Vulcan salutes. 

“Peace and long life,” Elaine said in choppy Vulcan while her husband stood beside her proudly.

“Live long and prosper,” T’Pol responded in kind. 

After a brief pause, Elaine continued in English, “Sorry, I don’t know much more than that. Welcome to our home, T’Pol. We’re very pleased to meet you.” 

T’Pol gracefully moved her hand down to shake first Trip’s mother’s hand and then his father’s. 

“Thank you for your hospitality. It is agreeable to meet you, Ms Meyer and Mr Tucker.” 

“Please, call me Elaine,” his mother spoke at the same time his father insisted, “It’s Jimmy, please!”

“Oh, you’re gonna have to work for that one, Dad. It took me months to get her to call me Trip.” 

His parents exchanged an amused glance and led the way into the house.

Trip decided to press his luck a little, “and we were on kissing terms by then, right sweetheart?” She didn’t roll her eyes, but it really looked like she wanted to and that was good enough for him. 

As they followed his parents through the front door she paused and gave him a quizzical look. 

“What?”

“Perhaps I have misapprehended the nature of your nickname,” she said in a hushed tone. “Your father is not named Charles?”

“Oh.” Trip had a brief flash of panic. If it hadn’t occurred to him to tell her this, what if he’d forgotten something important?

“Trip?” she prompted. 

“Nah, you’ve got it right. I’m the third Charles Tucker, but I’m named after my grandad and my uncle.”

Jimmy overheard that and added, “Our oldest son is named Bert after Lainey’s dad, but then my brother Charlie and his wife Maggie had three daughters in four years and decided they were done having kids—”

“My cousins Daisy, Aster, and Violet - you’ll meet them tomorrow,” Trip interjected. 

“So when this fella came along after that we decided he should carry on the family name.”

T’Pol looked between the two men. “I see.”

“That’s her ‘humans are strange and illogical’ face. I see that one a lot,” Trip joked. 

“Maybe that’s because you personally are strange and illogical, son,” his mama chimed in. 

Jimmy chuckled, and T’Pol’s lips twitched. 

“Ha. Ha. Isn’t it nice to be home,” Trip groused. 

Ignoring his put-upon tone, Elaine patted his cheek. “It’s real good to have you home, baby. Why don’t you two go put your things away and get settled, and then we’ll have dinner.” 

Jimmy led them upstairs. “You two are in here,” he said, pushing a bedroom door open.

And that’s when they saw the one large bed filling the space. They’d be able to walk around it fine, but his plan of sleeping on the floor was right out. 

“Oh wow, new bed,” Trip said weakly. 

His dad winked - actually freaking winked - at him and said, “With you kids getting older and starting to bring home spouses and kids, we thought this room needed an upgrade. I’ll see you two downstairs for dinner.” 

Once he had departed, Trip eyed T’Pol warily. “Looks like we’ll be sharing a bed.” 

She responded with typical Vulcan pragmatism. “Then there will be no reason for you to suffer back pain. Which side would you prefer?” 

He stared at her for a second before placing his bag down to claim his side. She was either completely unaffected by the thought of sharing a bed with him or she was enjoying his discomfort. Maybe both. 

After a moment T’Pol spoke without looking up from the personal items she was unpacking. “I was concerned my being Vulcan would cause you some difficulty with your family. I am pleased that doesn’t seem to be the case.” 

“Nah, I mean it’s definitely unusual, but they’ve always been pretty supportive of me finding my own way in the world. And what’s not to like about you? Plus Mom has Vulcan colleagues - friends, even, at the university. Hell, it sounded like Dad was on board before I even called. If anything, I’m more worried someone’ll make an embarrassing sex joke or ask when we’re getting married… but you’re trained to handle ‘offensive situations’ and I grew up with it.” He smirked. 

“I do not think my family would be as welcoming,” she said quietly. She sounded almost sad. 

“Well, it takes some people a little longer to come around. Our project and the joint missions to follow could really help with that. Are you close to your family?”

“Not particularly. My mother is often concerned about my erratic behavior,” T’Pol said drily. 

Trip looked at her suspiciously. “You’re not joking?”

She shook her head slightly in the negative.

“You’re a loose cannon? A Vulcan black sheep? My girl’s a rebel.” He looked at her salaciously, “T’Pol, that’s kinda hot.” 

She gave him a long-suffering look, but there was no longer a trace of sadness on her face as she followed him to dinner. 

