#i left the end open

[mqsi]

Can you do one where reader is a model and gavi has the biggest crush on her when he saw her walking in a fashion show and his teammates were making fun of him in the locker room and the rest can be up to you

Hey anon, thank you for requesting. I changed up the request a bit, since I already did a story about the team making fun of him,so I hope you don’t mind. 🫶🏻

——————————————————————————

Pedri and him were driving around the city,when of course fans stopped by the car asking for photos. Pedri pulled down the windows of his mini so they can take pictures. Gavi was smiling at some girls phone when he noticed a billboard in the distance. It was an ad for some clothing brand, the girl advertising it really pulled Gavi’s attention and he probably ended up looking in the wrong direction in the pic.

When Pedri finally managed to slip out of the crowd, Gavi turned to him “Can you pass here one more time?”

“What? You want me to go in circles when I barely managed to pass trough?” Pedri said, confusion and irritation evident in his tone.

“Please, I have to check something” Gavi replied making Pedri sigh and take a turn.

They were passing by the same spot again when Gavi pointed at the billboard.

“There. That girl, I need to know her name”

Pedri took a few glances off the road to see what the hell Gavi was talking about.

“I think I’ve seen her on instagram or something, but I don’t know her name” said Pedri “Can you see what brand she’s working for?”

The billboard was pretty far from the road, Gavi was stuggling to read the letters but he ended up recognizing the logo.

“I got it” he said before opening his phone to dig out the information about the model, that being you. He found you on the brands instagram page, also finding out that they were having a fashion show this weekend.

“We need to go” Gavi said.

“Where now?”

“To her fashion show”

“You want us to go to a random fashion show? And for what? It’s not like you can do anything from going to her fashion show exept watch her” Pedri replied now laughing at his friends ideas.

“Bet” Gavi replied, already searching the way to get tickets.

Gavi ended up convincing Pedri to come and they both agreed this should stay between them. Since they were famous themselves, they got seated first row. Gavi spent most of his time looking around the room instead watching what was presented to him, until you came out on the stage.

His eyes instantly locked with your body, analyzing your features. You on the other end, had to stay professional and not let your eyes wandre the room. But duting the entirety of your part, you felt an intense gaze. As you were walking back, you stole a glance at the boy that was looking at you. Your eyes locked for a second, making Gavi smile. You quickly turned your head, basically rushing off the stage.

When the show ended, Pedri and Gavi had a plan. Pedri was going to stand in the middle of the entrance practically presenting himself to public, making a crowd and letting Gavi slip behind, hopefully unnoticed. And they did just that. Gavi managed to rush in an empty hallway where he was hoping to find your changing room. As he was walking, looking around, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest stopping him in his tracks.

“Hey there big guy” the man said “you can’t go back here”

Gavi usually hated using his reputation for private life occurrences but this was a must.

“Do you know who I am?” He said.

“Woah golden boy slow down, your football doesn’t mean nothing here, it ain’t a football pitch” the man said.

You were in your room, just a few steps away and had already changed into a pair of sweats and a hoodie when you heard the commotion outside. At first, you just brushed it off proceeding to take off your earings but you got curious. Stepping out of the room, you were met with the same eyes from before. Gavi was looking at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek in hopes of you letting him trough. The man, seemingly your body guard or something, was still ordering him to leave.

“No, it’s okay let him” your voice inturrupted him.

“What? You know we can’t do this”

“As my manager, you can decide stuff I do for work. This definietly isn’t work so you might as well leave us be” you said, making your manager leave down the hall. Both you and Gavi followed him with your eyes until he was out of sight,before turning to each other.

“Hi, Im Pablo-”

“Gavi” you inturrupted him “ I know. And I’m guessing you know me as well, since you came all the way here”

“Well yeah, I wanted to see If I can get your number or something?” He said making you chukle.

“You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” You said taking a step closer.

Gavi’s face got hot, why were you so close to him all of the sudden? He put his hands in his pockets cause otherwise he would fidget with them.

“Listen, I can’t give you my number right here, there are cameras around and that would make a headline everywhere, don’t you think? But..” you said before slowly reaching to your pocket and signaling Gavi to look in that direction. He got the memo and took a step closer and you slipped a card in his hand, which he quickly stuffed in his pocket.

