#i don’t know if I want to choose to live if it’s in this utter solitude for the rest of my life

[freefolkfightorflight]

It’s just all so unbelievable. So fantastical. I can’t imagine meeting someone who will believe the shit I’ve been through. Going through. I wish I had someone to fucking talk to. Just cry to. To be heard and understood. No silver lining my trauma. No “it’ll all be ok”. Because it won’t. It never has been. This is grief. Mourning. It’ll never be ok. I’ll never be ok. Rent my dress and cover me in ash. Today I fucking mourn. But I’ll learn to live with this pain. I just don’t have a choice I guess. I mean i do have a choice…kind of. I choose not to die today. I choose not to die. I have a choice. This is probably my only choice. But i fucking choose not to die today. I choose not to treat people with hatred. I choose to cry and not hide my tears. I choose to show my pain. I choose to love. I choose to be giddy with joy when I see sunshine. I choose not to become a fucking villain. I have a choice. I choose to be alive and that’s all I got.

[lunaritex]

BETTER SCENERY. . .ᐟ — kinich.

᱖ content: established relationship, reader is gender-neutral, kinich’s personality might be ooc, tooth-rotting fluff.

᱖ from hye: finished natlan’s quest and i am now in love with kinich, thank you for attending my ted talk.

“Wait, I can’t do this! I think I’m going to fall!” You shrieked, squeezing your eyes shut as you clung onto Kinich for dear life, as if he was your final lifeline. Except it proves to be quite accurate in your current position. 

You could feel the wind slapping your cheeks as you moved through the sky. The way Kinich moved is with ease and many years of experience put into it. Your grip tightened on your partner’s frame as you buried your face in his chest, trying to hide your face. 

“Don’t be silly, you won’t fall,” he chuckled.

His laugh would have made your heart skip a beat if it weren’t for the fact that both of you were flying across the sky at lightning speed. An undignified noise left your lips when he made an abrupt turn to his right, resulting in you tightening your grip, if that was even possible. After what felt like decades, Kinich finally came to a stop as his speed gradually slowed down. Your shoulders sagged with relief the moment you felt solid ground beneath your feet. 

However, the moment your feet touch the ground, your knees immediately give way. You would have kissed the ground if Kinich had not caught you in the nick of time. You flashed him a grateful smile; a gesture he returned with his own. To everyone else, Kinich appears aloof and unapproachable, always asking people how much they are willing to pay him for his service. But when it comes to you, Kinich appears as a different person. 

When he is with you, he is more expressive. Kinich always makes it a point to have you stay within his sight, not wanting you to stray away from him to the point he could not find you. The last thing he wants is for you to stumble into the jaws of danger and he doubts he could ever forgive himself for putting you in harm’s way. Once he deems you are steady enough to walk without his help, he moves away but still remains close; the thought behind his action makes your heart flutter in your chest. 

You inhaled and exhaled, breathing in the fresh air Natlan has to offer. “You know, no matter how many times I’ve come here, this view never fails to take my breath away.”

“Hm.” 

Kinichi said nothing, choosing to merely hum in response. He crossed his arms, standing slightly behind you on your right as he observed you from the corner of his eyes. He was able to get a glimpse of how your eyes drink in the scenery spread out before you, how your eyes literally twinkled in delight and joy and how your lips parted, forming a silent ‘O’ shape. The sight of you acting like a child stepping out to explore the outside world made his eyes softened. 

“Kinich, why are you standing there? Come here!” 

He blinked, caught off-guard when you dragged him forward with your fingers interlocked together; not like he has the intention of letting go in the first place. He eventually finds himself standing beside you, shoulders touching. Caressing your knuckles with his gloved fingers, he could not find it in himself to tear his eyes away from you.

“Hey, stop staring at me. It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing red the longer you felt his piercing gaze on you. 

“Nah, I prefer this view instead,” he teased, letting out a rare laugh when you smacked his shoulder, too flustered to utter a single word. 

All he could pray for was he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side and perhaps, he might find life to be more worth living for. 

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.

if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!