Shortly after they all sat down at the table a blonde tornado blew in. “Sorry I’m late! Hi Mama! Daddy, is that the spicy pasta? It smells delicious! Oh, Trip! I’m so glad you made it!” 

She paused then and took a breath. 

“You must be T’Pol,” she continued in a much more dignified manner. “I’m Elizabeth Tucker, and I’m very pleased to meet you.” 

“It is agreeable to meet you, Ms Tucker.” 

Elizabeth’s ponytail swung wildly as she shook her head, “No, don’t get up on my account! I’m just gonna go wash up and I’ll be right back!”

“So that’s Lizzie,” Trip said into the silence that followed. 

“Takes after her mama,” Jimmy grinned. 

“And her brother,” T’Pol added almost inaudibly. 

Elaine and Trip shared a mock offended look and then she shrugged. “All my babies are brilliant and beautiful. I’m happy to take the credit.” 

Elizabeth returned, and dinner continued. They chatted about Lizzie’s new job, progress on the technology integration project, the fact that Trip’s mom and T’Pol’s mom worked in anthropology and cultural history respectively - small universe! - and Captain Jefferies’s excellent recovery among other topics. Trip found himself relaxing and enjoying himself. 

“T’Pol, I’m not sure how to ask this and I promise I intend no offense…” Elaine began.

Trip felt his stomach clench. So much for relaxing.

“You seem more … personable, I suppose, than most of my Vulcan colleagues. That could be personal preference or generational difference, and I don’t mean to imply that you’ve been too casual! Or that they’re too formal! I just … I don’t want you to feel like you have to try too hard with us. We want you to be comfortable here.” 

“There is no offense where none is taken. As Trip’s chosen partner, I do wish to make a favourable impression on you, and I appreciate your efforts to ensure my comfort,” T’Pol replied. “However, I believe what you have noticed is the result of my cultural training prior to joining the technology integration project. Captain Stenn impressed upon our team the logic of observing and adapting to certain human cultural norms, as he believed this would facilitate cooperation and yield more productive results.”

“Your cultural sensitivity training must’ve been a lot more interesting than ours. We pretty much got taught the ta’al and reminded not to talk with our mouths full,” Trip chuckled. 

“I don’t know, T’Pol,” Jimmy said with a twinkle in his eye. “Maybe you’re just a charmer. The handshake thing…?”

“Slick, right?” Trip exclaimed. “Like a choreographed dance move. I knew I was in trouble the minute I met her and she pulled that on me.” 

“Well, she’s certainly charmed Trip,” Lizzie added as she looked between her brother and his apparent partner in amusement. 

“Hey, I’ve charmed her, too,” Trip defended himself.

All eyes swivelled to T’Pol, who somewhat reluctantly confirmed, “He has made a positive impression.”

Trip shot her a cheeky grin, “and you think I’m funny, too.”

“I will allow you to persist in that belief because it makes you happy.”

“All right, fine,” Trip said over the laughter of his family. “If I’m gonna be mocked by all and sundry, I should at least get some dessert to console me.”

He looked at his mother hopefully, “Did I hear you mention cheesecake?”

“That’s for tomorrow, but I did make brownies — egg and dairy free.”

Lizzie clasped her hands together in delight and leaned toward T’Pol, “Mama only bakes for special occasions. Her brownies are so good!”

Trip stood up to clear away the dinner dishes and his mother followed suit.  T’Pol moved to join them, but he waved her off with a smile, “I’ve got it. I’ll see what tea they’ve got since you’re not big on coffee.”  

Once dessert was finished, T’Pol excused herself for evening meditation. 

A few minutes later Trip gestured vaguely, “I’m just gonna go check on T’Pol and see if she needs anything. Be right back.” 

His parents exchanged a knowing look. 

“Goodnight, son,” his dad called to his retreating back. 

Trip knocked on the bedroom door so he wouldn’t startle T’Pol. He’d seen how fast she could react to a threat and sneaking up on her was likely to get him pinned down with her arm against his throat and … Whoa, easy there.  He shook his head to clear it. 

“Come in.”

She sat on the end of the bed in her snug t-shirt and loose pants pajamas looking just slightly … spacey. 

“Hey, I don’t want to interrupt your quiet time. Just wanted to make sure you're ok.”

“I’m fine,” she answered too quickly. 

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Chocolate has a … mildly intoxicating effect on Vulcan physiology,” she answered grudgingly. 