“There’s my manager’s number written on it. Call tomorrow, and I will answer. We have a meeting and I’ll make sure to answer the call myself and step away from him. After all,he is always distracted at meetings,trying to organize my schedule” you said smiling at him.

Gavi smirked, biting his lip.

“Thanks”

“Well, I’ll see if it was worth it” you smiled back, now turning away from him so you can get back in the room “Oh and take a second exit down the hall so people don’t see you come from here” you said before dissapearing into the room. Gavi stood there for a few moments, just smiling at the thought of you.

——————————————————————————

a/n: poor Pedri still being outside alone with the fans

[cracklewink]

Harmony Syndrome Part 5/5

The last chapter of my mlp infection AU! Thank you to everyone who followed along. Some final thoughts on my twitter @cracklewink if anyone's interested : )

[aardvaark]

i like how leverage throws in random details that are never elaborated on. hardison gets himself a front row seat at the oscars each year, but we only see that in a single throwaway flashback. parker broke a guy's fingers for touching her and it wasn't even a plot point, it was just one in a series of memories of stabbings and so forth. eliot continually knows extremely specific information which implies some extremely specific scenarios he's been in. the more we find out about sophie's backstory, the more questions it raises about what the hell is wrong with her. and the more we find out about nate's backstory, the more questions it raises about what the hell is wrong with him.

[cubbihue]

If Timmy struggled with adjusting to magic because he was raised on earth, does that mean this is the reason Peri also struggles? Since in his early years he grew up on earth with his parents?

Yup! There's a multitude of reasons why Peri struggles so much, but they all lie in his origins. Peri was born from a wish! And Wishes, well. They're not meant to last long. Most wishes become unstable as the years go by, but Peri's persisted because he's an entire living being!

CosWan initially feared Peri wouldn't grow up properly, but he turned out nearly as fine as any other Fairy would! Probably!!

Growing up on Earth, being related to the VonStrangles, born from a 10 year old's wish, living past the lifespan of wishes, beyond that of humans... Each part is rather small, but when added together, it culminates into a very... very unstable baby.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Instability: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[sabigawa]

Griffguts Weekend 2024 | Day 3 | Asphodel

Death and mourning

oh wow look at me posting on the third day of the event Exactly As Planned, not two days late at all! 😇

this is a sort of companion piece to this, which I posted on the second day. Sorry for the angst :')

detail shot under the cut

[astrowarr]

i honestly don't think grian betrayed scar in the finale at all, even by final killing lizzie and jimmy

grian was abundantly clear from the start who his alliance was with: scar, and scar alone. he outright told scar on multiple occasions not only that his friendship didn't extend to scar's allies, but even that he still intended on killing jimmy as revenge. scar knew full well where grian stood with his teammates; if he didn't know, it was because he was being intentionally ignorant about it.

grian kept his promises. the closest he gets to a betrayal is when he first sets up the trap and says "we could get a triple kill," but even then, he doesn't. he goes to great lengths not to kill scar; after scar has lost his final life, he laments as to how the bloodlust made it so so tempting to just kill scar, but he couldn't because their alliance was "too strong." grian avoids using the bambunker trap until after scar is dead, and says "my only issue with this trap was that i was going to kill scar."

grian didn't betray scar. he went out of his way not to. he lived up to every single promise he made, and he didn't even force scar to feel it. because he knows how badly it hurts to watch everyone you love die in front of you. so he made his intentions clear, and in the end, he even managed to spare scar the survivor's guilt that clings to his hands like blood and gunpowder. a small mercy that was, perhaps

[redbean-nom]

A handful of "Boba Fetts" (none of them know what his armor actually looks like)

[saintaviator]

moar hl scraps…. does a pose

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Parallel Lines and Brothers.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[flwrkid14]

A Ghost of a Chance: Tim Moves to Amity Park

Tim Drake never expected to end up in Amity Park.

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d move to voluntarily—not if you valued normalcy, peace, or, you know, not being attacked by spectral entities on the regular. But when Danny asked—his voice soft, eyes hopeful—Tim couldn’t say no.

