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kousanosgf · 3 months ago

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men, minors dni

sevika x prostitute!reader

sometimes life gets worse, before it becomes better. luckily sevika ready to help you with it.

a\n: i hate how half of this fandom makes "sexy sevika in a brothel" jokes. this was written with the strong despisement for anyone who supports swork and thinks that it's freeing in any shape or form. it's NOT a light one, i'd say, so please be careful with the content you're consuming. also inform me if i should change something about the tags or tws

tw: mention of suicide, not explicit describtion of SA, drug abuse

tags: angst, hurt\comfort (kinda?), no smut (idk if i can call it sfw, sex is mentioned but not with sevika), happy ending

whispers run through the main hall, they won't stop repeating for half an hour at least, every worker and guest is too excited or nervous to be in the haunting dog of zaun's presence. "she's here". "sevika came". it won't be surprising if someone suggests placing a bet who she'll choose next, now that her favorite girl is dead.

well, that's the thing really, you couldn't care less for anyone in here and especially sevika. your best friend is dead and you can't even mourn her properly, because there's always "clients demand our full attention, girls, don't forget that" and "no alcohol or drugs, unless our guests want it, girls". there's numbing pain tugging at you heart, making you want to vomit every time you have to think of your loss and there's no way to drink yourself to oblivion to not feel all this.

so far, the night was calm. the only man for the night left you alone an hour ago after mindlessly fucking you face down into the mattress for couple of minutes and disappearing as soon as he finished. you could only hope for it go as smoothly but luck wasn't on your side for some time now. a shadow looms over before you notice who it belongs to.

you raise your eyes. sevika. "of course," you think, "cause the day needs to get worse".

"are you free?" she asks bluntly. no greetings, no small talk. that's normal really, manageable. it's usually way worse when the client wants to spill all their heartache or frustration before what they actually came for.

"not even gonna buy girl a drink?" you try to put on your prettiest face, smiling coyly and frowning in a fake pout, hoping she'll let you get at least a bit drunk.

"no, come on". she just turns around and heads towards the second floor to the private rooms.

a scream dies somewhere on a tip of your tongue, leaving sour taste.

you have to hurry after her, people as powerful as sevika hate nothing more than to wait and there's no reason to get on her bad side. it's nerve wracking, scary even, to guess what kind of client she will be. there're not much women who come here and not one of them has ever chosen you. a risk of sevika getting frustrated and dissatisfied with your inexperience is high and definitely not what you want since if the customer is angry then madame is angry and you'll be punished in some way.

you take a look at sevika again, following her step by step. she holds herself with great confidence, understandable for someone with such a status, broad shoulders, perfect posture, full heavy steps that make people move out of her path.

you reach the room finally, dreadfully. sevika sits down in the chair waiting for you to lock the door. as you do so, you turn back to her, sliding the straps off your minidress down.

"wait, no." sevika stops you. "i'm not here for this. just sit down." she gestures to the bed and you follow her orders, confused but not daring to ask.

the silence follows. you sit in your place trying not to breathe too hard, a blank expression on your face, while sevika thinks something through.

"you knew yana?" you basically jump in place, hearing your friend's name. "i mean... she was your friend?"

"she is my friend." you snap unexpectedly even for yourself but don't correct the words or make an attempt at apologizing no matter how dangerous that move is.

the corner of sevika's lip rises a little in a smirk but it's gone as fast as it appeared.

"she's dead." "doesn't change the fact that she's my friend." gods, why can't you shut up.

there's a pure rage boiling inside of you. it's painful when no one in this fucking place took time to acknowledged her death. another whore killing herself, what's the news really? but this... it's worse, the way sevika seems more amused with the fact than, you don't know, at least sad that one of her favorites is no longer here.

silence again. sevika studies you like she's trying to find something. the gaze is different from what you usually get from customers, burning, suffocating glances of men who look you over, imagine what you would look like naked under them before making there choice and passing several bills to madame.

"you have a lot of friends here?" what the fuck is she on about?

"i don't run my mouth if that's what you need."

"that's not what i asked." the smirk again. "but whatever."

she lights a cigarette and makes a few puffs. as the smell reaches you, you can't help but scrunch your nose, never appreciative of the smell. as she sees your dissatisfaction, she clicks her tongue and reaches for the ashtray, putting the cigarette down.

"here's what we gonna do. i'll sleep here till morning and you just... i don't know, do your thing? sleep too?" she waves her hand in the air.

you have to take a moment before her words actually lock in. "what?" sevika doesn't strike you as the type to use some euphemisms when she talks about sex, "sleep" here actually seems like she means it.

"you heard me. i already paid for the whole night if you're worried about it." she gives no further explanation and just leans back, dropping her head on the chair and closing her eyes. it's better not to disturb her. there's not much to say or do for you so you just sit there for a while, listening to the steady breathing and fall asleep yourself, not ready to give up a prospect of a calm night. when you wake up in the morning, sevika isn't there.

she comes and goes. for the last two weeks sevika visited you almost every day. the nights go basically the same. nothing much happens, though she becomes more and more chatty with every meeting.

you know her favorite food, know how her day went, know what she thinks about every chem-baron. in return sevika knows what're your favorite flowers, knows what your childhood was like, knows how you got into the brothel.

she's always so nonchalant about her questions, trying not to make a big deal out of it, like she's simply asking to fill the space. but working in a place like this teaches you read people easily and it becomes clear very quickly that sevika is actually searching for something. you're not sure if it's safe to give her the information she wants to hear but it's been too long since you had a person to talk to. it becomes easy to pretend like she actually interested in your stories and opinions.

she also now sleeps in a bed with you, leaving her place in the chair on the third night when you offer it yourself. she's one of those people who can fall asleep on a whim anywhere and anytime, you guess. or she's just very good at pretending.

and when she does fall asleep you lie awake, looking at her, replaying everything she said earlier in your head, trying to make sense of it, of her.

you get caught eventually. one night she just opens her eyes as she wakes up (if she's slept at all) and looks straight at you. both of you lie on your sides, facing each other. nothing is said for good five minutes, she's studying your features as well as you do hers in a dim glow of the lamp post outside the window.

"wanna know a secret?" sevika finally breaks the comfortable silence, a light smirk on her lips. you nod your head slowly, not breaking the eye contact.

"i'm getting you out of here."

the sentence doesn't register, so you have to ask her to repeat it.

"i'm getting. you. out." she says again, slowly, dividing the words.

you rise up swiftly, leaning yourself on the elbow. "you're not funny." of course it's some twisted joke, what else could it be. anger ready to overtake you easily.

the smirk grows wider on her face. "im serious, sweetheart."

that's when she tells you. probably the craziest thing you've ever heard. her visits to the brothel were never for any sexual pleasures, mostly getting intel for her and, by extant, silco's plans. till couple of months ago when she took on a mission of getting such a business out of zaun.

yana was suppose to be one of the first women who sevika and her team would save. they were late in the end.

"why didn't you tell her?" you ask partially frustrated at the coincidence of circumstances and sevika. if only yana knew that the help was on the way, she would still be alive, probably free from her prison. instead she just couldn't handle the life she thought she's bound to till her dying day or when she'll become old enough for madame to throw her out on the streets cause she wouldn't bring enough money.

"i was afraid to risk it, she was too unstable to be trusted such an information for a long term." sevika sighs heavily, dragging a hand through her face. "that was a wrong move on my end."

"and yet you're telling me this two weeks later? there were no guarantee for you that i wouldn't do the same."

"i... had to take a gamble. i knew basically nothing about you before. yana did share some stories but that wasn't enough to ease my anxieties."

you talk and talk and talk. about yana, about your life here. you throw question after question to her and she doesn't seem to get tired of answering you.

"why me? or why... not everyone at once?"

"it's impossible to do this in one go without much practice. look at this as us dipping toes in the water."

"so i'm a guinea pig?" sevika opens her mouth to argue but closes it immediately, realizing that you're only teasing her.

"no, you're something i can fix. give me a week more, okay?" she says it with such confidence in her voice that you got nothing else to do but to believe her.

sevika comes every night now, trying to take as much as she can of your working time so others won't get to you. there's a slight tug of guilt somewhere in your heart, because there's probably girls in the brothel who need this more, who can handle less than you, who just got here and weren't that much ruined with the way people treat them like some meat to jerk off to.

"your arm."

you look over yourself. it is an old bruise that got her concerned, one of the clients getting too harsh. you don't remember much, he let you have a blunt, you didn't ask of what, before everything occurred. it's yellow already, few days more and it'll disappear.

"fuck. probably smudged my makeup somewhere."

sevika's look is heavy, fixed on the spot.

"it's nothing, don't worry."

"it's not nothing." she's now looking straight into your eyes, there's a dangerous fire gleaming and it's impossible to hold her gaze so you just look to the side, noticing her fingers digging into an armrest. it is not nothing, you both know that. but all you can think of is that you would love to feel sevika's palm on you, covering the damned bruise, letting you dream it was never there.

no, you deserve to run as much as the next person. and it's not like you're gonna be the only one. like sevika told you, it's only the beginning.

"good news", sevika says and there's a smile on her face. you're not sure if you ever saw her smile. not a grin or a smirk that she gives everyone here but a genuine, warm smile. she looks lovely with it and you can't help but smile too back at her, not even knowing the reason.

"like what?"

the morning air is cool, autumn starts to take the reigns of nature. there's only a set of underwear and a nightgown on you so you shiver and hug yourself. you couldn't take any of your belongings, she said yesterday night, when she finally announced that it's time to set the plans in motion. some kind of big cloth, a poncho, you regester not as fast as you'd like to, lends on your shoulders, warm from the body heat of it's owner.

"sorry, that's all i got for now. need to get to the safe house, have actually some clothes for you."

you nod dumbfounded and just follow her. everything feels like a dream really, that about to be ripped away and you'll simply wake up back in the room that smells of head numbing incenses, ready to greet another customer.

you look over the clothes she gave you, simple pair of brown jeans, a black turtleneck and a jacket. the jeans are a size too big for you but nothing a belt can't fix.

"the plans to get you out changed so quick, i completely forgot to buy something your size."

"was it for her?" you don't need the answer, you know it already.

"yeah."

there're tears falling down that you can't control. you cry silently, turned away from sevika. you're not sure if she actually doesn't notice or just wants to give you space when she finally says "alright, gonna step out for you to change, meet me in the kitchen when you're ready."

as she takes a step to the door you lounge yourself at her, grabbing calloused hand and tugging it to your waist, looking for contact. now only you can do is cry, your sobs becoming louder and louder, your throat hurts like hell, you won't be able to speak later for sure.

there's a stream of "thankyouthankyouthankyou" coming from your mouth, your body basically presses inside sevika's. she doesn't answer. her other hand gently covers the crown of your head, guiding your tearful face to her chest and she lets you rest it there.

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n

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sweetshuga · 1 month ago

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My two cents on the messed up shit that's happening...

TW: sa, r@pe & js fucked up behavior.

I don't consider myself a big blog, but I do have quite a bit of followers and this post is made to spread awareness.

There's always a line you CANNOT cross – even in fiction.

Writing about bdsm or just s&m is alright, whatever, but writing about r@pe, consensual or not, is MESSED up.

"It's just fiction." If you think that then you're fucking IGNORANT.