Well, that was news to Trip! He grinned, “So you’re tipsy?”

She glared. “Slightly. I have been trained to act while under the influence of a variety of intoxicants and will continue to perform any necessary duties that may arise,” she assured him. 

She’d retreated into formality and couldn’t seem to settle on a focal point when looking at his face, so yeah, she was definitely a little drunk. 

“Of course. Never doubted you… you look a little wobbly though.”

“Your sister was very insistent that I share a second slice with her. I did not believe it would cause any difficulties. However, the effect was slightly more potent than I anticipated.” T’Pol sounded almost apologetic.

Trip winced, “Yeah, uh… Mom told me she accidentally added the cocoa twice and was really relieved the brownies still tasted all right.”

T’Pol tilted her head adorably. “Then it appears my initial judgment was sound. I simply failed to anticipate the… human element. I will not repeat that error.” 

“So, is there anything I can do? You need water or a cup of tea? Want me to get out of your hair? I can go sleep on the couch and say I was snoring—“

“No! That will not be necessary.”

“Ok, then what do you need?”

She looked so reluctant to answer it tugged at his heart. 

He sat down beside her. “Come on, T’Pol. You’ve done so much for me. Tell me how I can help you.”

“I have simply done my duty to the best of my abilities,” she deflected softly. 

He snorted. “Duty is getting the sensor and engine upgrades going. Watching my back is duty. Calming me down when Matt was rushed to the hospital? Watching silly movies with me? Coming here with me and charming the pants off my folks? Honey, we’re way past duty. Maybe you think you’re just really good at your job and maintaining cover - and you are - but you’re also … you’re really good at being my best friend. We’re in this together. And you and me? We make a hell of a team. So whatever you need right now, I’ve got you. Okay?”

She looked at him, emotion pooling in her dark expressive eyes until she blinked it away. Her brow creased like she was considering something. 

“Since we are in no immediate danger, the most sensible course of action would be to rest and allow my body to metabolise the toxins naturally.”

He nodded, and she continued, “Normally I would meditate to calm my mind before sleep, but the effects are making it difficult to achieve the desired state of mind. However, I believe listening to a familiar voice could provide a grounding effect.”

It took him a moment to hear the request in her words. “So, you want me to stay here and talk to you?” he checked. 

“If it is not an inconvenience.” 

“It’s not. But even if it was, I would gladly be inconvenienced if it made things easier for you.” A little embarrassed by his own vehemence, he stood abruptly. “Just gonna change and brush my teeth.”

When he returned she was sitting exactly as he’d left her, listing slightly to one side. 

“You sure you’re gonna be able to sleep next to a smelly human?” he teased. 

She made a show of sniffing the air in jest. Something indecipherable passed across her face. It wasn’t disgust, but whatever it was disappeared in a blink as she leaned back, gripping the bedcover tightly. 

“Your scent is not offensive to me, Trip.” 

Before he could work out how to respond to that, she’d moved up the bed and curled up on her side, closing her eyes. 

Trip followed suit and laid on his back with his hands tucked behind his head. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, “So is hitting the chocolate and shacking up with boys the kind of erratic behaviour your mom worries about?” 

T’Pol frowned slightly. “When word of our pairing reached Vulcan, she told me to expect a formal communique regarding the dissolution of my betrothal. She was not pleased.”

Trip was stunned. He really didn’t like the idea of causing problems for her. Or the idea of her having a fiancé, for that matter. 

“You’re engaged? he spluttered as he turned to face her fully. “Is this- am I causing you trouble?” 

She waved a hand in dismissal without even opening her eyes. “It is a formality. I was issued an ultimatum regarding my betrothal prior to accepting assignment on Earth.  I preferred a position on the integration team over marriage to Koss. Activation of my secondary assignment - our situation - simply makes me more undesirable. Thus the ‘greetings t’sai’ letter.”

His jaw dropped. “Was that a ‘Dear John’ joke?” he asked incredulously. 

She looked pleased with herself. 

“Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny! Geez, T’Pol. I thought I’d ruined your whole life!”

She didn’t quite snort. “Hardly.” After a moment she added, “I may be divulging too much information in my inebriated state.” 

“Not from my perspective, and you know I’ll keep your secrets, but we can talk about something else.” 

Trip settled onto his back again and rambled on with occasional replies from T’Pol. He talked about how glad he was to have met her, his opinions about the upcoming Vulcan-Starfleet mission, how he would improve the sensor installation prior to testing, and a rundown of the various family members she might meet at Lizzie’s graduation party the following day.  