—Sole Survivor

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble. 

He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all. 

Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you. 

Alive.

It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.

And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did. 

“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face. 

“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with. 

You know your family loved you. 

“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath. 

“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.” 

“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!” 

“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.” 

You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation. 

“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly. 

“What, then?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”

He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.

You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened. 

“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious. 

“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk. 

“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”

You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly. 

“It’s a compliment.”

“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.

“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.

“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”

It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her. 

He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon. 

“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.

“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of. 

Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other. 

There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks. 

You wave enthusiastically back. 

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”

[byuntrash101]

damnation of a saint (teaser)

pairing — nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3

a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3

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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.

a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3

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[justanerdy-gal]

"Do You Resent Me?" (Astarion x Tav)

-> pairing: Astarion x Tav -> content: fluff/angst -> summary: In which Tav wonders whether Astarion resents her for convincing him to choose to reject the Black Mass ritual and not Ascend. Full of angsty fluff.

-> notes: The finished version of the WIP I posted yesterday. Astarion & Tav draws all the angst and cheesy fluff out of me 🥹

——————

“Do you resent me?”

Astarion looks up, wearily, from the corner of the Elfsong Tavern room that they had been staying in for some time now.

“Darling….what would I have to resent you for…?”

You slowly walk over to his corner of the room, and sit beside him on the edge of the bed. You observe him as he turns his gaze over to the hands in his lap.

“It…just feels like…you may have made your choice because of…me.”

Astarion turns his head to look back at you, betraying nothing in those crimson eyes at the moment, but listening.

“If I wasn’t around….you would have been free to make the choice you always wanted,” you continued, your eyes glassing over as you ponder the thoughts that have been plaguing you since the moment Astarion made his choice in the Szarr palace.

“The freedom that you always craved… did I take that away from you?”

Astarion’s eyes widened as you made your declaration.

“You… think it wasn’t the right choice?”

“Not that,” you tried to clarify. “Maybe… maybe I don’t know what the right choice is. But what mattered is… your choice.”

“You trusted me. You trusted me with a choice that, in the end, goes back centuries…” your voice starts to shake. “A choice with consequences you must live with for…eternity.” You look up at him as tears finally threaten to pour from your eyes. “What right did I have, to ask you to sacrifice yourself to the shadows?”

Astarion stares at you as he ponders your statement. He looks away from you as he stares at the cracked, drying paint on the wall of the old room.

“I think about it every minute, every moment.” Astarion speaks slowly, softly. “I think about the colours of the city. The warmth of the rays at dawn, beckoning me towards the next day. I think about the sanguine hunger I have suffered for over 200 years, and how I could be free from that pain. Free from all limitations. And how that will never be now… once the parasite is destroyed.”

You look up at him in despair as your body threatens to let out a sob.

“And I think about… how it would never be enough.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. His gaze had softened as his fingers move to entwine in your own.

“I see the colours through your eyes, through the stories that you tell me of your adventures. I feel the warmth through your skin as you lay beside me every night.”

“And your blood can sate me better than any power can.” You giggle as he smirks, softly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Before you, before this nautiloid fiasco … I had no reason to want anything else but freedom and power. I only lived to escape what I was. I had everything to gain. And nothing to lose. So ofcourse, this Ascension seemed like an obvious choice.”

“But everything changed,” Astarion said breathily. “From the moment you wormed your way into my heart…you became a complication that I never expected. Suddenly, I had everything to lose.”

“I would have stayed,” you say thickly.

“I know you would,” Astarion says sadly, “but would you have been happy?”

“I probably would have been happy…happier than I was, for sure.” Astarion stares distantly at the wall as he speaks. “But where would that happiness end? What would sate me, if my happiness was dependent on power? I would have to take more, control more, be more…it is surely the fate that befell Cazador, that befalls all with power…more power than they know what to do with.” Astarion winces as he utters his late master’s name. “The need for power, for control, can never be sated. It would never be enough. Nothing would ever be enough.”

“But you, with me, here? That is enough. You are enough. We are enough.”