Amity was Danny’s home.

And maybe, just maybe, it could be Tim's too.

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

At first, it wasn’t bad. Tim had seen worse. Gotham had prepared him for everything, right? But there was something about Amity Park that made the shadows seem deeper, the nights colder. The constant hum of the town’s protective shields, the flicker of green in the sky—like the city itself was watching.

Danny blended back in seamlessly, slipping into old routines like he’d never left.

Tim… didn’t.

The ghosts were different. Gotham’s rogues, at least, followed patterns. There was a rhythm to crime, a predictability to chaos. Ghosts didn’t play by those rules. They came and went as they pleased, driven by grudges older than time. One day they’d fight beside you, the next, they’d haunt you.

Tim couldn’t get a read on them. Couldn’t strategize. Couldn’t feel useful.

And the more time passed, the more he felt like he was sinking.

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

The bats haunted him too. Every time his phone buzzed, he half-expected to see a message from Dick or Bruce, maybe even a snarky text from Jason. But it was always quiet. No calls. No emergencies. The silence felt heavier here, like it pressed against his chest.

Danny had Amity. He had the support of people who knew him. Tim was just... there. A shadow on the edge of Danny's world. Everyone knew Danny—Phantom, their hero. They didn’t know Tim. Didn’t know who Danny was to him. More than that, they didn’t seem to care.

Tim couldn’t shake the feeling. Replaceable. At least when Jason had thrown that word at him, Tim knew there was always something he could work on to feel needed. A case to solve, a system to hack, a mission to plan.

With Danny, there was... nothing. No crises to solve, no skills that set him apart. No place where he fit.

Danny didn’t need him.

And maybe that was the worst part.

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

They started drifting. Danny would leave in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts Tim didn’t understand. He’d wake up alone in a bed that felt colder by the day. The quiet wasn’t the comforting silence of the Cave or the stillness of a stakeout. It was empty. Lonely.

Tim wasn’t built for this kind of stillness.

One night, he followed Danny. Watched from the shadows as Danny fought a ghost—a brutal, violent storm of green energy and ice. Danny won, of course. Danny always won. But when he turned back, hair white and eyes glowing, something flickered. Something inhuman.

Tim realized, he doesn’t need me.

He confronted Danny that night. “Tim, you can’t follow me out there.” “Why not? You think I can’t handle it?” “It’s not that—” “Then what is it?” Danny’s eyes softened. “This place… it’s dangerous. The things I face, they’re not like Gotham’s criminals.” “I know danger, Danny. I’ve lived with it my whole life.” “That’s not the point.”

Tim’s voice cracked. “Then what is?”

Danny didn’t answer. And Tim didn’t press.

He stayed because leaving felt like admitting defeat. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, he wondered if love was enough. If Amity Park would ever feel like home. If Danny’s ghosts were more than just spectral enemies—if they were the distance growing between them.

He’d jumped too quickly, left too much behind, trusted too blindly. Maybe he’d wanted to believe that leaving Gotham meant he could start over, that he could belong to something simpler. Easier.

But it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easier.

Tim missed the bats. Missed the chaos, the noise, the feeling of being needed. Here, he felt like a shadow—an echo of a life he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back. And if he stayed too long, he wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of him. He'd become just another ghost haunting Amity Park.

[aroaceleovaldez]

What is the PR disaster in question that made Rick announce TSATS? I wasn’t active in the online fandom at that point

Of course! This was awhile ago so it figures people don't remember it/aren't familiar:

Basically a couple years back (2020) the fandom had some posts circulate discussing the ways different characters in the Riordanverse were written poorly or offensively. There was a masterpost that went around tumblr but the two major points people were particularly focusing on were Piper and Samirah (particularly because Piper had featured prominently again in Trials of Apollo recently and the third MCGA book had further emphasized and discussed Samirah being Muslim, since it was supposed to take place during Ramadan). Basically each had multiple posts breaking down the ways they were depicted incorrectly or offensively. The entire fandom for a little bit was VERY intensely discussing this (and it's around this time the "RR crit" tag got very popularized on tumblr - it did exist before, but suddenly was being used VERY frequently - cause it was that wide-spread - though the discussion took over basically every side of Riordaverse social media on different platforms). People really wanted Rick to respond to these criticisms, so he did!