After a quiet minute he thought she’d fallen asleep until she suddenly whispered his name rather intently. 

For a horrible second he thought she was going to tell him she needed to vomit. He turned on his side to face her. “Yeah?”

“You have a very interesting face,” she told him, staring at said face for a moment and raising her hand in his direction slightly before tucking it under her pillow and closing her eyes again. 

“Okaaaay,” he laughed. “Thanks, I guess?”

“I don’t think I’d get tired of looking at it,” she mumbled sleepily. 

By the time he could process the thought what does that mean? he realised she was actually asleep this time. 

He looked at her peaceful features, grateful she felt safe enough to let her guard down with him. After a moment he became aware he might be moving past friendly affection toward something like longing and turned away before he could reach creepy staring territory. 

He let the steady sound of her breathing behind him soothe him until he hit on another realisation: he’d been joking around with his dad before, but he might really be in trouble here. 

[britt-kageryuu]

It's a fairly nice day, and the stream is going well. On a background of a blue themed bedroom, Leo's model is lounging on a rainbow beanbag dressed in blue jeans, a shirt with a turtle that says 'Turtlely Gay', blue bandana with Trans tails, and unicorn slippers, he has a rabbit plush dressed like a samurai in blue. River is sitting on the floor next to the beanbag.

"Would you believe I found out some guys we know actually got their lives together after their lives went weird a few years back. It was really weird seeing them again after not seeing them in a while. Like this guy who's a chef had some setbacks in the food industry, and now he's employed at this High Class Hotel in New York as a head chef in one of the restaurants. Yeah fancy enough to have more then one restaurant." Leo lets out a slight laugh at a memory.

"Not to forget this couple that got together after being roommates for at least 3 years. We weren't invited to the wedding, which was understandable, we weren't really friends just barely acquainted with each other. I wonder who threw the bouquet, and who caught it? Hmm... " He starts muttering while counting out something. "I might remember to ask them the next time they drop by the local Museum of Magic. Last I heard they were planning to do podcasts about Magicians through the ages, or something. Gotta do something with that journalism degree I guess."

A notification goes off, "Why do you guys say you live in New York in your lore video?" River reads off.

Leo rereads the question for a sec, "Oh, that's easy. We heard about those urban legends about mutant sewer gators, and figured it wouldn't be that much of a reach for there to be mutant turtles. The rest of the lore was because of random family fairy tales, and just the randomness of our Actor Dad getting with a Scientist who also specializes in Genetics." He pauses to think about something, "Also the villains in the Lore? Dads Ex, some relatives who were kinda crazy, and the guys I just talked about and some other dudes. Yes we know this is why we weren't invited to the wedding! I'm just glad that one Wrestler asked me to be part of his wedding party for some reason!"

"Side tangent, I swear his wife purposefully aimed right at Star Warriors head during the bouquet toss. Like threw it like a baseball right at her head!" Leo mimes the throwing for emphasis. "Red caught it before it hit, and the bride literally shouted, "Close enough. Remember to invite me to you wedding!". Such an awesome woman." He wipes an imaginary tear from is eye.

"Anywizzle, the whole villain thing was just because of some events when we met them. Many of those not being our fault. Right?" Leo looks down at River.

"Data on file is inconclusive, or biased to it not being Dad or you guys fault!" River replies, before adding, "Though I still can't find out why you guys had a hippo costume, before that one time,in the first place."

Leo gives her a slightly flat look, and just shrugs, "I don't remember. We needed it for some reason. Dee really didn't put a reason in any of their archives?"

"Nope!"

Leo is understandably confused, "Must be something they don't want us to remember, or some similar reason. Well I just lost my train of thought. What topic should we switch to? Any suggestions Balemates?" He asks the audience.

The chat spams random suggestions, and emojis. Leo makes comments on some of the suggestions with jokes, and puns. And goes on from there with random tangents, and jumping topics.

----------------------

Masterpost

[atinyjules]

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - MARK

Wassupp! So...I'm in the dreamies phase again😭 soo like...the Seonghwa angel request will take a while since I'm stuck in a writer's block for that one (╥﹏╥)

Anyways here's dad!mark~

pairings : dad!mark x Female oc (as his wife but doesn't appear in the story)

Genre: Dad au, fluff, established relationship.

Warnings: Barely any.