I write kinky fics, like fucking kinky shit as you all know, but you would never catch me writing about Matt or Chris r@ping/sa'ing someone even if it's consensual. Why? Because I have enough knowledge to understand how fucked up that is.

Flirting with minors? Let's not fucking do that and let's BE responsible adults. A 28 year old should NOT be talking to a teenager that way.

I'm 18 and even I fucking know that. That speaks for itself, doesn't it?

More people should LISTEN and LEARN.

DON'T CHOOSE TO BE IGNORANT!!!

If you want to know exactly what happened... Here & Here

random tags – @sagesturns @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @maliabakerscurls @mattsjuul @naviiq @nateismybf @nickgurl4life @blondiesturniolo @bendysbitches @vickytaa @bernardsbendystraws @candysturn @chrissbug333 @x0x0bunny @zebonos @zombiesturniolo @liiixsturniolos @lockettesstage @kenzlie @jonislvr @hjvi @helpimateenagerinlove @hearts4werka @giveheavensomehell @grungefck @ghsface @vanteguccir @waitforyrlove @darksturnz @delilahsturniolo @dominicfikeenthusiast @strnlslut @angelicwh1spers @pasteldreams @whore4mattsturniolo @phone4pills @phosphns @oldermenwh0re @immaqulate @ivysturnss @issysh3ll @unknvhx @user1smvtysturniolo @y3sterdaysproblem @yummyest @trevorsgodmother @thenickgirl @leoslaboratory

#isa rambles 𓆩♡𓆪 #IMPORTANT #sturniolo triplets #fanfiction #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo

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stormz369 · 4 months ago

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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 14

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: Penguin attack; implication of violence, possibility of SA mentioned briefly

wc: 1.9k

Chapter Selection

In an instant, Jason was between me and the men running in from the broken windows. Chaos erupted; people were running and screaming all around us. I clung to the back of Jay’s suit jacket, shaking. Everything was numb as he guided me toward the door, always staying between me and the danger.

“Everyone against the wall! Money and jewelry in the bags!” A sharp voice cackled.

Fuck! The necklace! The thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I scrambled to remove it; sliding it into my bra. I took a moment to beg the universe; let these goons be non-groping goons. Jay pulled me along toward the doors, we were almost out! Just a few more feet…

“That means you, Red!” One of the goons shouted, stepping between us and the doors, his gun pointed straight at us. I froze, gripping Jason's hand tightly. He growled, a primal sound in the back of his throat, staring the man down. The goon shifted on his feet, shouting; “I … I mean it; against the wall!”

I gently tugged Jay’s hand, pulling him toward the nearest wall with me. He continued to watch the goon in front of us, pulling me against his chest. I caught the briefest glimpse of Jason’s eyes; the green flecks seemed more prominent than usual in this light. He kissed my forehead and whispered; “I won't let them hurt you…”

I smiled softly, leaning in; “I know. … Just gotta wait for a few Bats to swoop in, right?”

He sighed and nodded, glaring at the goon that approached us with a big canvas bag. The kid couldn't have been more than 18. He faltered a bit under Jason's intense gaze, mumbling; “... J- jewelry in the bag … Miss.”

I nodded, moving slowly to remove my earrings and hair pins, letting them slip between my fingers and into the bag.

“... What's in the purse?” He nodded to Stella's clutch tucked under my arm.

“Just my phone and makeup. … Do you want it? I don't think any of it is worth much, but …” I held the bag out, opening it so he could see the phone, lipstick, and compact inside. The kid gave me a confused look before shaking his head, moving on.

Jay pulled me close again, sheltering me against the wall while the goons went down the lines. A short man in a suit was cackling in the center of the room, shouting directions to the goons; when I caught a brief glance of him I realized it was the Penguin. At least it wasn't one of the truly deranged ones…

I scanned the room, looking for Babs and Steph, but couldn't find either. Bruce was against a wall, clearly trying to talk the Penguin down. Tim was standing in front of Bernard, glowering at the goons in front of them. I snorted softly, gesturing to them. “Gee, I wonder where he picked up that expression.”

Jason looked over and frowned down at me; “how are you so calm?”

“Oh, I'm sure panic will set in sooner or later.” I chuckled weakly; “hopefully after the Bats get here. … Who do you think it'll be anyway?”

Jason frowned more, stroking my back. “Be?”

“I'm thinking … a Batman/Nightwing team up tonight.” I nodded decisively.

He chuckled softly, “... Ah. Maybe…”

The goons got through most of the guests before the lights flickered and shut off. The guests shrieked, and I could hear people running for the doors again. It was so dark, I couldn't really see anything. Jason’s large hand grabbed mine, guiding me away from the wall.

He held my hand tightly, but in the darkness and chaos I got shoved out of someone's way and out of Jason's grip. I fell to the floor, and by the time I stumbled to my feet again I wasn't sure where Jason was. I wasn't even entirely sure where I was anymore; with so many people running all around, and no moon to offer any light, I could barely tell which way anything was.

“Jason?!” I called out, frowning. I heard something rustling next to me and reached toward it, hoping he had found me. Instead, a small hand grabbed mine and yanked me along. I was pulled down behind the bar and pushed toward an open floor panel.

On instinct I looked back at the person who'd grabbed me. I wasn't expecting to see a child's silhouette. There had been no children at the gala, Damian had blessedly planned to spend the night at the Kent's. So who …

“Get in already!” It was the fake deep voice of a baby bat doing their Batman impression. It wasn't deep enough to stop my brain from short-circuiting. I knew Robin was young, but knowing something and being confronted with it during a villain attack were very different.

The boy pushed me toward the opening again and I grabbed his hand, trying to pull him along with me. He pulled back, growling; “let go!”

“No, get down here!” I hissed, tugging more. He was so little, he did not need to be doing this. Where were his parents? Did they know he was out here? I growled softly, pulling harder on his hand.

“I have a job to do!”

“You are a child; your only job should be going to school. And if your family isn't going to protect you, I will! Now get down here!”

He tugged back firmly, growling softly. After a moment, I felt strong arms wrapped around my torso. Jay whispered; “darling, you have to let him go.”

I looked over my shoulder at him, tears filling my eyes; “no! … This shouldn't be his responsibility …”

Jason gently peeled my hand off the boy's. The second he was released Robin was gone, and Jay was pulling me into the cellar, shutting the door behind us.

“Jason!”

He cupped my cheeks, holding me close; “I know, baby. It's not fair. But he's trained for this, and we have to trust him.”

I burst into tears, letting Jason hold me tight to his chest. It wasn't fair… Robin was so little, and he was doing this because the police in our stupid city were too inept to do their jobs themselves. I still didn't know where Steph or Babs had gone, or if they were ok. Last I saw of Bruce he was arguing with Penguin. And the last thing I'd said to Tim was to teasingly threaten him! What if … no. No what if's. My heart couldn't handle that right now.

“... You were half right, by the way.”

“... What?” I sniffled softly.

His thumbs gently swept my tears away as he kissed my forehead. “You guessed that it was a Batman and Nightwing night. I saw Nightwing out there. So Robin's not alone, ok?”

I sighed softly, clinging to Jason's back. That didn't make me feel any better. “... He's still just a kid.”

“... I know. He's been doing this for years though. He knows what he's doing.”

“... If I ever find out who Robin is, I will have some choice words for his parents. …”

He chuckled softly, kissing my forehead. “If anyone can convince them to take better care of their kid, it'll be you.”

We stood in silence for a while. The sounds from above eventually stopped, and the door was opened, bathing us in the warm glow of the lights. Bruce called down; “you two ok?”

Jason gestured for me to head up the stairs; “all good, B!”

Bruce offered me a steadying hand as I returned to the ball room. Several of the Penguin's goons were being taken away in handcuffs, and the few remaining guests were giving their statements to the police. There was no sign of Robin, but Nightwing and Orphan were talking to a police officer on the other side of the room.

“... How did you know we were down there?”

“Before he left, Robin mentioned sending someone into the cellar.” Bruce looked us over, his eyes lingering for a moment on me. I frowned a bit, confused by the sad look on his face.

“... I … I'm glad you're both alright.” He blinked a bit, looking away. I looked down at myself, unsure what was making him so upset.

Jason stroked my back gently; “yeah, we're ok. … Think the cops will get her jewelry back to her soon?”

“Oh! Hang on, don't make that face yet!” I grinned, reaching into my dress. Bruce looked at me, confused, and immediately looked away when he saw where my hand was going.

“Ah … what face?”

“The sad face, like a kicked puppy.” I triumphantly slid Martha Wayne's necklace out of my bra, holding it up; “ta-da!”

Bruce glanced back at me, blinking repeatedly. “... How?”

Jason froze, staring at me; “... Honey?”

“Yeah?”

His voice sounded a bit strangled; “... Tell me you were not going to fight Penguin goons over a necklace?”

I laughed hard at that; “of course not! But if they didn't see me slip it off, they might not realize I had it in the first place, so it was worth trying to hide it.”

Tim ran over, frowning; “what's all the shouting over here?”

I showed him the necklace, grinning; “I gambled on Penguin goons not being the grope-y type, and I was right!”

“... So you let them take your new earrings and pins but not the necklace?”

“Well they had to take something off me, right? They had to think they'd won. Besides, if the earrings or hair pins don't get returned it'll be sad but not too sad. But I am not going to be the reason one of Martha Wayne's necklaces goes missing, and I don't trust the cops in this stupid city to actually return everything.”

Bruce shakily reached out and I placed the necklace in his hand. He practically whispered my name; “... Don't do that again. Your life is worth more than a necklace.”

“O- ok… like I said, I wasn't going to fight them if they found it anyway.”

He nodded once, frowning a bit. Jason held me close against his chest, kissing my cheek. “... Am I the only one impressed here? I didn't even see her take it off! I was so focused on the goons, I didn't realize she didn't put it in that one's bag!”

I chuckled, stroking his hair as I leaned against him. “Thank you, baby~”

Tim sighed; “yeah, it was clever, but … you couldn't save one of the hair pins?”

Jay tilted his head toward Tim, regarding him suspiciously. “... You're awfully focused on those hair pins, Timmy…”

Tim froze, looking at me with an expression that screamed ‘help!’.

“... Don't look at me like that, you did this to yourself!” I giggled.

Jason frowned, pulling me closer as he growled softly; “Why are you so focused on my girl's jewelry, Tim?”

“... It didn't mean anything! I swear!” Tim took off running, and Jay started to go after him until I whined softly, clinging to his arms.

“Baby, no, … please? … I just want to stay right here in your arms, don't let go … besides, he was just trying to do something nice for me, after the background check.” I looked up at him poutily.

He sighed softly, holding me close. “... You're so goddamn lucky, Tim!”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa

#fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc #jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #wayne family adventures #first person pov #multi chapter fic #no y/n #Can I Get Your Number?

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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Immortal (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 3)

"The path to paradise begins in hell."

— Dante Alighieri

Word count: 5.5 k

Summary: He knows now why he always returns to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased. What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead? (Last part of Ghost stories.)

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff, smut. Protective!Simon Ghost Riley. Graphic depictions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts and depression, mild violence. Emotional sex, love confessions, happy ending. Ghost POV.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

No one has ever scolded him.