You pause as you ponder his words for a moment.

“Am I?” you whisper weakly as you stare at your entwined hands.

You feel the chill of his hands as they move up to hold your face tightly, and tilts your head up to look at him. The intensity in his eyes at that moment was like nothing you’ve ever seen on him before.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, staring fiercely into your eyes, as if he was speaking through to your soul. “There is nothing in the world that I wouldn’t sacrifice to remain here by your side. You are my eternity. My mad love. Besides,” Astarion smiles as he stares into your eyes. “I still think it was the right choice, regardless. If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d make the same choice. Every time.”

Astarion’s words cause the tears that you were holding back to creep up to the surface, as your body begins to wrack with heavy sobs, as you let out the doubt and fear that you have been holding since you both learned that the Ascension was a thing – since you have contemplated that potential decision every minute of every day, since the moment Astarion asked you to help him, and you convinced him to give away that power, to save those souls, to save himself. Astarion pulls your head to his chest and holds you tightly as you shake against him.

“My darling, why do you weep? Don’t sell yourself so short. No one else has a heart like you. You’re the only one,” Astarion whispers into your ear.

“I love you,” you declare into his shirt, tears still staining the soft, white material.

“I love you too,” Astarion says, leaning backward, pulling you down with him until he was laying on his back, with your head resting on his chest, hands softly caressing your hair. “I can’t imagine another way I would want to spend the rest of my days, my love. I’m not afraid – not anymore. And especially not of our future.”

And that is how you both fell asleep, with the two of you in eachother’s arms and your dreams of the future in eachother’s hearts.

——————

My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

MASTERLIST

[themotherofhorses]

‘22!simon riley x fem!reader x ‘09!simon riley

warnings: smut. threesome. fingering. allusions to an age gap relationship/relationship between a superior and subordinate. ending open to more future smut.

As I was discussing with @cloudofbutterflies92:

Imagine being sandwiched between ‘09!Ghost and ‘22!Ghost.

Somehow— to be fair, you still don’t know all the details —Ghost’s variant appeared on base; just randomly one October evening, when the 141 was hunkered down in a break room, piled around a TV replaying a previous football match (“Soccer. It’s called soccer, fucking heathens.”).

Well, at least, you assumed him to be his variant; he bore a striking resemblance to your Simon—only years younger, and a tiny bit shorter in height. Yet, the skull-patterned balaclava, shades, and grey-hooded, zipped sweatshirt with the Union Jack patch and insane amount of pockets were the exact same. The sight gave you butterflies in your tummy. 

For the most part, though, you maintained a respectful distance from him—that Ghost, that Simon Riley. 

“Can I refer to him as Poltergeist?”  “Eh, love. Do whatever the hell you want.”

You were Simon Riley’s girl, but he was not your Simon; far from it, in fact. Your Simon was years older, rougher around the edges, with a foul mouth, dry humor, and scars that littered his temple and left cheek. 

Would it still count as cheating? 

Whatever. You refused to think more of it, instead choosing to stow that thought away in the far corner of your mind as you continued on with your main duties and day-to-day routines. By all means, such thinking teetered into dangerous waters — it could be seen as infidelity, which meant a likelihood of losing Simon. You couldn’t survive without him, not without your Simon; he was your soulmate, the same way you were his. 

Which, by extension, meant you were that Simon’s soulmate as well. 

Not that it registered to you, of course. Simon says you’re a bit clueless when it comes to recognizing those little signs; it makes sense — prior to your relationship, you had no idea how obsessed your Lieutenant was with you, and that those lingering touches, soft glances, and praises were not normal between a superior and his subordinate. He calls it endearing (“You’re so clueless, baby. God, what would I do without ya?”). 

Simon— your Simon —knows that his variant wants you. 

It was easy for him to see. Simon Riley loves you so much; he is so unbelievably obsessed with your pretty self, so it made perfect sense for his variant to be equally obsessed with you, too. How could he not be? From the delicious curve of your hipbones, twinkling eyes, and soft hands (so much smaller than his) to the way your plush lips pout, everything about you is utter perfection to him. 