Characters : Mark and Geonu (6)

"Appa! Appa! Appa!" an overly excited Geonu pulled on his father's shirt while jumping like a bunny.

"I can hear you if you didn't already know. You're supposed to be asleep...what's wrong?" he asked his son who kept jumping causing a chuckle to leave his mouth.

"I can't sleep without a storyy!" he said making his father groan.

"Geonu, I'm busy...can't you sleep without a story?" Mark said making a large fit of whines to leave the little boy's lips.

"Nooo, eomma always tells me one before I go to bed!" he said causing his father to freeze at the mention of his wife.

He let out a sigh as he remembered the way you barged out of the house with tears on your face after a really bad fight. None of that was supposed to happen but it did and now you were in your sister's house and he knew you weren't returning anytime soon. Geonu had no clue as to what happened due to still being at school that time. Telling him you would be out of town for while-

"Please...eomma always tells me one." softening at the sight of his son's glossy big eyes that resembled yours.

"Alright...go wait for me in the bed, I'll be there in a sec." Mark said as Geonu excitedly waddled to his bedroom causing Mark to let out a chuckle.

"You ready?" Mark asked Geonu, sitting beside him on his bed.

"Yes!" Geonu exclaimed and laid his head on Mark's chest.

"Since I don't have any stories to tell you...I'll tell you how I met eomma." he said as Geonu nodded.

"I originally first met your eomma at a summer camp during middle school but it was at high school that I got to actually know her and let me tell you...she was gorgeous, the most beautiful person I ever laid eyes on...she still is, her beauty wasn't the only thing that intrigued me." Mark said as Geonu looked at Mark in confusion.

"It wasn't?" he asked as Mark shook his head and ran his fingers through Geonu's hair.

"Nope...you might not know this but your eomma has a black belt in karate, the undefeated champion of Korea for 5 years...she would always use her strength to defend the weak and punish the bullies." Mark said as he smiled, memories hitting him like a fresh breeze.

"That seems like a very eomma thing to do! I can't wait to tell Dasom and Dawon!" Geonu said referring to Jisung's twins who were coincidently their playmates and friends at school.

"Don't brag too much or else you'll regret it." Mark said with a chuckle.

"Eh? Appaa! Continue!" Geonu asked as Mark smiled.

"Alright, alright....so yeah...I got to know your eomma at high school since we had around four classes together. At first I found her a bit scary since she was so strong but as time went on I realised that the both of us had a lot of similarities.

Like our same love for watermelons and music. I also found out that she followed me on soundcloud which came as a shock to me since I only had like 8 followers so I was touched...so touched. And in no time we became besties. Hanging out on the weekends and helping out at her family dojo be came my favorite pass time especially since I get bored really easily." Mark said earning a nod of agreement from Geonu.

"I agree, appa your interest level is only 20 percent that's what me and eomma think." he said as Mark let out a laugh.

"Is that so huh?" Mark asked causing Geonu to nod.

"Appa, when did you ask eomma out?" Geonu asked as Mark chuckled at the memory.

"I asked her out right after she threw a punch to my stomach." Mark said with a sigh, still remembering your face after he confessed.

"Why did she punch you?" Geonu asked.

"Because I indirectly told her she was too intimidating and boyish without realising, so she got angry." he said making Geonu giggle.

"So you told her you loved her?" Mark nodded at that.

"Yep...she slapped me right after I confessed." Mark said rubbing his cheek and smiling sweetly.

"Appa...you love eomma don't you?" Geonu asked his dad who chuckled at the response.

"Of course I do! Why do you ask?"

"If you really love her then tell her you're sorry..." Geonu said making Mark widen his eyes.

"You always give off a guilty/sad vibe whenever you upset eomma and also...uncle Haechan told me." Geonu replied causing Mark to make a mental note to kick Haechan's ass tomorrow morning.

"I'm sorry...I know eomma is probably really really sad with me but I promise you that I'll apologize to her...even if it means to get a punch from her." Mark said earning him a hug from Geonu.

"I know..." Geonu said with a yawn as Mark lulled him to sleep and sat down on the floor beside the bed of your empty shared bedroom. He took out his phone and sent you a voice message.

"Hey...it's me..."

[gaslysainz]

Lost (PG10) pt.1

Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.

warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, heartbreak.

Author's Note~ Heya guys! So I had put out a post about getting motivation to write something up, so thank you to all for commenting and encouraging me! Love You All 😘

Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".