He's the one who whips people into shape, who makes them recall who and where they are, that Task Force 141 is no place for fuckery. Now he's the one being reminded of his place.

Somehow it's ok to bring her flowers before dinner, but ever since he started to bring her coffee to get an excuse to see her at work, she began to shut down. He can fuck her doggy style at her place, but if he so much as lifts his mask to kiss the back of her neck at her office, she bats him away like an annoying fly.

And he's fucking confused.

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that women like to be courted. Now he's standing in the middle of her apartment, waiting for… he doesn't even know what. Pardon, perhaps.

"Why do you always call me lieutenant?"

"Well I can't call you Simon at work, can I?"

She's chaste and decent. Has been like that for a while now, retreating back to her role of a distant professional.

Something's troubling her, and he tries to get to the bottom of it. Tries his best to cheer her up, even if it's absurd that someone like him attempts to do that.

"Y'could use the alias."

"I'm not going to call you that."

She reads Virgil while making it clear that he's quite ridiculous. A ghost. It must remind her of a children's book rather than something stealthy and fatal; to her, it's a grown man's sad attempt to play a superhero.

"Did you come up with the name yourself?" Her voice has a whiff of irony as she finally spares him a glance from her hard-cover poetry.

"...No," he lies, too soon. Far too soon. She catches him on it, pants down.

"You're a silly, silly man." She shakes her head slowly and returns to her book. Last week, it was Dante who had better things to offer, far better things compared to him – such as a more poetic depiction of hell.

But even with the distant aura he can't quite pierce, she gives him a concept of what it would be like to have a home. A real home where you don't have to dread the evening and everything it brings out in people. Even when he was doing the SAS Fan Dance and lying on the cold ground to have a compulsory 2-hour shut-eye, he never missed home. The weather-beaten trail and a flapping tarp were still a cosier place than the one he'd left behind.

The closest thing to an actual home was always solitude. A few days without routine. A cold shower in the morning to wake him, but not frigid enough to kill the erection. A good, unhurried fap and some stale spit circling down the drain. No one giving him a pitiful eye for tossing old takeaway in the bin and opening the cupboard only to be met with some canned food and table salt.

Now, the first thing in the morning is the sensation of her. Fingertips sneaking their way under his arm and ghosting his stomach, stirring him so softly he doesn't quite know if he's gone to heaven. Home is a sleepy nest and slow kisses followed by the sounds of brewing coffee. Home has become a place of mundane tasks: helping her water the plants and tasting whether the vanilla pudding she made has enough sugar. Changing sheets together, listening to the fitful sea as it breaks upon the shore. Watching how she reads of the Trojan War.

When he just stands there, admiring how her manicured nails glide over the pages, she talks to him again without raising her lashes from the book.

"Did you need something?"

…You. All of you.

Now and forever.

"Ya wanna go out to eat tonight?"

Finally, he grabs her attention. The distance between them is sewn up so fast even a jerk like him can understand he finally made the right fucking move.

"What about your… The mask?"

He shrugs.

"I thought you liked my cooking," she gives him a smile. Sly… Foxy.

"I do. But let me feed you for a change."

He sees in that stare and the way she purses her lips that she's trying to prevent a dirty joke from coming out of her pretty little mouth. As much as he appreciates that little cunning look, as much as he loves when that mouth gets a little dirty, he's more than serious now.

"Come on. Let me take you out."

"Well. If you insist," she smiles, shuts the book, and flies to her closet to pull out a stunner of a dress.

…..…..…..

Her fingertips always make his cock stir. They were supposed to go to sleep – a rare thing, to not slip inside her after a nice lil evening. To his surprise she starts to trace the few hairs on his stomach, threading through them as they thicken below.

He can feel how she gets tense upon seeing that he's hard and heavy before she even reaches there. But she's not tense from anticipation.

"I overheard some of the guys talking about us. Or, well, me."

His cock gives a tug, and she still doesn't touch it.

"How I'm your luxury whore."

The curtain shifts as the wind plays with it: softly, while he's ripped out of the dark safety of the womb.

"Luxury…" She laughs, but it's bitter and thick. "Isn't it funny?"

He's hard now mainly because of the fury that rises. It ripples through his chest and pulls his stomach taut.

"Was it the rookie?"

He hears his voice from far away, from under the sea, but luckily, her hand brings him back. It's placed on him again, this time further up. She likes to trace the cavity between his pecs, pet the hair she finds there, too. Sometimes, she buries her face there and inhales his sweat, then uses that spot as her pillow. It's that very moment when he finds peace if he already hasn't by then.

"You don't have to defend my honour," the night speaks softly.

So, it was the rookie.

Nothing but a boy, younger than Soap and cockier than he was when he left Manchester with nothing but a duffel bag on his shoulder. Nothing but a boy, and she knows how boys are. She knows how boys talk. She wouldn't be in the Force if she took filthy quips seriously.

But this is fucking different. The fantasies of what he'll do to the fucker when he gets back get sicker and more beautiful by the second.

"Just… don't come there anymore unless you're injured. Ok?"

He can't hear her because the vile word overrides even the gorgeous visions of torture. It gathers up his throat as bile, and he barely has time to take a deep breath to force it down before it's too late.

"I'm gonna go take a shower."

"At this hour…?"

"Can't sleep anyway."

He reaches the bathroom just in time before the vomit flies. The power of it forces him on his knees, forces him to take hold of the door frame. Everything he fed to her shoots up, like it was only a dream that he could make her happy.

…Are you just here for sex?

Her shy question echoes from the tiles as another retch pulls the rest of his love out.

He's sweating worse than the time they had to operate him in the field, back when a bullet had worked its way through the naked spot between the straps of his plate carrier. The shower washes some of it away, but the stench stays, the foul word and the insolence, all the shallow things he has given her coat the insides of his mouth no matter how many times he tries to spit it away. The water only does so much, and she's still not asleep by the time he returns to her.

The luxury is waiting for him, silky and sweet.

Wet, even, if he wants.

"Baby… Honey?"

Baby.

He feels his guts in his throat again but swallows them down. She's beautiful, even when sad and sorry. Sorry, and for what? For him, instead of herself and what she's been called, the spite she has had to suffer simply for lying down in the filth with him.

"Are you okay...?"

"Yeah."

He goes to her, pulls her in his arms, and hopes he doesn't smell of puke.

"They're just words. Right?"

I'm more than just your whore, right?

Her hand doesn't shy away from the sweat that breaks through his back. She's not afraid of him, even when he's the monster she never asked for. He can respect that kind of fearlessness.

"You're awfully quiet," she tries.

Baby, please don't go berserk, is what he hears.

"Go to sleep, pet," he calls forth his softest voice, relieved to notice it sounds more like a lullaby than a command. He allows her to kiss him, wondering if she can taste the grave.

"Yes, sir," she breathes a soft smile in his mouth. Then she turns and coats herself with his arm. It must feel heavy around her, but she only gives a happy sigh. "I always sleep better with you. You feel so good… Safe."

He wonders how strange it is that love sometimes feels like pain. Her words come close to a knife slowly being pushed to his insides. They're still burning when she mutters the last essential thing, already half-asleep in his arms.

"They're just words, Simon…"

…..…..…..

He doesn't know much about poetry, but perhaps Dante was right.

The heart of hell is not a fiery lake of torment but an icy, cold, stagnant place. There's nothing there. Everything is frozen: screams, thoughts, even dreams.

He's walked through grey rubble and drenched asphalt, through alleyways of havoc and debris, he's trekked through desolate woodland and marsh. He's run through life like it's a day-to-day race to not get killed, but the worst of it isn't the bullets or the cold or the wind or the rain. It's the sleepless nights, the inertia. His soul in chains. On those nights, he wanted to get killed.

And yet, he's not the only one who has suffered the unfortunate event of being dragged through every plane of hell. He's not the first man to go through the funnel, nor is he the last. It only looks bad in a society where he's supposed to own a credit card and a house. It only tastes like shit when someone asks "How does it make you feel?"

People like him shouldn't go to therapy at all. His solution was to quit playing a modern man the minute he realized he's no longer fit for that role. He's simply a dead body, reanimated to serve a purpose. He's a sharp tool, a weapon. (A zombie.)

He serves the greater good, but everyone knows the greater good is propaganda too. There's no grand fight between light and darkness. Good and evil only conduct people's choices: even his old man must've thought he was making the world a better place by playing the rebel. He told him he served the Queen just to piss that sodded bastard off, but the truth is he never served anyone. Not even himself.

Now, there's an odd purpose to his task. Now, every cell in his body is full of animus.

He's an animated corpse, perhaps, but they forgot to bury the wrath.

"Where's the rookie?"

"Getting stapled."

"Where?"

Which room?

Which fucking room?

He doesn't stay to heed directions. He doesn't need them; his instinct tells him enough. He doesn't even bother to knock, simply barges in, only to see that the boy sits on the bed he used to sit on, in the exact same position as him. And he knows it's not just the blood loss that makes the fucker look so drowsy and smug.

The fury is pierced with an ice-tinged sword as he sees her gentle touch – she's tending to the wounds of an ungrateful kid with the same compassion she gives to all her patients, and the first thing on his mind is that she would make a good mother.

"What're you doing here?"

His voice is soaked in ash, but the boy only looks up from the bed with pure, trouble-seeking gall.

"What are you doing here…? Sir."

She's looking at him too. She's pleading with those eyes. Silently, desperately.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

Her request only now makes sense as he sees how the boy looks him up and down and sees there's not a scratch on him. There's no reason for him to be here other than to relieve the pain in his loins.

"Well… Have fun," the rookie jumps from the table, and the rage threatens to pull him underwater like a tide. He never needed anything but his voice to stop a man in his tracks. Not size, not rank, not even his reputation, just voice.

"My office. Five minutes."

The boy dares to give him another foul look.

"Is that all you need? Just five minutes?"

He even detects admiration in that stare – like he's some stallion, a prized old stud who receives fine mares to rut. Like the celestial woman standing behind this… boy is just some slag thrown to him like they threw to gladiators of old. His luxury whore.

The rookie finally catches the impending wrath that must swell and roil like sea inside the sockets of the skull.

Yes, boy.

Death is coming.

"Sir," the boy swallows with an arduous blob, then walks out of the goddess's domain, finally with some humility upon those shoulders.

The torture has already begun, and it shoots him full of sweet adrenaline. He tries to mask the rising war from her, but she sees enough just before he leaves her as well. Her words follow him but cannot penetrate the cloak of fury that shrouds him as he goes to prepare for carnage.

"Simon. I just stitched him together..."

…..…..…..

He doesn't solve the problem with a gun or a cock this time.

He uses his fists and a knife.

It should disgust him; how much he enjoys it. It's one of those rare occasions when he almost loses himself in the riptide of blood. The things he imagines are far worse than what he finally allows himself to do. When the boy has a split lip and half his face swollen so bad he can't even see from the bruise, when the wetness dampens the crotch area and threatens to stain the carpet, he lets him go.

"Get out."

He's a different man when he rises from beside that broken boy; from next to the knife he plunged to the floor an inch away from his face to make his intentions clear. The boy is stripped of all arrogance and probably regrets the day he got the splendid idea to insult a woman.

He doesn't have to get his hands deep into paperwork to have the rookie transferred; the boy does it for him. He leaves the base quietly as a shadow and with a face that looks like it has been forced through a waffle maker.