(There is probably no universe out there where he isn’t so fucking deeply in love with you, he tells himself.)

So when his variant’s own blue eyes start following you around anytime you’re in the same room as him (Simon knows he’s licking his lips beneath the balaclava, dirty bloke), instead of feeling jealous, Simon feels— 

—something else. 

Pride. Satisfaction. A bit devilish.

Simon won’t ever share you with anyone else. You’re his. Only he is allowed to see you breathless and whining beneath him, cheeks flushed, soaking the bedsheet as your body ruts against his, soft voice begging for his cock. Other men can dream, but only he lives out those wet dreams. 

But that Simon is still Simon. 

His eyes are almost the same; the bright blueness carries the exact trauma, hardness, and wariness, made from years of childhood abuse and depression. He has the hands once used in the butcher shop, and the long, thin scar on the back of his neck, where his bastard of a father slammed a beer bottle down during a drunken frenzy. The only difference, however, is that his variant still hasn’t found his main reason to live: 

You.

You’re the medicine to Simon’s soul. The first time he gazed into your eyes, he knew he found his reason to continue living in this shitty world; and the first time he stuffed you full of his cock, molding your previously untouched cunt to the shape of him, he told himself there was no way for him to live without you. How he survived this far without you, he’ll never know.

Therefore, he’ll call it a dosage.

You’d call it a threesome. 

He has you seated on the living room couch, legs spread apart wide as both Simons have their hands buried deep in your pretty cunt—stretching you out more than what you’re used to. You take turns sloppily making out with both men, their massive cocks held in your hands as your tongue entangles with theirs.

“Oh…oh my god,” you mewl, suddenly flinging your head back as their thick fingers piston in and out of your tiny hole; there is a soft, squelching sound that fills the room as they repeatedly slide through your juices.

“Bloody hell, she’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” the younger Simon groans, bending down to suck on your nipple. He runs his free hand over your other breast, teasing your sensitive nub with his thumb. “Lucky bastard.” 

Your Simon smirks at that. “She loves havin’ her pretty pussy played with. Aye, don’t ya, love?” His fingers curl to hit that spongy g-spot that causes you to shriek and squirm and see stars, your pussy tightening around him. Simon grits his teeth. “Look at ya, baby…all flushed and panting.” He picks up the pace, thrusting his two fingers faster.

“C’mon, pretty girl," he further coos, tucking a strand behind your ear. "Be a good girl and cum all over our hands, yeah?” 

You nod, bucking your hips to follow their thrusts, in sheer desperation for your orgasm. The younger Simon leaves wet kisses along your jawline, lathering the skin around your mouth with his tongue. “God, you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against your skin with a deep, guttural moan, his fingers continuing to fuck your pussy, with his thumb rubbing your puffy, little clit roughly. 

“Tastes good for a Yank, huh?”

“I could survive off of her for life.”

Your back arches from the overstimulation, a puddle of salva pooling at the edge of your swollen lips. “Si—SIMON, FUCK.” You’re not sure which Simon the moan is meant to be for, and you’re also not sure how much longer you’re gonna last; your pussy is only becoming wetter, and you’re unable to muster out any words. “P-please, please, p-please.”

“Good fucking girl. That’s it. Cum for us. Cum for your men.” 

Meanwhile, younger Simon kisses the side of your mouth, pumping his fingers inside your poor pussy faster. “C’mon, love. Lemme feel you cum.” 

“Cum on our fingers—” your Simon mumbles in your ear again, pausing to suck your earlobe between his lips. He gives it a gentle tug with his teeth, making you squeak.“—like a good girl, and you’ll get your pussy eaten. Sounds good, yeah, don’t it, baby?” 

“Simon,” you whine out, oh so prettily. 

He grins. “C’mon, baby. That’s my good girl. Gimme  it—I know you can, pretty girl.” 

His words do it for you. With a loud, high-pitched moan, your mouth drops in a perfect, little ‘o’ as you shriek, gushing around their fingers, feeling a sharp orgasm raking across your body. Your legs shake while you fall limp against the couch’s cushion, breathing heavily. 