Journal Entry -1

LOVE....It's something that i have always yearned for.

Even if it's fake. A little bit of admiration, a simple compliment can make my day. 

It's been like this ever since my brother, Isaac Conti left the world. I started living with my step mother Annie Conti and my step sister Julia Conti. Yes, Isaac was my step sibling too but he never made me feel like i'm not his own sister.

My brother was the only one who actually loved me and admired me to the fullest in this family. My mother was an Indian and was forced to marry my father after she saved him from an accident when he was travelling in India. I was a part of a mistake. Ever since my maa died everyone except my brother treated me like shit. Even my father. 

But then i met him. My love of my life, the most important person in my life. My husband Pierre Gasly, the playboy of the F1 track!

Once again life played a merciless game with me. The man that i'm committed to, married to , bound by vows is in love with someone else. To be more clear he's in love with my sister Julia Conti.

How pathetic am i to have a life like this huh! We've been married for about 7 months now because that was my brother's last wish before leaving us. Pierre was his friend and he thought that getting me hitched would've been the best thing to do, but to think of it , it was his biggest mistake. He knew i've always had feelings for a certain blue eyed boy, thus, his decision, but what he didn't know was that Pierre has always been in love with my sister and married me only to get close to her. Pierre cleared everything out for me once we came back from the reception right after our wedding.

Now it's been a few days, two months to be exact that they've been dating , oh! and also sleeping around. What's sad is that i've caught them a few times during action in his bedroom. The only thing that i could do is simply go up to the terrace, look up to the sky and cry my eyes out calling out my Maa and my Brother. I don't blame Isaac for anything.  It's all my fate. 

I'm a pathetic excuse of a human as my husband likes to call me, who does not deserve anything in this world except for tears and sadness.

If you're wondering if Pierre had always been like this? Then let me tell you No! 

It all started after 1 month of our marriage when  he started talking to my sister more and giving her more attention. The lies that had been fed to him by my Step Mother and Step Sister about me is what he believed at the end of the day.

Life has always been a mockery for me. I am not allowed to speak to anyone, it's not like i have any friends to talk to. The only thing i am useful for is to tag along with Pierre to a few of his races or a few other important events as his trophy wife just cause it's an obligation.

No one really knows what happens in our life everyday, not even his grid mates. I'm sure it wouldn't have made any difference seeing they are his best friends. I'm not even allowed to talk to them even if i've seen them around at parties and races. I think my attitude has probably led them to think that i'm a snobby little bitch just like my Step sister. Oh yes! I do use bad words sometimes cause why not? I'm supposed to be able to do at least certain things in life right?

It's not like Pierre is going to read what i'm writing here? 

I've given up everything, every little dreams of mine, SO if you ask me if i think that Pierre is ever gonna love me back , then my answer is No!I would never even dream about thinking that he's gonna love me back.

But there's one person who always looks out for me, he's my only friend I suppose, and that's a certain ferrari driver with a charming smile that always lifts up my mood.

Anyways,I'll just sit aside and keep loving Pierre forever, even after he leaves me for my step sister after a year of our marriage. Just 5 more months to go. 5 more months to be with him. 5 more months to stay by his side as trophy wife when he goes out for parties and races. 

His world is a big one. Where he has got his grid mates, his family, his fans, his work people , my step sister even my step mom...... Everyone except for good ol' me....

I, Mrs. Y/n Gasly is just a LOST case in his big world...

Let's see where the upcoming 5 months take us....

PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️

[accihoe]

i’m sorry you received bad news recently :(

your dave fic was so good, it’s nice for someone to write him soft and sappy it was so cute i’d love if you could write more!!

love ur blog and hope u feel better 🌙✨

Hi there!

Thank you so much for being so kind, it means so much to me.

And I'm super thrilled that you loved the Dave fic!!

Your kindness is much appreciated❤️.

Since you added a moon emoji, I thought I might incorporate that into the story.

Here's a little something just for you <3

Moonlight 🌙

Pairing: Dave Mustaine x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is awoken at night to an empty bed and seeks out for Dave. She finds him in one of the most heart-warming spots.

Warnings: mention of drugs like once

A/n: This will be sappy again. Thank you for reaching out, kind person, I appreciate you!

Also idk why but for some reason it's easier for me to write Dave fics in first person or a more personal narrative.