He made two blog posts, one about Piper and one about Samirah. He has since deleted both so the links are to archived versions. The short version: he essentially tried to justify his poor research and double-down that he hadn't written them offensively, actually, people were just being mean to him. The fandom, of course, reacted poorly to this.

[Further elaborated events under the cut since this got a bit lengthy]

(Fun fact, this all happened within a month or so of the time i posted an open letter on aphobic tropes in the Riordanverse that Rick replied to, and then he immediately followed with announcing that Reyna was intended to be ace-coded [which cause a LOT of fandom debate] before Rick dipped for a couple of weeks, and then came back to post the blog posts in response to Piper and Sam stuff. So I like to jokingly refer to this as "The time I imploded the fandom/drove Rick off of twitter." Twas I that set the house ablaze.)

Rick fully left social media after this and the LT Musical social media manager became Rick's social media manager for the time being.

So this all happened June/July of 2020. Tower of Nero would end up being published in October of 2020 and a few months after that Rick would state that he was done with the series and wouldn't be writing any more series installments involving Percy, and also that he wouldn't be writing a Nico quest following Tower of Nero as it "wasn't his place to" and encouraged the community to write their own versions of Nico's story.

The community continued to circulate the tumblr posts and discuss the topics of Rick's offensive character depictions, and this is also where we see the dramatic shift in how the fandom depicts Piper in fanwork (though in most cases it is admittedly not an improvement 😬) because of all this discussion. This is also around the time when the fandom brought Viria under scrutiny claiming that she was whitewashing Piper as part of the same discussions, through the justification that she was drawing Annabeth as having tan skin (which she does canonically), and if Annabeth has tanner skin then Piper then that's whitewashing Piper? Except they were using completely separate images of not fully rendered Piper art versus Annabeth in dramatic lighting, so it's all very awkward and poor logic, and did actually get kind of racist. A lot of people were calling it "Tannabeth Blackchase" (yeah, i know) or similar and a common sentiment you'd see repeated is "Don't draw Annabeth as having darker skin than Piper, because that's offensive/racist/whitewashing." (Note: it was not phrased "don't draw Piper as having lighter skin than Annabeth" - we also won't get into certain offensive depictions of Native Americans, but I digress). But yeah, the Annabeth stuff in all that did not age well at all.

Anyways, in October of 2021 however Rick would announce that he was co-writing The Sun And The Star - with a lot of heavy emphasis on how Mark Oshiro works as a sensitivity reader, and some false advertising from the official social media that Mark Oshiro was the first time a non-Riordan author would be collaborating on the series (disregarding the ghostwriters completely). One of the big criticisms in the breaking down of issues in Rick's writing was his lack of ever seeking a sensitivity reader, and fans claiming that a sensitivity reader could solve a lot of the problems. This was basically Rick's "look! I totally listened!!!!" (though it did little to actually improve things, based on the book) and in TSATS as well Piper gets a large cameo at the end where the text very directly addresses a lot of points made in criticism of Rick's writing of her.

We also then of course got the CoTG trilogy later, explicitly stated to be for advertising purposes for the show.

So basically, short version: Rick came under scrutiny for a lot of offensive writing within the span of two months, made some bad blog posts doubling down about it, left social media. TOA ends. Rick says he wasn't going to continue the series/write what would become TSATS. Community celebrates the end of of the franchise but also continues to discuss Rick's poor writing and the blog posts at length. Rick suddenly announces TSATS and Mark Oshiro's involvement. Everybody gets distracted from being mad. Show announcement stuff also happens and the discussions peter out.