After that, everyone salutes him feet away.

His orders are obeyed without question, without a second's delay on missions. He has never pursued to be loved, but neither has he worked on making people fear him. Now he's not only a source of mystery and intrigue but also fear and wonder.

Soap isn't scared quite as shitless as the rest of them, but neither is he as friendly as he used to be. Price says nothing but he gets a few looks that tell him he has gone too far.

"You shouldn't have," she whispers when they're alone, stopping him in the quiet hallway. She's the only one who doesn't have fear and avoidance in her stare. If anything, the adoration in her eyes has deepened.

He has avoided her strictly, this time obeying her request not to go to her unless he has business there. He doesn't defend himself; he doesn't have the luxury to decide what should or shouldn't be done. He's not a saint nor a judge. He is territorial, though.

"You must be the craziest man I've ever met."

She talks to his shadow as he's standing only a few feet away, unable to touch her.

"Good."

"...and the most incredible."

His sharp intake of air hisses between them as the artificial light casts shadows in electric blue. She tries to thank him for bashing a face in, all her noble Hippocratic Oaths forgotten.

She takes a step – just one, to make it perfectly clear she wants to touch him too.

"You're a brute, Simon."

The woman's eyes are a deep sea of gratitude. He wonders if she's equally as wet between those legs. Her voice says it all: she likes brutes.

The worship in her stare makes him understand why wars have been waged – this is the reason why crusaders sloshed through rivers of crimson blood, why whole civilizations were destroyed. This is why swords are forged and guns are fired. He draws another breath to swear his allegiance, an oath bound in blood.

"No one's gonna call you a–"

She crosses the final breadth of air between them and lifts his mask.

…..…..…..

The waves crash on the shore like clockwork. To him, it's the sound of limbo.

The sea used to pull him in like a seductive pit, especially at night, during the sleepless shifts when he walked to the beach with nothing but the ghosts of all the people he had lost to keep him company. Watching all the futures and should have been's slowly drowning in the sea.

Now he’s here with a living being, and the cold, dead sea has turned into blooming fireworks of crimson and coral. The amnesia has turned into bliss; all the treasures lost in the depths suddenly wash up on the shore like a sunken hoard.

She takes her shoes off the minute they reach the shore, then descends the sands with laughter. She could be from a movie or a magazine, gliding through bleached gold with sunbeams in her hair, sandals dangling from the crook of her fingers, heathers kissing her feet as she dives down the path. Her smile eclipses even the setting sun, and for the first time ever, he thinks it might've been a stupid idea to enlist.

If there’s an opposite to ice and inertia, it's this.

It's her.

"You lied to me," she turns around but doesn't stop walking. "You have been to the beach."

She tilts her head as if reprimanding him, but he knows she's just laughing at his expense. She laughs at his name… She laughs at his broodings, she laughs at his shadows and his hubris.

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No."

There's no soul out here but theirs; even the seagulls have withdrawn to rest. She stops to admire the sun, features turning soft as she takes in her counterpart. Apparently, she likes his humble tribute, the scarcity he has to offer. Some hollow bones, his opinion of a beach. Emptiness… A day coming to an end.

"I have no words for this."

"It's just a beach," he offers, and swallows when she turns. When the fuck has he ever felt embarrassed? His mask is gone, so she can see him swallow again as she approaches. It's the strangest thing how she can still cause his heart to hammer in his chest. He's used to stepping into a hail of bullets, driving a truck through a wall, waiting for that last unaware step to lunge forth and slit a man's throat. The organ never wailed then.

Her eyes take in his every flaw and scar, the rotten work on his skin before she wraps her hands around his neck.

"No. No it's not. This is paradise."

She has to rise on her toes to kiss him, and he's glad he got rid of the mask. There's nothing between him and the taste of summer anymore – she reminds him of some bright tropical drink, something pure and sweet and innocent, pure fucking fun, something he has come to understand and define only through movies and tv.

And he knows now why he always comes back to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased.

She has introduced him back to the world: the sun, the birdsong, the simple, good life. How it feels like to have curtains, or bake just because it's Thursday, or walk barefoot on the beach in order to feel the burning sand on your skin.

What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead?

"Simon," she shivers into his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't want people to think that… That we're just…"

"Pet. I know."

"They said you didn't trouble yourself with relationships."

Years of instinct and training make his spine tingle. He's holding another future in his arms and hopes it's not possible for a sea to swallow a sun.

"They?"

"Well, John. Captain."

Her lashes hide what's going through her mind, but he can tell she's feeling shy from the way she shifts in his embrace.

"I asked about you. In spring. If there's someone… waiting for you."

He wrestles down a bitter laugh. The only lover ever waiting for him was nothingness in that chair; the only wife he came home to was shades, shadows, and dust.

But he's starting to understand what she's trying to say. How, without even thinking about it, he just made the strongest possible declaration of not being here just for sex. He couldn't have sent a louder message with that boy.

Because not only Jonathan Price know that she's his. Soap knows too. Gaz knows too. Everyone working in Task Force 141 knows, even the fucking scrubbers and accountants know what's going on. Everyone knows that Ghost is real, and alive, and troubles himself with a relationship.

"I dreamed of you, you know." Her lashes flutter open, and he's met with the perfect example of total surrender. She's more than happy with the outcome, and why the hell shouldn't she be? Actions speak louder than words. He of all people should know that.

"Love–"

"Do you remember the day I found out you were a smoker?"

"...Sure."

She laughs, taking him back to the odd meeting in the yard when she was prying her suffocating latex gloves off, and he was trying to find some solace in a cigarette because he couldn't have her.

"I was so angry at you. Playing with death at every turn..."

"Yeah. Not the perfect man."

"But you were. You are."

"Pet. If someone's perfect, it's you."

"No… I'm a hypocrite. I wanted you to just–just take me against the wall. After your stupid smoke."

He always wondered if she was suffocating too. In her gloves, in her beauty, in her sterile, medical, professional chasteness.

But he had no fucking clue that she–

"Or during, I don't care…"

Even the thought of her wanting him to tear apart her facades shatters the last sane thought in his head. He has tried to be civil, tried to suffocate the longing, but apparently, he doesn't have to. The image of burying himself inside her cunt while taking a drag from the thing she despises even more than his name or his mask or his guns is too fucking much. The fact that she views a dog like him as a perfect man makes his cock answer her call like a good, stout soldier.

"Is that so?"

She stops breathing for a moment as he takes a drag from her now. She's raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach, the way his mind goes blank from sliding his mouth over the column of her throat. She tastes of sea there, and it's not pulling him in; it's pulling him under. The open-mouthed kisses make her jolt, he even draws out a moan or two; they swell between his legs.

"You like that…?"

She answers to him with a soft whine. A soft nib of her ear, and her hips reply with a roll. The woman tries to latch onto him by gripping his shirt, threatening to do permanent damage to the fabric.

"No walls here, pet. Gotta take you on the sand," he gruffs in her ear, cock hard and ready from her tight little breaths. He could bet half his money that she's wetter than November down there. He could drag his cockhead across her cunt and the sound would be divine.

"Simon–"

"I'll light a cig first."

"Stop teasing," she laughs, voice thick with hunger.

"...Roger that."

His hand is on his belt before he knows it. It's pathetic how much patience he has if he needs to crouch in a downpour and wait for a kill, but at the sight and smell and taste of her, he can't stop himself from wrenching his belt and pants open like a starved dog. It's a rush born of fear - that any time could be the last time.

She seems to shiver from his stare only when she lays herself upon the warm sand, naked as can be. She's like a vision on that beach: leaning on her elbows, thighs slowly parting, revealing the glistening sex between her legs. And she's fucking dripping, like an overripe peach. He could've safely bet all his money on her.

"How do you want me?"

Fucking fuck…

He's walking in a dream: the most beautiful woman in the world is lying naked before his feet, bathing in gold, asking how he would prefer to take her. He doesn't even bother to get out of his clothes; he merely tugs his pants down and crawls between her legs, relishing the tight gasp he gets from being so crude.

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of him there, so close to her core, cock hanging heavy just an inch away from that tight cunt. She tries so hard to look composed while lying under his shadow, to not make it obvious that she wants that ugly thing inside. And it does feel like sin not to spread those legs and plough right in, especially when his fingers meet her silk and find that she's already throbbing.

"Want you just like this, pet," he rasps while dragging the pad of his thumb around her clit. Her back arches on the sand, forcing his fingers deeper into the dripping fruit.

It's different, her wetness; not thick and halfway there, but flowing, leaking, soaking good. The pussy is so glazed that he slips at the first attempt to slide a finger in. Her walls grip him the second he's seated deep, making it known how much she appreciates it that he's not here just for sex.

"Someone's greedy," he's breathing rough, and she whines – he only gets to two fingers before she demands him to fuck her already.

"Want your–I need your cock…"

She's begging, poor thing, almost crying on the sand, and he has no fucking choice but to remove his fingers and grab his cock instead.

"Have to go slow, love."

"Riley–for god's sake, now."

"F' fuck's sake…" He stumbles forward, all but gracefully, forces the tip on her soaked cunt as delicately as he can before pushing right in. She cries from the spread, fingers curling in the sand: a futile attempt to take him in without fainting.

"Tried to warn ya–"

"Don't you dare stop," she gasps, eyes full of love. As always, her wish is his command, and the tightness makes it an endless journey to bliss. The basest parts of him think about dying – having a heart attack on the same beach he almost drowned in, about ceasing to exist just for the sake of knowing that nothing is as good as this.

He's deep as can fucking be, and it's still not enough – it's never enough. He collects her in his arms with a frustrated grunt, cock giving a tight pull only when she's finally safe and snug in his embrace. It's a tight cuddle that leaves them both breathless.

"Hold me tighter..."

It's a soft order, but he can't get any closer: chest plastered on her skin and balls pressed against her ass, the sand grinding against her back as he makes love to her. She’s not made of twigs, but he’s far bigger than her, already threatening to crush her with his weight.

"Tighter…" she begs on his lips, tries to pull him closer with her whole being.

"Pet, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she sings, completely shieldless. Something warns him of danger, a reset far worse than drowning or being buried alive or shooting himself in a lonely apartment. He tries to calm her down with a kiss: he knows she loves kisses - but there are tears in her eyes, and his heart is hammering, hammering…

"Simon, do you love me…?"

She asks that question right on his lips, and the first thing in his dog mind is that it's a stupid thing to ask when he's balls deep inside her and still trying to get closer.

"Yeah," he almost chokes on it, knowing it could be their wedding day and he would still choke on it because it doesn't taste like salt or metal or grave.

"I love you," she whispers. "Do you understand?"

No. No…

I fuckin' don't–

"And I'll always be here for you."

To his shock, there’s no sea water in his lungs, no dirt in his mouth. He’s not choking on anything, he's not in fact dying at all: he’s floating, somewhere between the sun and the sand and the sea. There's no more rush, no jaws of death snapping at his heels. He doesn't even long for heaven anymore. Not when there's a paradise on earth.

"Love, I need you to–need you to focus," he tries to stutter nonsense while she's pledging herself to him. Of course she only laughs at him: it hits him with the sweetest warmth.

"You're so silly…"

"Yeah? I know."