“Holy shit,” the younger Simon breathes while pulling his fingers out of your pussy. Would you look at that? In the room’s lighting, he can see the way they glisten with a mess of your juices, staring down at it with a mix of admiration, awe, and pure lust.

“Fuck.” He raises them to his mouth, slowly sucking off your essence with a low mmmm. “So fuckin’ good.” 

"Yeah?"

"Bloody fuckin' lucky bloke you are, mate."

"I know."

Their back-and-forth banter makes you giggle. "God," you pant, all flushed and covered in countless hickies. “Can’t drive for shit but knows how to give a girl a damn good orgasm.” 

“Hey,” your Simon chuckles, squeezing your thigh. “Don’t start with that shit, love.” He gives your forehead a kiss before gently caressing your chin, “Why don’t ya spread your thighs again and give him a taste, right from the source, hm?”  

[norrizzandpia]

Masterlist 2

Lando Norris:

It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here

It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

A Sign Of My Love

In which Lando chooses the most obvious way to declare his love for his best friend and she is the only one who doesn’t get it.

All He Needed Was Her

Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

A Second Chance

Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

You Were Never What I Wanted, Pt. 2

Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Ski Trips and Smiles

A proposal on a snowy ski trip.

Showing You My Love

McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

One-Sided Fake Dating Pt. 2

When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?

Love You the Way I Do

When Y/n starts to pull back, Lando knows exactly what to do.

When?

Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.

Safe With Me, Love

When a man at a club makes Y/n uncomfortable, touching her, grabbing her, Lando’s the first to stop it.

The First Time

In the midst of the dirtiest act, Lando’s loose lips stall his impending orgasm.

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean.

Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

My Coat, Your Coat

Y/n is freezing. Lando is her boyfriend. There’s only one remedy.

Whatcha Readin’?

It was a good story, that was her only argument.

Look How Amazing You Are

After Lando’s disastrous qualifying in Qatar and redeeming podium just hours later, Y/n is there to remind Lando of where his worth truly lies.

Sparkling Eyes

When Y/n is distracted, Lando usually takes the opportunity to admire her. Although, this time, he has an audience.

She Calls Me Daddy Too

When Y/n and Lando are having dinner at her house with her parents, Y/n asks her father to pass the salt. Too bad she didn’t specify which one she was referring to.

His

When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.

I’ve Got You

In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.

Lala

When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

My Name

Y/n and Lando have a painful past together. When they go their separate ways and are left to pick up the pieces, Lando realizes he can no longer hear the woman he loved’s name without feeling deeply ashamed.

We Can Be Kids For Right Now

When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Wrong Number, Right Person

A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

HE WON! LAN WON!

A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Olive

After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead

Y/n’s close to fatal car crash and the epiphanies that followed.

Can You See Me Using Everything To Hold Back

Lando and Y/n have always been as close as can be, but unresolved and disregarded feelings threaten everything they thought they once knew.

Oscar Piastri:

British v. American

In which Oscar tries to teach his girlfriend how to drive in England. The only catch? She’s never driven on the other side of the road. Oh, and she’s never driven anywhere else except for California.

Don’t Worry Everyone. I’m Alive.

The fans love her, so when they hear their favorite driver, her boyfriend, killed her, they aren’t happy.

Sleeping Buddies or Dating?

Oscar and Y/n love to sleep next to each other. They don’t love each other. That’s it.

Storms

Where Y/n hates thunder storms and Oscar’s the only person who can calm her down.

Let’s Have A Baby, Baby

There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

When’s It My Turn

When Oscar can’t find Y/n and realizes she’s off with Logan, he gets possessive over how much time his girlfriend has to give.

Chuck a Uey

Blurb when Non-Australian!Reader misses a turn and Oscar tells her to “chuck a uey”. Long story short, she has absolutely no clue what that means.

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen

Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Just Benefits Right Now

It’s common knowledge they love each other. Just not to them - even when they’re sleeping together.