Xxxx

Y/N shifted onto her side, eyes blinking open and staring into the abyss of the dark room. With no idea as to why she was suddenly awake, Y/N reached out for her beloved, expecting to feel his warm skin and to pull him closer.

But she was met with cold, empty sheets. Perhaps he'd gone to the bathroom, she thought. But no, it was unlike Dave, and she heard no sounds from the bathroom. Y/N sat up, scanning the dark room for any sign of him.

She saw a small beam of light from the door that was creaked open only slightly. Perhaps he was thirsty? No, that's what they kept water in the bedroom for. Y/N slipped into her slippers and got up, fixing the strap of her silky pink nightwear and walked to the door.

She pushed the lavish door open. Her mind was flooded with memories from her apartment, her old creaking door, and how Dave promised he'd make it big and spoil her with a large house, which was exactly what he did.

She slipped out into the passage, following the stream of light. Thankfully, the upstairs floors were carpeted, so she wasn't making a noise on the floors.

"Honey?"

Y/N called out gently, not wanting to startle him.

There, Y/N found him. He was perched on the thick windowsill at the end of the passage, knees hugged to his chest, staring at the moon lit night.

She closed the remaining space, standing beside her husband.

"What're you doing up, darling?"

He asked, turning his head so that his cheek was resting on his knee.

"Bed was cold without you. And I should be asking you."

She tilted her head with a smile. He inhaled deeply, in thought, and turned his head back to the window.

His beautiful hair was tied loosely at the nape of his neck, shorter bits free, framing his handsome face. Y/N could see the frown etched on his brows, the deep worry hanging over him. His shoulders were slouched, contrasting to their usual proud and rigid stance.

Y/N reached out, laying a hand on his ankle. She stroked her thumb across his soft skin, urging him to let her in.

Dave took another deep breath, looking at the moon as he spoke.

"I dreamt about that again. About them. They day they kicked me out."

Though many years had passed since, Y/N could see that the hurt still weighed deep on his chest. She gave his ankle a gentle squeeze.

"I dreamt about different scenarios of what could've happened. Where I'd be now, with them. It was... it was nice to have my buddies back. We were all laughing, smashing watermelons. Just like we used to."

Y/N listened, his words weighing heavy on her own chest.

"I think you should maybe consider talking to them again."

"I don't know if I can. It still hurts so much. And when I do talk to them, I want to confront them. I want to know the real reason they kicked me out."

Her heart cracked more, knowing he still went without knowing the actual truth. Y/N kissed his calf, leaning her chin on his other knee. Dave smiled down at his wife, grateful for her presence. Even her silent presence comforted him.

"Why are you even out here anyway? You could've woken me up, love. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, the moon brings me peace. It reminds me of you. Obviously, I couldn't light up the room to see your beautiful face and bother you at who knows what hour. So I came here. Here to the moonlight. Here where I know you sit and wait for me, where you stare at the same moon and pray for my arrival."

His words shot into her chest, the sincerity, the way he knew her like the back of his hand. Y/N wrapped her arms around what she could reach of Dave, hugging him tightly. Her heart was at the verge of bursting, overwhelmed by her love for the man before her.

Dave looked at her rings shimmering in the moonlight.

"And in the other part of my dream, you left too. My drugs got in the way of us. You couldn't handle it anymore."

Y/N didn't know how to respond to Dave. His usage had been a tender topic in their relationship. But she knew he needed reassurance.

"Angel, I'm not leaving. This", she brought her hand up.

"ring, is but a mere symbol of my love for you. As long as my lungs fill with air, so long shall I love you. And even thereafter. You may have a problem, you may not. But that's what I'm here for. I'm your wife. And I'm going to help you through it. Alright?"

She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm supposed to be the rock of the family. I'm supposed to be protecting and comforting you. "

He said softly.

"You do, Dave. But that's not what I need tonight,"

"....It's what I need."

He finished her sentence after a few moments.

"Come to bed, it's warmer there."

Y/N pulled away, holding her hand out. Dave took her hand, hopping down. Within a swift moment, he scooped her up, bridal style, catching her by surprise. Y/N laughed, hand on his chest.

"Just like the night we got married."

She grinned.

"It was full moon too then."

He observed.

"Ohhh, we better go hide from the wear wolves."

Dave sped up his pace, and once he'd laid her down on the bed, he locked the door, tugging on it to make sure it was locked. He shimmied up the bed and underneath the covers, worming himself to where he was half laying on top of her.

"There we go. Safe and sound."