He's laughing too. It's just a few notes that get taken away by the sound of waves. It's just a breath from deep within, and still… Her gaze drops to his mouth, a flutter blinks back more tears.

"I love it when you laugh..." Her eyes shine brighter than the sun, riding the spine of the sea as one perfect tear rolls down her cheek. "Love it…"

The sun sets in tangerine, his new favourite colour. There's a whole bloom out there in the sky when she comes, fast and bright in his embrace. He comes right after, just from trying to stay inside her warmth, deep inside her, around her, and she says it, again and again and again… Until he breathes.

….….….

"Remember when I said I could've managed? Without you," she asks when they lie on the sand, skin on skin, watching the sun set beneath the onyx sea. The waves rise and break, but around them, the air is still. He's still inside her as she pulls his hand over her heart, entwining their fingers together: it's the softest little arrest, but her squeeze doesn't lack strength.

"I lied too."

"I know."

She chuckles softly. "Is there something you don't know?"

"...Yeah. Why you're here out of all places."

She turns her head from the sunset into the falling darkness of him, and he wonders if that's why she's here... To be with his night. She said that people always get the dark wrong: that it's not supposed to be scary at all. That the purpose of darkness is safety, security, that there are tales where the day chases the night, and the night chases the day. She said it's because they're in love with each other.

"You really don't know…?"

"You were smiling before we met and now you're crying all the time."

She looks up at him with trust and devotion, his daylight, his sun. There's none in the sky anymore, but it doesn't matter. It lives in her eyes.

"People cry from happiness too, Simon."

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #cod fanfic

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just-some-random-blogger · 11 months ago

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im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal crackfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fic #pedro fic #pedro fanfic #pedro x reader #pedro fluff

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welcomingdisaster · 1 year ago

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second mingling soft mouse

🌸 drunkinalqualonde Follow

second mingling soft mouse reblog for peace and comfort always

🌧️ hailxrainxstars Follow

i can't scroll past the mingling mouse

🪻dancer_spirit Follow

guys it's literally opening hour

🦦 whatabotterit Follow

opening hour will end but mingling mouse is forever

#sighs #i suppose i must reblog #second mingling soft mouse

( 12990 notes )

🌻sweetflowersofspring Follow

spilled all the seed pods at yavanna's temple and accidentally sa-si'ed in front of my crush (who only ever uses Þ 😭) and now i come home and learn the hounds have come loose and run off to chase the wild hunt... can i just get whatever queen miriel died from it's too late for me now folks

🔥lordoflight Follow

Explain to me how and why you think it's okay to joke about that.

#idiots online #disrespect #upsetting

( 12 notes )

🌳 twotreesdaily Follow

Yet another image which fails to capture the majesty and beauty of Laurelin, yet in its imperfection reveals the grandness and completeness of that design, which none shall surpass.

#perfection #beauty #tree #merging of light and life #the valar #gold #symbol of eternal youth and the divine feminine #wow

( 299 notes )

🐾 awwooooo Follow

join the wild hunt we've got deer jerky

🐾 awwooooo Follow

also orgies

🐾 awwooooo Follow

but seriously so much deer jerky there's too much someone please take some

( 188 notes )

🪺 maidenwithoutacause Follow

normalize taking naps and being so so sleepy

🗡️fireson5 Follow

That literally kills people.

🪺 maidenwithoutacause Follow

that was ONE time

#sorry op but it's literally 100% of our mortality rate he's got a point

( 355 notes )

🦢 silversmith Follow

"nolofinwë's right" this "curufinwë's right" that ... do we ever talk about how arafinwë just fucked off to to drink cocktails on the beach in alqualondë and married the hottest elf-maiden in all of aman? icon for this

( 82 notes )

Based on your likes!

🐞 bugdaughter Follow

any girls want to go to the macalaurë feanorian orchestral and exchange kisses under the starlight....

🐞 bugdaughter Follow

perhaps tenderly grasp each other's hands

🐞 bugdaughter Follow

... unwed

#not safe for tumblr #horny posting

( 19 notes )

🕊️ justsomevanya Follow

okay wondering if i'm weird

#polls #haha is it just me

( 58 notes )

🎶freepeoplefreesong Follow

gotta be real it's sad to see cancel culture coming for melkor he's done his time let him live

🌄 smithworkirl Follow

bestie he's a war criminal

🎶freepeoplefreesong Follow

he's coming to my house party tomorrow ✌️ peace and love

#seriously tho unfollow me if you think people can't change #the light is healing and cleanses all #don't you believe in redemption

( 31 notes )

⛰️ 12elves3kings

prince turukáno house of nolofinwë. you agree. reblog.

( 67 notes )

#someone take my laptop i'm addicted to making these #silly shit tag #silmarillion #lena speaks

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crystalflygeo · 2 years ago

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Sweet torture ft. Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: bondage/shibari, muzzle, oral sex (m!receiver), dom/sub dynamics, reader doms in this one ayyy, sub!zhongli, TEASING lots of it, masturbation, sex toy, improper use of geo (lmao).

notes: What did I just write?? We just don't know. I am sorry I saw one (1) fanart of Zhongli wearing a muzzle and went b a l l i s c t i c. Also.... dom!reader hella. This is so filthy and I'm so sleepy.....

It was torture. You were torturing him.

Zhongli groans, muscles tense as he feels your fingers gently stroking his member. The sudden touch makes him jerk, but the intricate ropework laced around his arms holds him nicely to prevent any more movements and instead keeping them tied at his back.

He couldn't touch you, kiss you, hold you...

A sweet yet deliciously devilish laughter comes out of your lips.

And then you lean down and start giving small kitten licks to his dripping cockhead before your hot, wet mouth starts slowly enveloping him, bobbing your head with lewd wet noises and purposefully drooling all over him. Messy. Obscene. Painfully driving him mad with lust.

“Darling, please.” He moans hoarsely.

You pull back with a smirk “Hmm? Are you about to break your own contract? My dearest Zhongli?”

He huffs and growls, shaking his head.

As easily as he could break out of these ‘restrains’ he had made a deal with you, so all he could do was toss his head back and endure.

And oh… you could definitely see the appeal of being the one in control.

The lord of Geo. The mighty Prime of the Adepti. Bound and muzzled like a feral beast. Squirming under your touch.

You kiss down along the side of his impressive cock, lightly tracing a vein with your tongue and making it twitch. “Hmmm… seems like you’re all ready for me.” Zhongli gasps as your fingers follow the fine trail of hair from his bellybutton down, teasingly. “It’s my turn.”

For a moment he thinks the torture is over and you’re satisfied with your small game. You’ll release his arms, or at least take off the horrible muzzle (“no biting tonight, dearest.”) and allow him to eat you out to his heart’s content.

How wrong he was.

Zhongli’s eyes widen then he scowls and jerks into his restrains again, shuffling on the bed when he sees you pull out one of your toys. He glares at you. You wouldn’t.

You smirk in response. Watch me.

“Relax…” You smile, sickly sweet. Leaning back onto a pillow and spreading your legs. “Just enjoy the show, darling.”

You start by teasing your entrance, gently, slowly. Caressing and pinching at your clit and slowly easing the oiled tip of the object into you. A rather special geo construct of Zhongli’s own creation. Sweet irony.

“Hmmmm…Ah…”

He snarls, glaring at the offending object as you slowly feed the fake cock into your pussy, inch by inch stuffing you as you let out a quiet moan. He knows you wouldn’t be satisfied with such a… crude and lacking replacement, no. He knows you ached for him, his warmth and thickness that could fill you so much more, satisfy you so much better.

You bite your lip and whine as it bottoms out.

“This one is… hah… rather accurate huh? … hng!” You mewl, squeezing your eyes shut as you start pulling it out only to push back in. “A-ah- fu-!”

He tries to keep calm. By Celestia, he tries. But the sight of you, naked and sweaty, presenting yourself so freely and displaying your pleasure, makes it excruciatingly difficult. You rock your hips and moan his name, high-pitched. Getting more and more used to the intrusion and thus increasing the speed.

“Z-Zhongli, baobei” You keen. “Wouldn’t you be a dear and apply a bit of resonance?”

A growl. “I would rather have you myself, my love.”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Of course. But don’t you want to see me come undone first? We do have a contract and for now you have to do as I sa-a-y Ah! Oh fuck-!”

You bite your lip, whining, eyes rolling back and hips moving on their own when the geo construct indeed starts buzzing low on your hand and inside your pussy. The sensation drives you up to the edge of that high, delicious simmering heat all over your body and pooling at your navel. Feel so good, so good-

“Zhongli, Zhongli, Zhongli-”

You come with a cry of his name as your body arches away from the mattress, high-strung with pleasure, free hand clawing at the sheets. For a few seconds you lie there basking in the afterglow, chest falling and rising rapidly until you sit up and slowly pull the toy out, shuddering at the wet squelch.

Your gaze sets on the man in front of you, looking absolutely pent-up with sexual frustration. Cock pressed up hard against his abs and smearing tacky precum everywhere.

You scoot up to him with a playful smile, eyes half-lidded as you sit upon his lap. You brush your hand down before bringing it back to run a slick-covered finger over the muzzle, the metal turning shiny and no doubt getting impregnated with the scent of your arousal. You see him open his mouth and pant slightly, sharp fangs on display, nostrils flared, eyes half-lidded and pupils brown wide as he chases the path your finger makes.

Oh, he is absolutely drunk on you.

You place your hands at his shoulders for leverage and this time (finally!) slowly envelop his cock with your warm pussy.

“Now’s your turn…”

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fubu18writes · 1 year ago

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❧the forbidden tale of a prince and a mermaid are only told in the dark, moonlit waters

♢regular tags: prince!kurokawa izana, mermaid princess!reader, fem!reader, royalty au ♢mature tags: exhibitionism (y'all fuck in a beach), unprotected sex (be responsible!), reader is called "princess", izana is called "master", nipple play, fingering, pussy worship, orgasm denial handjob, cowgirl position (you kinda ride him so...) ♢all characters are 18+ and above unless stated otherwise

a/n: this mostly inspired from an asmr so this isn't really mythology accurate... and yes, this is my first time writing for izana...

A misty night hangs low over the harbor, clouding even the stars from the sky. The ships creak and moan, bobbing slowly in the calm water. It is nearly the midnight hour, and no one could be seen outside.

Except for one, lone prince. Holding up a lantern.

This was Kurokawa Izana's only time to be free of any sort of responsibility. Izana is the youngest prince, and ever since his parents and older brother died, he became heir to the thrown at fourteen.

He was eighteen now. A suitable age to find a bride. But he had no interest in finding anyone as of now. He had to enjoy a little bit of his freedom somehow.

He walks down to the end of the dock, setting his lamp down on one of the posts, easing himself down to sit over the edge. He takes a deep breath. "It's darker than usual," He says to himself. "I'm surprised no one wanted to stay for the night shift... I would enjoy the privacy if I was part of the sailors..."

There was a moment of silence before Izana starts to hear something over in the distance. Someone was humming a tune, and it echoed throughout the harbor. It was an alluring voice, but Izana kept up his guard, sheathing his rapier as he stood up.