[queerofthedagger]

fingon, who was left behind and abandonend by just about anyone in his family at some point, who died alone because maedhros did not return to him in time either. how many times can you be second choice no matter how little it is about you and not have that fester into bitter, bitter anger. how much worse does it get, at some point, that it isn't even about you but you simply matter less than whatever else was more important just then. how long can you cling to the rationale before you always see everyone with one foot already out of the door. how long can you keep loving and loving and loving despite,until there is nothing left to give. and then keep giving anyway because, after all, you know what it's like to be abandonend

[starry-bi-sky]

more clone^2 memes because i think they're funny

[hijinxinprogress]

12 year old tim realizing robin’s not coming back to gotham and deciding that it’s Batman’s fault so he has to ruin the little bit of sanity and peace of mind Bruce has managed (read: struggled) to keep in his grasp:

[hom3landr]

Writer’s Block

18+

In which Homelander thoroughly enjoys a quiet night in, his hand, and some ao3.

CW: Selfcest adjacent, Anal play, Masturbation,

“His hand wraps firmly around your throat as he bends you over your desk with a low groan. The hard bulge in his costume grinds against your ass and each filthy thrust causes your hips to bump painfully against the wooden edge. The various knick knacks and office supplies decorating your space rattle with the movement. His hot breath causes you to moan as he whispers into your ear.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Homelander groans low in his throat as he strokes his cock languidly. The leather of the couch that was cool at first is now growing warm from the heat of his body. His cock twitches in his hand and a drop of precum drips down his knuckles onto the cushion. He’s taking it slow tonight. He intends to draw out his pleasure now that he finally has the entire space to himself for the night.

Now that he has a son to raise, he’s had to stop being so bold about where and when he decides to take a load off and relax. Luckily he was able to pawn Ryan off on Victoria and Zoe for a sleepover. Vicky wasn’t happy about the surprise but he isn’t sure why. His son is a fucking delight. He plans to make the most of his free time as he reclines lazily and uses the remote in his free hand to scroll through the fanfiction on the screen.

He had found the stories maudlin and pathetic at first when he first stumbled onto the online community dedicated to writing about him. They made him laugh at how desperate and pathetic they were. Even the ego boost wasn’t enough to erase the disdain towards the nobodies of the world who deigned to think that he would ever want to fuck them. He’s so pristine in the stories. A white knight handsome savior to sweep them away from their problems. If only they knew the real him and not the puppet Vought made him into.

But that was when he had Stormfront on his arm. A perfect goddess to chase away the pangs of loneliness and who any ordinary mud person would pale in comparison to. When he lost her, he began to see the value in such pathetic fantasies. As he lost more and more control over his surroundings, it was comforting to disappear into this place where the world still revolved around him and he could see proof of devotion that wasn’t just the steadily dropping points tacked to his name.

People still wanted him.

And sure, things might be looking up for him now. He’s head of Vought and he finally has his beloved son by his side. He has an army of mindless fans ready to fight for him. But his bed is still cold and a man has needs. There’s an earnest quality to the writing that scratches an itch that isn’t satisfied by the subpar porn Vought churns out. This is personal.

He grips his cock a little firmer and he twitches as he runs his thumb over his sensitive slit. He continues to read.

“He can smell your arousal. It coats the back of his throat and he can taste it on the roof of his mouth.”

Homelander unconsciously licks his lips. It’s not hard for him to conjure up the smell of sex in his mind. His own pleasure is already heady in his own nose. He whines and brings two fingers up to his lips and sucks. The salty tang of his own slick is filthy and his whole body throbs. His hipbones ache as he imagines what it would be like to be bent over, to lose himself to pleasure completely, to have all the worries and concerns knocked out of his brain. He can understand why this fantasy would appeal to someone so insignificant as the author. It’s not a perspective that he would normally ever indulge in but there’s something so tempting about it.

“You struggle to catch your breath and muster any kind of defense as he continues to take up more of your space. One hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, cutting off your airflow even further. He can hear you clench around nothing and a smug smile spreads across his face.”

Still sucking on his fingers, his other hand drops the remote and wraps itself around his neck. He presses down cautiously and the restriction of his own airflow causes a wave of heat to flow through his veins. He bucks up into nothing with a low grunt.

“He presses hot and hungry kisses against your jaw as his free hand grabs the waistband of your work trousers and tugs. The fabric rips easily and you can’t even gasp in surprise as his fingers delve under your underwear to press against your hole.”