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

[softsturn]

the beach - m.s

⩩ pairing: matt x fem!reader

⩩ summary: matt is caught jerking off to his best friend (inspired by @heartstreet !! full creds to them for this idea)

⩩ warnings: masturbation, handjob, p-in-v, half assed writing at the end.

⩩ a/n: sorry i haven’t posted much, its been so hard to think of ideas. i wanted to make a part two of what i last posted but i literally don’t know how to continue it😭 thank you for all the likes and follows!! pls leave me requests :)

Describing the bond between you and Matt exceeds the simplicity a mere friendship. Growing up, you lived only a few houses away from his, you shared the same schools, and practically every experience was a joint venture. It wasn't just common knowledge; it was an undeniable truth that wherever you went, a blue-eyed boy with brown hair was sure to follow, mirroring your every step like a lost puppy. The invisible tie binding you two seemed unbreakable, preventing you from straying far apart.

Now, at Cape Cod, a destination woven into the fabric of your cherished summer memories, you eagerly await Matt and his family’s arrival. Setting up foldable chairs and towels on the sandy shores, you can hardly contain your anticipation, eager to continue the tradition of shared moments under the sun.

As if on cue, his family strolled towards the beach, carrying an assortment of towels, bags, chairs, and a cooler. Your face lit up with a vibrant smile upon spotting the three identical boys approaching with palpable excitement. They placed their belongings on the sand, and you greeted them eagerly.

Matt's eyes widened noticeably, practically popping out of his sockets as he unabashedly drank in the sight of you. While you maintained your usual level of beauty, his gaze lingered on your figure. Stepping out of your comfort zone, you had chosen a two-piece bikini opposed to a one piece like you normally wore, showcasing newfound confidence in your evolving body. The swimsuit hugged you in all the right places, baring your torso and clinging snugly to your curves. Matt found himself caught in a momentary, lustful gaze, slightly zoning out as Nick and Chris enthusiastically hyped you up in the background.

"You look so good girl!" exclaimed Nick, with Chris joining in laughter, while you, feeling a bit shy, crossed your arms over your stomach.

Coming back to reality from his fleeting thoughts, Matt nodded and offered you a small, genuine smile. "You look..." he hesitated, carefully choosing his words to avoid any discomfort for you. "Pretty," he mumbled sheepishly, prompting a soft blush to grace your face. Matt's compliments held a unique significance, seeming to carry more weight than others, his opinion reigning supreme in your mind.

"Thank you," you replied with a shy giggle, while Nick and Chris exchanged amused glances, furrowing their brows at the subtle dynamics unfolding between the two of you. The unspoken connection, the palpable undercurrent of something more than friendship, was evident to everyone around. Jokes from your parents about an impending marriage and teasing from Matt's brothers were constant reminders of the unspoken truth – you and Matt shared a love that transcended platonic feelings, even if the explicit words hadn't been uttered.

After a few hours under the warm sun, the faint emergence of sunburn and light freckles adorned your face, telling tales of days spent soaking up the heat. Meanwhile, Matt wrestled with his thoughts, a delicate balance between loyalty to your friendship and the desire that threatened to breach inappropriate territories. He harbored a profound fear of jeopardizing the trust you shared or causing any discomfort, acutely aware that losing you was a risk he couldn't fathom.

As you stood, engrossed in gathering your belongings and bending over slightly, Matt couldn't suppress the way his gaze involuntarily traced the curves of your figure, particularly fixating on your ass. His mind danced with forbidden scenarios, imagining actions he both longed for and felt conflicted about. Sensing a warmth spreading through him, he nervously looked away, trying to prevent any telltale signs of his internal struggle.

You straightened up, holding your possessions with a toothy grin, completely oblivious to the subtle turmoil in Matt's mind. "I'll see you back at the house," you said softly. Matt offered a slight nod and joined his brothers in packing up their belongings. As you made your way to your car, your parents loading up the trunk, you settled into the back seat, succumbing slowly to sleep, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you.