There was a few seconds before a woman's head pops out of the water. "What on..." His eyebrows furrow before he puts his rapier on the ground, holding the lantern just to see her more clearly. "Are you alright?" Izana asks as he kneels down on the dock. "You shouldn't be swimming in the midnight hour, something might happen." He reprimanded as he extends his out to you. "Take my hand, come on."

The woman just swims closer, and that's when Izana could make out the faint, iridescent-colored scales in the water. And to top it all off, there was a fin.

A mermaid's fin.

Izana's hand recoils suddenly, his face showing complete shock. This couldn't be real, right? There was no way that a mermaid was there in front of him, right? But there was living proof: You.

"Hmm?" You suddenly say, making Izana widen his eyes more. "I thought you wanted to help me up." You say, tilting your head a little to the side. Izana blinked. Your voice... was alluring, in a way. And you were just talking. He visibly flinches when he sees that you were the one extending your hand to him.

You raise an eyebrow. Maybe you weren't addressing him correctly? You had been peeking up to the surface every now and then, and oftentimes you would hear the other women (and occasionally men) call their partners "master" or anything similar to that. "Master?" You say afterwards and that's when something in Izana snaps a little.

"...you won't lure me to my death or something?" Izana then asks suspsciously.

"You believe in those tales?" You ask and let out a chuckle. "I believe you're referring to a different type of mermaid."

Izana kneels back down, a bit amused. He extends his hand to hold yours, and his skin roams around your own. Your skin was soft, which was surprising. You prop your tail out of the water again, allowing his other hand to look and feel at your iridescent scales. "...what is your name?" He asks after a while, his purple eyes meeting your own.

"y/n". You answer.

"y/n," Izana repeats. As if he was practicing how the name rolls off his tongue. "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful creature... I would say woman but I can't really..."

"Oh, I don't have to be a creature of the water." You say with a smile. Though, Izana couldn't see that your smile was that of... seduction.

Izana raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Why don't you pull me up to find out?" You say with a soft laugh. Izana ponders for a moment, before managing a nod as he helps you up onto the dock.

As you sit there, Izana could see a small light emitting from your tail, and it begins to split. Scales smoothing out into soft skin. In a moment, you sit across from Izana, water glistening from your soft, human legs.

"Oh my god." Izana looks at you, shock returning to his face. He snaps back to reality when he decides to take off his jacket. "Hold on, you should put this on." He says, about to place it on your shoulders but you stop him. "I won't need it, master." You say with a seductive undertone. There was that snapping feeling again.

"What do you mean by this?" He asks again. But your response was to lean forward to catch his lips under your silky soft ones, kissing him gently. This action catches him by surprise, but slowly, he sinks into the kiss. You start to untie his dress shirt and that's when Izana pulls away, panting heavily. "This is... do you want this?" He asks, his eyes looking at you intently. You could only stare back, your hands still on his shirt as you whisper, "I do, master." And you didn't hide the seduction in your voice. "I may not know what you are, but I can sense a heat in you." You say to him. "So... allow me to return the same, master."

That was already an approval, so Izana's arms wrap around your waist as he straddles you, kissing you again. You kiss back eagerly as his hands roam around your naked skin, leaving no crevice untouched. You lay your passion deep in the kiss, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. In a way, the both of you were hoping this would happen.

"I can't keep my hands off you," Izana says through the kiss, before pulling away. "Tell me with your voice, princess." His tone was dominating, and you could feel the heat pool in once again. And who were you to deny this? "Touch me, master..." You moan out, and you moan again when one of Izana's hands go in between your legs to caress your thighs and wet clit. His tongue plays around with your nipple and you could only squirm and moan in pleasure.

"Is this what you need as well, princess?" He asks after playing with your nipple and looks up at you with a smirk. He doesn't wait for your answer though as he continues to play with your clit and devour your other nipple.

Izana decides to test the waters, slipping a finger in your pussy and you let out a loud moan. It was a sound that Izana hadn't heard, especially from a woman such as beautiful as you were. He didn't stop, still his tongue sucking on your nipple and his fingers caressing your wetness.

Once he left his marks on your breasts, still giving you a smirk as he decides to thrust his finger in and out of your pussy. "This is exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks. "My touch on your body, giving your pussy the attention it deserves..." He chuckles as he sees you squirm. "But I won't make it easy for you, princess. You're going to have to earn it."

Just as your legs begin to shake, Izana stops. The tent in his pants becomes more evident as he sees your wet cunt clenching over nothing. "Fuck me like you mean it, princess." He commanded, and who were you to decline an offer?

You untie his pants, pulling them down to see his hard cock, standing erect. Your eyes widen in awe. "Master, your cock..." You whisper, and Izana only chuckles. "Why so surprised? You haven't seen a cock before?" He asks.

"Not like this..." You admitted. Sure, you had seen some... sights, of the humans doing their activities nearby in the caves or on the rocks. And you have seen some of the men's hardened erections. But Izana's? Oh, it was nothing like the others that you've seen.

Izana didn't know if he should be flattered or not, but he'll go for the former rather than the latter. You didn't wait for any response from Izana as you begin to touch his cock. Izana visibly flinches, throwing his head back as he lets out a moan. His control fades away the moment your hands move up and down on his cock. "Oh my... master, it's better than I ever imagined..." You don't hide the fact that you're aching for this, moving your hands faster.

"Oh, fuck-" Izana looks at you now. "That feels good, keep going-" His control visibly fades. Your hands feel like silk on his cock. Your touch feels like a gift from the sea, and he thinks that he can cum just from your hands alone. "Fuck me, please-" He lets out another moan when you squeeze his cock. "I can't take it, please-"

You consider denying him. But that isn't what you came here for.

You move, hovering over him as you slowly slide your pussy onto his cock. Izana inhales a sharp breath, his hands now going to hold your waist. You raise your hips slowly before sinking down back onto his cock, holding onto his shoulders to give yourself leverage. You moan along with him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

"This is nothing like the fantasies I've had," You moan out as you move faster, your breasts bouncing and Izana moves his hand to squeeze your breast. "Let me fuck you, let me feel your heat inside me,"

Izana couldn't take this anymore. He could feel the same heat emitting from her. The way your breasts bounce like that as he squeezes one of them, pinching and twisting your nipples with ease. "Are you gonna cum, princess?" He manages to ask as you only nod eagerly. "Cum inside, master," You beg, your eyes pleading for him to do so. "Please, I want to feel master's seed inside..."

"Then take it all," Izana's voice becomes raspy as he finally digs his nails into your hips. You feel your climax reaching and it does, along with Izana's own. But somehow, you don't stop. You only grind on him and he squeezes both of your breasts now. "If this is a dream, then I won't wake up..."

"Who said that it can only be a dream?" You ask him with a smile. "I can be your real princess, master. Just make it happen."

"Then I'll make it happen, just keep fucking me like you mean it." Izana then cups your cheeks as his lips capture yours, the both of your tongues colliding with one another.

That night, the prince had already binded his body and soul with a mermaid, starting the forbidden romance that can only be told under the misty night...

#norrisworks #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev x reader smut #izana #kurokawa izana #izana x reader #izana x reader smut

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roseadleyn · 4 months ago

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Lidia‘s SA was handled even worse. Sjm would have lidia fuck Ruhn in mind at the same time she’s getting SA‘ed by her ex. Lidia never received proper time to heal from that sh*t. The moment Ruhnlidia made up in the third book they had mf sex.

Nesta had sex with Cassian right after getting SA‘ed by that weirdo kelpie from the lake, and that other time when Lanthys made her see that vision in which he SA‘ed her too. The SA from Tomas was also never properly acknowledged.

At least Gwyn had 2 years to recover. Most SA survivors in her books don’t receive much time to at least process it all before fucking. You’re telling me Rhys is all cool with going down on Feyre after 50 years of SA? Feyre can easily forget the sh*t Rhys did to her utm? Great.

If Gwynriel is canon, Sjm will most definitely fuck up her trauma like she always does.

Sjm: „Oh you were touched against your will?“

Sjm: „Here have a cock. That will heal you quickly!“

Worst of all is that the sex is always so… rough? Specifically for Nesta. At least worship her and make her feel safe instead of dicking her down like she‘s a good one night stand. Poor girl.

ya i'm just realizing that gwyn is at least not as bad as nesta or feyre or lucien or rhys or lidia. i haven't read any other sjm books but i know abt lidia and that's insane 😭 it's like she doesn't know how to write intimacy. it's like she thinks emotional connections only exist in sex.

it was insane how feyre only rescued lucien from being raped because she remembered her darling rhys and not because lucien is her first friend and also it's just the MORAL THING TO DO

( also why is it that everytime a couple fights in sjm's novels, they always have sex when they make up? i get that angry makeup sex is soo hot etc but like can no one have a conversation? can she not show how sometimes issues are talked out not fucked out? )

do NOT i hate how she wrote nesta i hate everything abt it. nesta was assaulted by tomas and when he found out he restrained her against the wall??? in the same manner tomas would have?? also i'm never going to forget how cassian tugged at the skirts of her dress and asked her 'what're you hiding under all this anyways?' without her consent, during a time in which they didn't like each other, and he was there on diplomatic purposes.

and i just checked but literally RIGHT after she was sa-ed by the kelpie, cassian not only had sex with her but he left her without any aftercare. bed still warm. rough sex as if she's a one night stand. she's sexually assaulted and then left wondering if cassian was 'punishing' her by leaving immediately. ugh i despise him i hate him.

and rhys? he literally has one (1) traumatic flashback to his trauma and whoop that's it yall we're done. and feyre wearing the same clothes she was wearing when she got assaulted for rhys, even though rhys was the one who assaulted her.

it pushes an extremely unhealthy narrative. very young girls (literally 15-16 year olds) read these books and they'll think these toxic, unrealistic, unhealthy dynamics are normal. it's so concerning and i hate the entire genre of dark romance for it but that's a story for some other angry rant

i hate the rough jackhammering sex. i fear she's gonna do the same shit with elain and lucien (😭). nesta deserves to be worshipped and praised and then given plenty of aftercare free my girlll

( for acotar stans who for some reason go into anti tags: do not interact u will be BLOCKED !!! okay bye 💋 )

#꒰ ᜊ ꒱ — wood sorrel.#ty for the ask <3 #anti acotar #anti sjm #acotar critical #sjm critical #filtering tags ->#anti rhysand #anti inner circle #anti cassian

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nart-is-a-monster · 5 months ago

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The following post contains people hating on a character on a skirt and a brief mention of sa and unaliving, please if any of those is something that triggers you skip the post and take care of yourself.

lets begin with the boundaries that i have

I do not feel comfortable with minors going to this or my nsfw acc simply because, is not a safe place for you to go (not even social media too but that's a different talk)

I do not like people going into any of my acc's to send my draws or content to minors bc... bitch do i even have to explain how fucked up that part is?

And last but not least; if you're going to talk shit about me at least talk shit with bases and evidence, how do you not have the first and most important rule about gossip? like??????

booooo tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes

I will not name anyone that was involved because first of all,they are minors and even tho they are old enough to know that what they're doing is wrong, naming them could do more harm than good and I think they are able to change if they just accept that their actions have consequences.... I'll be also using neutral pronouns for the ppl involved.

if you know the ppl that are in the screenshots please don't share their social media or acc's to avoid them getting harassed, also please don't harass the people mentioned here.

with that being said!

this situation has been happening for i think the last month when someone informed me about someone talking shit about my art on a private discord server.