Homelander follows suit, taking his spit slick fingers out of his mouth and reaching down to tease around his rim. He gasps, sensitive. He’s no stranger to touching himself here but it’s like a shock every time just how nice it feels. He wonders what the inbred brain dead hicks who worship him would think if they knew their fearless hero liked a little ass play. Would they still grovel? Would they keep him on his pedestal? He laughs bitterly at the irony of his power over people still being reliant on fitting into the narrow insipid boxes they feel like putting him in. He has everything he’s always wanted but he’s still fucking trapped.

Tears prick at his eyes. He’d started this just wanting to feel good but now his stomach is uneasy and his erection is already starting to flag. Even alone, he can’t escape people’s expectations of him. He removes the hand from his throat and wipes at his eyes, self loathing building tight in his chest at how pathetic he is. He can’t even get himself off properly and now he’s crying over it. He grabs the remote and goes to turn off the screen in self pity but his eyes catch the next words.

“Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the situation. Everything is happening so fast and so much.

“Shhhhh” He whispers in your ear. “You might as well just let it happen. Let yourself feel good. It’s not like you have a choice.”

“It’s not like you have a choice.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He can hear his own voice echoing in his head. It’s familiar and he follows where it leads. He brushes reality aside as he allows himself to sink back into the fantasy. He thinks about the ache in his hipbones and a body pressing him down and forcing him to relax. He puts his hand back on his throat, this time pressing harder until it borders on the hint of pain as his head swims. Idly he wonders where this written version of himself came from. How one measly author amidst the rush of saccharine romances managed to capture this raw real side of him.

He opens his eyes and squints so the world is a little fuzzy. The words on the screen blur but are still readable and as long as he has those he can block anything else out.

“Your body goes limp against the desk, becoming little more than a doll for him to play with. He dips his fingers into you, stretching you just enough to make you gasp before pulling back. He’s gentle but inescapable and there’s nothing that you can do except succumb to his touches. You moan pathetically as he finally takes pity on you, two deft fingers finally pressing in fully as they twist and curl until they find the spot that makes your legs tremble and shake.”

He whimpers as his fingers delve inside. It’s been a while since he’s had the opportunity to do this and he’s tight. He huffs and he can feel the bobbing of his adam’s apple against his hand. He can’t move yet as he focuses on relaxing his muscles until he’s no longer at risk of pushing his fingers right back out. The stretch feels good and his cock quickly swells back to its previous hardness. He’s torn between reaching down to stroke himself or staying put and following along with the whims of the story. He crooks his fingers slightly and a strangled yelp leaves his lips as lightning shoots up and down his spine.

“Touch yourself.” Homelander instructs as he continues to scissor his fingers and stretch you out properly. “C’mon, don’t make me do all the work.”

Homelander wastes no time. He’s eager now that he has permission. He wishes that there was a way to keep the pressure on his neck but he’ll have to think of something for next time. His cock throbs under his palm as he begins to stroke himself. The room fills with eager wet sounds and it allows him to sink deeper into the fantasy. He reads on, eager to know what he’ll do next. It baffles him why anyone would want to leave him now that he knows how good being with him feels.

He’d had an opportunity before, with Doppelganger. But it was wrong. It wasn’t him. It was just a pathetic needy imitation. So ready to please that it reeked of desperation. He’d seen something in “his” face that day that turned his stomach. He’d needed it gone.

This is different. This fictional version of him is perfect, strong, determined, and willing to just take what he wants. He’s perfect, like marble.

Homelander moans echo through the penthouse, filling up all the open space and desecrating the ears of the founding fathers. He has no need to be shy now that he has the place to himself again for the night. His cock is leaking all over his hand and dripping down onto the leather. The wet sloppy sounds of him working himself over are practically deafening to his sensitive hearing.

“That’s it, Sweetheart. Doesn’t it feel good to take some initiative. It’s a good thing the rest of the tower doesn’t have my hearing.” He goes quiet for a moment, allowing the sloppy sounds to echo through the empty room. “You would not believe some of the things I’ve heard go on around here. For example, do you remember fucking yourself in the bathroom after I surprised you in the elevator the other day?”