Waking up with a groan, you found your parents' car parked by the side of the road in front of the triplets' house, just a few doors down from your own. The plan was to spend the night at their place, a routine that had become usual given your inclination to seek comfort in their home over your own. Extracting yourself from the car, you grabbed your overnight bag, bidding farewells to your parents as you watched them drive away.

Your bathing suit clung persistently to your body, your hair still damp, and the weariness in your limbs yearning for the promise of relaxation. Shuffling into Matt's home without bothering to knock, the unspoken familiarity of years spent together allowed you the privilege of simply letting yourself in. Passing through the kitchen, Matt's parents greeted you with warm smiles as you entered the living room.

There, Matt, Nick, and Chris were sprawled on the couch, engrossed in a movie that you were sure they had seen at least a thousand times. When Matt's eyes met yours, a soft expression played on his face, evident in the effort to maintain eye contact with your face rather than letting his gaze wander.

"Hey," he murmured, and you returned the greeting with a gentle smile, playfully ruffling his hair as you stood over him. "Hey, I'm gonna go shower. I'll join you guys if you're still out here when I'm done." With that, you ventured down the hall, heading toward the guest bedroom.

In the midst of a hot shower, as you washed away the residue of salty water and sand, Matt and his brothers grew disinterested in the movie, dispersing to their separate bedrooms. Collapsing onto his bed with a weary sigh, exhaustion permeated Matt's body. Turning to his phone, he absentmindedly scrolled through various social media apps. Refreshing his Instagram feed, he stumbled upon a recent post you had shared before stepping into the shower.

The post featured a series of photos taken by Nick during your beach outing. One image captured you from the side, accentuating your ass and curves, while another showcased the contours of your cleavage and perky boobs from the front. Although the intention behind the pictures was innocent, Matt's mind became inundated with impure thoughts. Consumed by a sense of guilt, he recognized the inappropriateness of his desires, grappling with conflicting emotions. You were his best friend, and he was acutely aware that such lascivious thoughts were unwarranted. It was more than mere lust; he harbored genuine love for you and a desire to be a person deserving of your affection.

As Matt stared at his screen, a warmth enveloped his body, and he found himself unable to suppress the physical reaction, a boner forming in his pants. He felt conflicted, but it wasn’t like you knew what he was thinking, or doing. Succumbing to the intensity of his desire, he pulled his pants down enough to free himself, his cock springing out of his boxers. He took his cock into his right hand, phone in his left hand, and he began to stroke himself, allowing his imagination to run wild with scenarios that had occupied his dreams. The room echoed with subtle grunts and whimpers as he finally started to release the pent-up feelings that had plagued him throughout the day.

You emerged from the invigorating shower, enveloped in a towel, the sensation of cleanliness and renewal coursing through you. Exiting the bathroom, you ventured into the guest bedroom designated for your night's rest, shutting the door behind you. As you delved into your bag, extracting essentials like panties, shorts, and a tank top, the soft fabrics embraced you once you shed the towel. Nighttime rituals of hair brushing, skincare, and teeth cleaning completed, you settled into the guest bedroom, a sanctuary that had become almost like your own.

The tranquility was fleeting, interrupted by a shiver that prompted a quest for warmth. Rummaging through your bag, you discovered the absence of a hoodie – an oversight that led you down the hall to Matt's bedroom. Assuming he'd still be awake, you envisioned a simple request to borrow one of his hoodies. Little did you anticipate the unexpected scene awaiting you.

Without bothering to knock, a habit formed over years of friendship, you barged into Matt's room, focused on your hoodie mission. "I need to borrow a hoodie; it's freezing—" your words trailed off as your gaze absorbed the shocking sight. Matt, in his bed, his hand pumping up and down his cock, his phone displaying pictures of you. A gasp escaped him as your presence registered, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and guilt. "Y/N..." he uttered, his phone slipping from his hand onto the bed, his hand movements abruptly halted in the realization of the awkward situation.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry; I didn't think—I should've knocked. I'll just go get one from Nick," you mumbled nervously, ready to retreat. The air hung heavy with the unspoken tension, both of you grappling with the potential ramifications on your friendship. Before you could exit, Matt called to you, conflicted between wanting you to stay and the desire to erase this awkward moment.