I think that the concept of blocking blogs that have stuff that you're triggered or you don't vibe with is very simple to understand.

the persons that have been talking about how i don't draw normal stuff and how dare i to draw varian in a dress and being cute ohh no god forbid....

I don't know if you can't realize maybe I'm drawing Varian (A CHARACTER THAT DOESNT EVEN EXISTS) as trans masc and trans fem, and that anyone can have their hc and any hc are valid!

IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I DO OR DRAW JUST DON'T FOLLOW ME ¡is that simple!

the situation with the person who is the owner of the server where they talk shit about me has not moderate well the place and allowed ppl to hate talk about a creator who they don't even know, neither talk to, nor they should interact with.

I tried to confront the person by sending them a text message on tumblr, said text message has been ignored and the person simply uploaded a new post back then, so....

also im going to tag this with vat7k bc the problem happened inside the fandom.

screenshots and more details under the cut

how to respect other people's boundaries

aparently y'all need a tutorial

"A certain kind of guided, detailed writing can not only help us process what we’ve been through and assist us as we envision a path forward; it can lower our blood pressure, strengthen our immune systems, and increase our general well-being. Expressive writing can result in a reduction in stress, anxiety, and depression; improve our sleep and performance; and bring us greater focus and clarity."

this is from an article of harvard that explains how writting helps to heal trauma.

remember to inform yourself before talking or using terms you don't know the meaning

trauma bonding definition

what is destructive criticism

I can accept criticism when it comes from a place of pointing out a part of my artwork that can be upgraded or a different technique i could use, or even the pose or the technical aspect of a painting/drawing, what is literally just insulting an artwork because you don't like it and have no grounds for it and is just hate... that's what i don't accept.

criticism and arguments come from a ground of respect from the both sides, not from only straight up hate and disrespect.

that's all i have to say abt it all...

please remember to be safe online and even more if youre a minor

how to be safe online

#vat7k #im tired...#cw a trans fem on a dress #cw a twink on a dress #cw varian #cw dress #cw twink #cw a pixel #cw cw

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echoingbirdsofprey · 2 months ago

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Delicate (Jake's Version)

25 - I Find Some Peace Of Mind, Knowing I Let Go In Time

Pairings: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x OFC Samantha Kazansky, OMC Captain Bodhi 'Sunshine' Denson x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: EXPLICIT (MDNI!) (DON'T YOU DARE I STG)

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNINGS description of sexual coercion leading to dubious consent leading to sexual assault, traumatic fear response in a separate encounter, and at the end SMUT (not related to the SA) unprotected!piv (wrap before you tap)

A/N: This is long and it's very important. There are trigger warnings. They are as follows: description of sexual coercion leading to dubious consent, leading to sexual assault. Yes, this is a flashback of what Sam told Jake about. No, it is not the entire encounter but if you feel uncomfortable in any way, I suggest you not read it and you skip down to the planes and anchor page break. After the page break you will find and encounter that Sam has with another man that is not Rooster and not Jake. This encounter is from Sam's memory and it shows her trauma and hesitation and it is also the one that helps her heal (slightly) from what Rooster did. At the very end you will find a small section of her with Jake. This chapter is a fucking journey and I honestly enjoyed writing it so much because though we speak about about sexual assault and a certain 'R' word, I don't think we speak about encounters like this one mentioned enough. That's all I'll say on that. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, and thank you for continuing to read. I know I've thrown some real curve balls at y'all but hopefully they bring something real and emotionally to the story that resonates.

As always your feedback drives me and I appreciate every comment, reblog, and like on these stories. And yes, I thought of Alex O'Loughlin when I was writing Bodhi Denson. Song listed below was the inspiration for the title and storyline for this particular chapter.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva

Samantha entered the bar on her father's arm. He had just had surgery not long ago to remove several tumors along his esophagus and he was not in much of a place to talk. She noticed a familiar face coming through the crowd.

“Hey Sammy.” Rooster said as he pulled her into for a hug. It was a warm and tight hug, and she could tell how much he missed her by the duration of it.

“Hey Roos. Long time no see huh?” She said. Her father stepped away, being ushered by Maverick to hang out with some of their old friends. She recognized Slider and Wolfman, old friends of their, and fellow pilots, who had come visit the house many a time while Sam was growing up. Rooster left his hand’s lingering on her waist and he smiled down at her.

“I missed you.” He said, pulling her in again for a hug, this time shorter and then he awkwardly let go of her.

“Yeah you too.”Sam said, feeling there was an odd tension between the two of them, but she decided to ignore it. Rooster found a table in the back of the room and set Sam up there. He went to get drinks for both of them several times and it didn’t take long for Sam to feel herself getting tipsy. Rooster noticed and put a hand at her back to steady.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I'm a little drunk Roos.” She giggled, her brain feeling all happy and bubbly with the alcohol.

“Well maybe you should head home?” He said, as he gently caressed her cheek. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. She was dizzied by the action, his hand wrapping around her back and his other at the back of her neck. She pushed him away and wiped her mouth, glaring at him.

“Dad's with Mav. He's enjoying himself.” She said in a somewhat annoyed tone. It wasn’t directed at her father. It was towards Rooster.

“I can take you wherever you wanna go then.” He said and she pursed her lips.

“Why don't we go back to your place if you're so keen on kissing me. I don't want anyone to think we're together.” She joked, making Rooster bristle. Sometimes he hated her when she was drunk. She became a completely different person.

“Wow, Sammy. That's harsh.” He said and she shrugged and took another sip of her drink.

“Sorry but I'm not allowed to date Navy guys. Daddy says so.” She said in a teasing tone. Rooster grabbed for her again, this time pinning her to a wall in a more secluded area.

“I'm not just any Navy guy.” Rooster said as he descended on her lips again. Sam fought him, clawing at his shirt to try to get him off. He only pulled away when she dug her long nails into his chest.

‘Bradley. Stop it. I'm drunk.” She murmured, with a goofy smirk. Rooster couldn’t tell if she was being serious, or if she was trying to get him horny. Either way, he wasn’t having her be this drunk and stay at the bar.

‘C'mon princess.” He said, taking her hand and pulling her out of the bar.

“Where are we going? You can't drive.” She asked as he pulled her along.

“My apartment is a couple minutes walk.” He murmured and she tried to dig in her heels but she was wobbly and he was the only thing keeping her from falling. Not wanting to hurt herself she gave in and followed. When they arrived, he fumbled with his keys but unlocked the door and let them in. He led her to the couch and got her settled and then went to lock the door and get two glasses and a bottle of vodka. “Another drink?”

“I don't need to be more drunk you idiot.” She groaned and laid her head back against the back of the couch.

“Well now you're safe so...if you want it...” He said, pouring a shot in each glass. He handed it to her and they both smirked at each other and took the shot. Rooster loved a good drink with a pretty girl.

As they sat on the couch, Rooster placed his phone on the table and pressed play on a playlist with old soft rock music that his dad used to listen to. He scooted closer to Sam as she placed her glass down. He reached for her, his hands going for her waist. She tensed and Rooster’s grip tightened slightly.

“Roos...” Sam sighed, as he began to kiss her neck. “Roos, stop.”

He drew back and he sighed. He stood and walked to another room. Sam sat there for a few moments, wondering if she’d upset him. She stood, wobbly as all hell and used the wall to head toward the room that she thought he went into. He was standing in the middle and when he saw Sam he stepped toward her.

“Roos, why are you so sad?”

“I just need a friend right now, Sammy. Work’s been hell. I’m so tired.”

“I’m sorry, Roos.” She said, placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned down and pulled her close. He drew back and kissed her again.

“I need a friend right now, Sammy.” He said softly, as his arms caged her in. She was dizzy from the alcohol. The room was spinning and she was so disoriented so she let Rooster pull her toward the bed hoping it would stop there, both the effects of the alcohol and Rooster coming onto her. He turned and placed her down on the bed, climbing over the top of her. He began to pull the skirt of her dress up and she squirmed in his arms.

“Bradley...I don’t want...” She began but his fingers made their way to her core. She gasped at the intrusion. He was rough and sloppy with his digits as he worked her arousal up.

“C’mon princess, please, just be a good girl for me? I’ll be really good to you.” She couldn't help what her body was doing. She felt betrayed by it. She felt betrayed by her childhood friend.

“Bradley, please stop.” She moaned. He drew back for a moment and his gaze darkened.

“I thought you liked me, Sammy. I like you. I love you.” His grip tightened more and Sam’s eyes widened. He pulled away to unbutton his pants.

“I do like you, Roos.” Sam said, becoming complacent. She knew she couldn't overpower him, and she also knew that this wasn't him, it was the alcohol. In the back of her mind though, this was him. He had always been pushy with her. The alcohol just seemed to make him worse.

“Well, then kiss me Sammy.” He said and she kissed him back hesitantly. If she appeased him, he wouldn’t escalate, or at least that was her hope.

“I don’t want to do it like this...” She said, and it seemed as though for a moment, his demeanor changed and his gaze softened. His grip lessened.

“You’re killing me with all this back and forth, princess. Let's just do this. We've been friends forever, don't you want more?” He asked and he gave her a moment, running his hand gently over her cheek, a stark contrast to how he had begun. Her eyes met his.

“I...Roos..” She began but as he freed himself from his pants, there was no time to object. He pushed inside of her and quieted her pained moan with his mouth. He only pulled away to praise her.

“God, I knew you’d feel good, Samantha. I fucking knew it. Been dreaming about this for years, princess.” He sighed against her ear and she closed her eyes tight, as she grabbed his biceps, trying to ground herself. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he continued.

She didn't want this.

🛩⚓️🛩

A couple of months later...

“This seat taken?” Sam heard a voice behind her, making her flinch slightly. She wasn’t coming out to get hit on. She came to people watch. And because she knew Rooster wasn’t in Miramar.

“No, feel free.” She said, her tone annoyed. The man sat down at the bar stool next to her and smiled. Sam glanced at him and did a double take. He was...good looking. Tall, blond, blueish eyes, and a beard with a bit of grey mixed in. He was slender and muscular, and surprisingly pale. He wore his Navy khakis, and Sam glanced at his name patch and rank. A silver eagle. Captain Denson.

“Thanks. I'm Bodhi.” He said, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“I'm Samantha.” She said, taking his hand, it was big and warm. She blushed a little and pulled her hand away. His smile was warm and he regarded her softly.

“Your Kazansky's daughter right? He's an old friend.” He said. Sam raised a brow.

“Yeah. How do you know my dad?” She asked.

“ I'm a pilot. Flew with him a while back.” He said, leaning his elbow on the bar. Penny smiled at him and placed a beer in front of him.

“Oh yeah? What’s your callsign then? Maybe he’s mentioned you.” Sam said, her tone slightly teasing.

“Sunshine.” He said, taking a sip of the beer.

“Nope, don’t recognize that. You have a story for that?” Sam asked, finishing off her own drink. Her third Moscow Mule.

“Everyone in my squadron used to make fun of me for being a grumpy fuck in the morning, so they called me Sunshine. I grew to love the teasing. Meant they cared about me. I uh...heard your dad was sick? How's he doing?” Bodhi asked, his smile widening as he told her about his callsign and then a frown returning at the mention of Iceman.