A wave of shame and panic floods through you as the memory of the elevator comes back to you. You were too flustered to say anything then. You had been surprised that he would bother with an elevator at all. The masculine vetiver scent of his cologne was subtle but in the confined space it seemed almost suffocating. You hadn’t said anything and he didn’t bother to even acknowledge your presence. He didn’t even look your way. Still, the strange intensity of the encounter had you running into the empty bathroom to relieve some stress. You wouldn’t have been able to concentrate otherwise.

“Nothing? I could practically smell you during my meeting. I could definitely hear you rubbing away.” He leans down to nip at your ear.”

Homelander briefly lets go of his cock to massage his balls, groaning loudly. He wants to prolong this but he can feel himself reaching the end of his rope. His abdomen is sore from the clenching of his muscles and he can feel his heartbeat in every fiber of his body. His lungs can’t seem to get enough air as he gasps at the wave of arousal.

Something prickles at the back of his brain. The story ignites some synapse that sparks an unimportant memory. It’s not enough to draw him out of his fantasy but somewhere in his hindbrain he logs it.

He imagines someone hearing him right now and his cock twitches. He gives a comforting squeeze as he wiggles the fingers inside himself again.

Fuck

“The combination of his filthy words along with your eager rubbing has you coming undone before he even fucks you. You feel truly visible for the first time.. Homelander saw that embarrassing needy part of you and he wanted it. He tracked you down once the rest of the crime analytics team had left and bent you right over your desk.

“There you go. Doesn’t it feel better to come on my fingers instead of your own?”

FUCK

Homelander’s vision goes red and hot as his fingers hit the spot inside him juuuuuust right. He tenses, entire body locking up, balls tightening, toes curling against the floor. He hangs weightless for a single moment before the storm of pleasure hits like a tidal wave. Hot ropes of come splatter all over his thighs and chest as he frantically strokes himself, milking himself of every last drop of pleasure. He bears down on his hand as he rides himself through it. He can hear his own voice ringing in his ears, the perfect voice of his best self.

“Doesn’t it feel better to come on my fingers instead of your own?”

In his mind he’s bent over the desk with a warm body against his back. His hips are sore but his muscles are pleasantly relaxed for once. He feels safe and protected. A strong hand grips his hip to hold him steady as the other Homelander removes his fingers with a soft wet noise.

He slumps into the leather, pleasantly sated.

Once he’s regained his senses a bit, he reaches for the remote and clicks off the tv. He’ll have to remember to finish the entire fic later when his cock has recovered a bit. The black screen reflects his face and Homelander is surprised to see the pleasure drunk smile on his face. He can’t remember the last time he smiled like this. Probably not since… He quickly shakes his head and shoves all thought of her from his brain. He doesn’t need anyone else to get off. He’s just fine on his own.

The little brain worm from earlier returns now that the room is quiet and distractions are gone. His mind still itches. Homelander clicks the tv back on and scrolls back up with a frown.

Crime analytics?

Most of the fics he reads are mindlessly generic. Most depict a banal office atmosphere when the setting takes place at Vought tower. It’s very easy for him to tell when the author is an outsider. Name dropping a specific department is new. Not to mention, the way the office was described in the beginning was eerily similar to the large room where the crime department is located…eerily similar.

Homelander’s heart pounds as he puts together the pieces. The author works at Vought and he knows in which department. The author has likely crossed paths with him. In fact, Homelander’s stomach tightens as he skims the fic, the author has probably shared an elevator with him.

He checks the upload date.

One week ago…

The unimportant memory floods back.

One week ago, he’d frightened a mousy crime analyst when he’d stopped the elevator for a ride. The little analyst never even looked directly at him. It was typical and not even worth the effort to get annoyed by. The sound of a fluttering heart and the scent of adrenaline were common occurrences no matter where he went. The moment he exited was the moment he’d already begun to forget.

Homelander sighs contentedly as he closes his eyes and lets himself bask in the afterglow. Curiosity sated, he lets his mind wander. Maybe he’ll surprise his little writer tomorrow and let them properly enjoy the fantasy this time. It’s the least he can do.

He reaches down and touches his hip, the phantom soreness still lingering.

After all, he knows just how good it feels to be fucked by him.

[bsptourist]

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