Y/N hummed, cradling a hand through his loose fringe. She raked her nails over his scalp, scratching through his hair at the base of his skull. Dave groaned, face dropping into her chest. She felt the tension ooze from his body and disintegrate into nothing.

She took his hand, kissing over his ring, and then his palm, holding his palm to her face.

"I love you, David Scott Mustaine. And know that you are not shaking me off very easily. You're stuck. At least until one of us leaves this earth."

Dave smiled at her words, moving his chin to rest on her chest so that he could stare up at her, even though she was barely visible.

"Ditto, darling."

He husked, vocals strained from the position of his throat. Y/N leaned down, pressing a kiss between his brows.

"Get some rest, handsome. We've got a long day of doing nothing waiting for us."

He chuckled at her joke and turned his head, resting his cheek against her chest. Y/N stroked his hair away from his face, dragging her nails across his cheek and jaw.

Both fell asleep within in minutes, and when the first beams of sunlight creeped past the curtains, Y/N was awake. They were still in the same position. Y/N took that as her chance to admire Dave.

His long lashes fluttered over his cheeks as he dreamt, though she could tell by his expression it was a pleasant dream. Soft freckles were scattered across his fair skin, cheeks and nose rosy from sleep. His lips were puffy and slightly parted from sleep. And his ginger locks were sprawled everywhere, hairtie lost somewhere in the bedding. Y/N used her hands to gently gather the curls, smoothing them down to relieve them of the sleep friz.

Dave stirred, shifting. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. As soon as they were open they were on Y/N.

"Good morning, handsome."

"Good morning, beautiful. I had the best dream."

Y/N raised a brow, intrigued.

"We had triplets!"

Xxxx

Hope you liked it. Thanks again for your kindness.

[nerdygaymormon]

This is a text my dad sent me. I have several thoughts.

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This is the first time he's told me that JC was gay. I knew this but was told a few years ago by my cousins. I met JC several times, he was very friendly, well liked, and played organ for the little congregation my grandparents attended.

One time we drove to his home, but my parents didn't allow us children out of the car, and JC came to the front door but kept it shut behind him so we wouldn't accidentally see his partner. I never saw JC bring his partner to family gatherings or even to church to hear him play the organ, isn't that sad?

Interestingly, in response to someone questioning if JC should be the branch organist, I heard my very Southern conservative grandma say, "What people do in their bedrooms is their business and no one else's." That stuck with me because that's definitely not the LDS way. I was a teenager at the time and having a bishop ask me about masturbation was something that happened a few times a year. My grandma was right, it was none of his business.

What a great thing it would've been if me and my gay cousin had known the truth about JC and able to talk with him about this and understood his life. Instead he had to hide in plain sight.

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I have never spoken with my dad about a desire to have children, and several years ago I put that dream to bed, so for him to randomly bring it up is surprising.

I suppose this is an evolution in his thinking. He recognizes the unfairness of LDS teachings when applied to gay people and has developed this work around. While this seems hopeful and wonderful to him, it's problematic to me.

First of all, why are these children orphans? What traumatic thing happened to their own parents?

Secondly, current LDS practice is children can only be sealed to parents, a husband & a wife. At present, a single parent cannot be sealed to their child. Does he mean I'll also be married to a woman? In other words, he believes I won't be gay?

Third, why do I need to wait to the Millennium? Couldn't I adopt some orphans now? Isn't there a need now for them to be loved and raised?

Fourth, do I have a choice in this arrangement? What about the orphaned children, do they choose who becomes their new family? Or is this type of family arrangement required for all of us?

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When people say that I'll magically be given a family after death, or that I'll be transformed to not be gay in heaven, that feels like the person is absolving themselves of any need to do anything.

There's no reason to make things better in this mortal life because things will be fixed after death. It's not necessary to wrestle with a theology that excludes queer people because queer people will not exist in heaven. It's an easy out for themselves that allows them to ignore the uncomfortable truths. And importantly, these types of comments don't provide comfort to me, the actual queer person who will be impacted by those beliefs.

Being gay is an important part of how I experience life and understand myself. My gender identity also is important for the same reasons. Stripping me of those characteristics would make me someone else, not me. By saying I won't be queer in heaven, it feels like saying they wish I wasn't queer at all, that there's something wrong about it, and they wish they didn't know me but some non-existing version of me. It would be more convenient for them if I wasn't me.

Please love me for me. Please want me to have happiness and joy in this life.