“He's okay. Just had another surgery but recovered well. I'm hoping he'll make it to my graduation.” Sam explained and he nodded.

“I'm sure he does too. What about you? Graduation from where?” He asked.

“Harvard. Finance.” Sam said matter-of-factly.

“Smart and beautiful. “ Bodhi said with a smirk, then he glanced away as if he’d embarrassed himself by saying that. Sam thanked him for the compliment and it almost made her laugh. His eyes searched the bar and then he asked her another question. “Are you just home for the weekend?”

‘Yeah.” She said, as Penny came by and Sam put her hand over her drink, signaling that she didn’t want another.

“Can I buy you a drink then? No strings attached.” Bodhi said as he took another sip of his drink.

“Um...I don't think that's a great idea.” She shook her head and pursed her lips, her eyes fixating on him.

“Okay, yeah, no I get it. Sorry, that was creepy.” His eyes traveled back to hers and his smile was apologetic.

“No, no, I’m just not trying to get super drunk. I've already had a little more than I should've.” Sam said, leaning back on the seat and glancing around. She didn’t know if she should look for a way out yet.

“How about a non-alcoholic drink then?” He asked. Sam’s head whipped around then and she tensed.

“Thank you, but I'm all set.” She said, swallowing hard. Time to start looking for the exit. She shifted in her seat and went to pull her card from her wallet.

“So...you didn't wanna join the Navy like your dad?” Bodhi asked, slowly sipping his beer.

“Haha, no. I have an issue with authority.” Sam chuckled as she handed her card to Penny.

“Yeah? You're a rebel then?” He asked.

“I just don't like men dictating my every move.” Sam said, her eyes meeting his.

“Well, sometimes your superior officer is a woman.” He said, shifting in his seat. Did he just move closer to her?

“Yeah but more often than not it’s a man.” Sam said, bouncing her leg slightly. She was getting inpatient and uncomfortable now.

“Okay...yeah I gotcha. I get it.” He said, another gulp of liquid going down his throat.

“You don’t. You’re a man.” Sam affirmed, her stare hardening.

“You’re right, I don't get it. Help me understand.” Bodhi said, his tone softening.

“You could never understand...” She said, as Penny handed her card back. She placed it in her phone case.

“Try me.” He said, leaning closer, his voice going slightly higher.

“I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.” Sam said, standing and placing her phone on the bar in front of her as she brushed off the front of her dress, making sure there was nothing on it.

“I get the feeling we’re not talking about you not being in the Navy anymore...” Bodhi said, straightening. He tilted his head.

“I’m sorry...I have to go.” Sam panicked and she nearly ran out of the Hard Deck then, wobbly on her feet as she went. By the grace of god she made it out the door and down the front steps but then she heard Bodhi’s voice behind her.

“Hey! Wait up a sec!” He called, and as he got closer, Sam drew back, her eyes wide in fear.

“Look...I’m not interested in you okay?” She raised her voice and he put his hands up.

“Wasn’t asking if you were...you left your phone on the bar...” He said, holding out her phone. Now she felt like an asshole. All thanks to Rooster and every other guy that had tried to pick her up at a bar. Fucking men.

“Oh...I’m so sorry...Thank you.” She said, taking her phone. His hand lingered on hers for a few moments before he pulled back and rubbed the back of his neck. Sam hadn’t realized her breath was coming out quicker than before.

“Look, honey, are you okay to drive home? You just seem real upset...” Bodhi said softly, stepping toward her.

“I’m fine...” She warned, her eyes flicking up to his.

“No, you’re not. Let me drive you home. I swear, I mean no harm, I’m just lookin’ out for you.” His hands were careful on her upper arms and he noticed the mistiness in her brown eyes. She pulled away from him and stepped back.

“No...I...please leave me alone...” She turned to walk away and stumbled.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I wish you the best.” He said, shaking his head. She could hear the complacency in his tone. She took a few more steps and then took a deep breath. She shouldn’t drive. Her vision wasn’t blurry, but the world spun just a little bit and she didn’t want to get into an accident.

“Hey...wait...I’m sorry...actually...you offered...I don’t feel comfortable driving.” She turned and held a hand up apologetically. Bodhi hadn’t budged from his spot.

“Okay. Here, c’mon. My trucks over here.” His voice was gentle and he stepped toward her, putting his arms around her. He helped her into the passenger side and shut the door. He walked around and got in, starting the engine and then glancing at her.

“Where do you live?” He asked. She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to tell him but then reasoning with her stupid brain that she had to for him to drive her home. Idiot.

“Just off Antares Drive.” She said, leaning against the window.

“Okay, short drive.” His hands wrapped around the wheel and Sam could only think about how veiny and big they were...

“Do you not have a wife or kids to go home to?” She asked, eyes searching his form for a lie. He sighed heavily.

“Nah. Divorced. She took the kid and moved him across the country. Cheated while I was deployed. I’m hoping one day Toby, my son, will want to come find me, but I’m not holding out hope.” His glance only made it over her face, which he noticed a blush over her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry.” She said, moving in the seat to face him.

“Nah, it’s okay...what about you? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He asked as he observed how dark it had gotten in so little time.

“No boyfriend. Boys suck. They’re all assholes.” Her tone was bored and flat, and it made Bodhi laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” He said with a smile.

“Especially when they’re your best friend. And they think that you owe them something.” She said, more annoyed now. Bodhi raised a brow.

“Uh...are we getting to the root of your problem here?” He asked, eyes flicking between her and the road.

“I don’t know you...I’ll probably never see you again...I feel like I can tell you anything and it won’t fucking matter.” She confessed, hands playing with the skirt of her dress as she looked back out the window. She could see jets taking off as they drove along a quiet road next to the airstrip.

“That is all pretty accurate.” He said. Sam breathed out and reached for his arm.

“Can you pull over?” She asked.

“Yeah sure.” He pulled over almost immediately, a spot on the shoulder that would give them some privacy. He shut the truck off and turned in his seat to face her. “Okay, I’m listening intently.”

“My friend...not best friend, but childhood friend...did something...and I don’t know what to make of it now because he’s acting like nothing happened.” Sam explained, glancing out the window and biting her lip.

“I’m sorry, honey. Maybe you shouldn’t be telling me this.” Bodhi’s brows knit and his tone was soft.

“I’m not fucking telling anyone else so you’re it.” Sam’s in contrast was harsh and he could see tears form in her eyes, even in the dark.

“Okay, okay. Keep going.” He coaxed, leaning toward her slightly.

“I don’t even know what to call it. It’s so confusing. We were so drunk and his feelings just kind of came to a head. He made me feel bad for not wanting to...so I just let him...but I didn’t want to!” She began to cry and Bodhi reached for her, pulling her into a hug over the center console.

“Honey, that's not a good friend. I know that much. A man should never force you to do anything like that, even if he says he has feelings for you or whatever. If you said no, he should’ve stopped.” He let go of her for a moment and raised the center console and she scooted closer to him. He caged her in, his strong, musky scent somewhat comforting to her.

“He didn’t...” She whined. Sobs wracked her body and Bodhi thought for a moment, what the hell did he get himself into?

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her. He smoothed a hand over her hair gently.

“Physically, no...but my brain is all fucking confused now. I don’t...I don’t understand why he did that. If he loved me, why would he force me to?” She questioned, hoping maybe Bodhi had an answer to her inner turmoil. He did in fact, showing his age and worldly experience.

“Because he thought by making you do it that you’d love him back, which is a pretty fucked up way to think, but you’d be surprised how many men think that way.” He kissed the top of her head and she curled her legs up on the seat, trying to get closer to him.

“Do you think that way?” She asked, looking up at him. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled.

“No, honey. I don’t. That’s why I got cheated on. I was too nice. Too vanilla.” He said, his grip loosening for a moment. Sam leaned up, their faces only inches away from each other.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” She murmured, her eyes glazing over. His tongue poked out to wet his lips and his thumb rubbed over her cheek. She closed the distance, pressing her lips to his fleetingly.

“I’m probably twice your age.” He purred. His thumb stilled as his gaze settled upon hers.

“So what?” She teased and he shook his head.

“This is a bad idea.” He said, drawing back a few inches. He saw how rosy her cheeks were and how pleading her eyes were then.

“Not If we both want it. You came on to me first. You had to expect something like this was going to happen if you played your cards right.” She noted, begging him for another kiss.

“You’re not wrong about that. You’re a pretty girl. Figured I’d at least shoot my shot. Didn’t expect it to go this way.” He obliged, his breath quickening. It had been entirely too long that he;d been with a woman, let alone one so beautiful and young.

“I didn’t either, but now you know my secret.” Sam said seductively.

“So what's that supposed to mean?” Bodhi asked, the hand around her waist tightening. He felt her tense.

“Maybe just for tonight, we both get a little of what we want?” Sam suggested, willing herself to relax into his arms.

“And what is it that you want, honey? What do you need?” He asked, and Sam felt a rush of heat pool at her core. Never had a man asked what she needed so intimately.

“I just want a man to respect me for once.” She affirmed. She shifted, Bodhi slipping closer to the center, placing his legs on either side in the middle of the truck. She straddled his lap and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“I’m being respectful now.” His lips met her collarbone and she let her head fall back.

“You know what I mean...” She whined and his hands went for her hips, massaging the skin there through her dress.

“You really wanna take this old guy for a spin?” He asked, letting his head dip between her breasts.

“I’m open to experimenting.” She’d stopped crying and the alcohol had given her back the courage she needed.

“Damn, girl. I’ll be gentle...I promise...and you ask me to stop...I’m out.” He sighed, raising the skirt of her dress. She unbuckled his belt. As she sank down on his length, Sam’s eyes fluttered closed and then when she opened them, she wasn’t in the truck with Bodhi...

She was in Jake’s room, and he was between her legs, his pretty green eyes staring up quizzically at her.

“You okay, honeybun? You didn’t even notice that I stopped goin’ down on you.” He mused, his smirk wide but his brows furrowed. Sam felt dizzy, like she was drunk, but she knew she hadn’t had any alcohol. She gazed down at Jake. At her fiance..

“Jake...yeah...I’m...okay...can you...please keep going. Sorry. Work just has me frazzled.” She said, propping herself up on her elbows. He crawled up on the bed, over the top of her, all muscle and sinew bound into one handsome package. His lips met hers and she felt his smirk. She did that. She made him smile like that.

“Well let me help with that. Where do you want me?” Jake purred, reaching one hand up and brushing his thumb over her cheek, then his hand steadied her at her chin, pressing a kiss full of desire and devotion to her lips.

“Inside...I want you inside me, Jake, please.” She moaned, smirking when his dog tags jingled and settled between her breasts. Jake pulled her hips taut to his, pressing inside of her with one smooth motion. His name fell from her lips, as he braced himself, grabbing the headboard.

“Demanding. I like it. Relax for me, okay? Let me get’cha there.” Jake growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, licking and sucking marks into the skin there. One of her hands trailed up his back to the back of his neck, threading into his short blond hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He groaned in ecstasy, his thrusts deep and slow. Her other hand gripped his bicep tight, steadying herself. Grounding herself.

This is what she’d always wanted.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x oc #glen powell #top gun fanfiction #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #Spotify

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