"Don't go," he uttered, wincing at his own words, attempting to clarify that he wasn't making advances or asking for anything. You stood there, caught in a surreal tableau, uncertain about how to navigate this unexpected revelation. Blinking in an attempt to regain composure, you voiced a question laden with curiosity and awkwardness.

"Do you... do this often?" your brows furrowed, your gaze drifting toward his needy cock. Matt sighed, grappling with shame, attempting to rein in his emotions. "Jerk off? Or jerk off to you..." he replied, injecting a hint of humor to alleviate the palpable tension.

"Jerk off to me," you clarified, offering a sheepish smile, grateful for his attempt to inject some levity. Matt, in a vulnerable admission, stumbled through an explanation, striving to avoid sounding like a creep. The guilt weighed heavily on him, sensing that he had betrayed the sanctity of your friendship.

"This is the first time—I'm sorry. You just looked so pretty all day, and I couldn't... I don't know," he rambled, his remorse evident. Expecting you to recoil, Matt braced for the consequences of his impure thoughts. Yet, to his surprise, you stepped closer, the bed dipping as you sat on the edge near his legs. Your eyes danced everywhere but on his throbbing cock.

"It's okay; I'm not mad," you reassured, the tension easing with your understanding words. In that moment, you appreciated the side of Matt that could inject humor even into the most awkward situations, and despite the strangeness of the circumstance, a reassuring smile graced your lips.

"You're not?" he asked, confusion etching his face as his gaze reached the end of the bed where you were. The bewilderment stemmed from the expectation of your anger; he believed he deserved your fury. You shook your head, dispelling any doubts that lingered in his mind. "I'm not mad," you affirmed, inhaling deeply before contemplating the weight of your next words. The undeniable truth of their mutual feelings lay bare, an unignorable reality that both had been evading.

"Do you want me to help you?" you inquired, addressing the underlying tension. Matt hesitated, shaking his head in a refusal. Your offer, though tempting, made him reluctant, not wanting you to feel obliged, and questioning his own worthiness of such an intimate gesture. “Y/N… you don’t have to.”

Sighing, you crawled to sit on his knees, his cock twitching right before you, aching for release. It wasn't about obligation; it was about love. You wanted to be the one to bring him pleasure. "I know, I want to," you reassured, meeting his gaze as he deliberated. "Please," he whimpered, desperation evident on his face. Taking it as a signal, you palmed him, your hand trembling slightly as you sought confirmation in his eyes, ensuring every move was met with consent.

As you encountered nothing but longing in his gaze, your hand tentatively began to move, gliding up and down his length. The unspoken revelation that you were not very experienced was apparent to him, and a twinge of guilt crept in as he allowed you to pleasure him. Determined not to make this solely about his satisfaction, he seized the moment, grasping your wrist and redirecting your hand away from his arousal, prompting you to lean forward.

In an impulsive move, he pressed his lips forcefully against yours, his tongue seeking entry, savoring the taste of your chapstick. The kiss bore neither aggression nor softness; instead, it carried the weight of years filled with tension, prolonged gazes, and lingering touches, finally unfurling in this shared moment. Pulling back slightly, he noticed your lips chasing after his, seeking more contact with his lips.

"I want to make you feel good too," he murmured against your lips, his words flushing your face with heat, a wetness growing between your legs. The dynamics shifted, and now it was you yearning for him. His hands found your hips, drawing you closer until you straddled his waist, your clothed pussy pressing against his cock. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pajama shorts and panties, seeking consent as he looked up at you.

"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked, and in response, you nodded, lifting yourself to allow him to slide them down your legs before resuming the straddled position, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

You took a sharp breath, nerves tingling as you ventured into unfamiliar territory with Matt. As he ran a finger through your wet folds, he licked his lips, captivated by the sight of your pretty pussy. In that moment, Matt would have done anything and everything you asked, he was completely at your mercy. Firmly holding your hips, he allowed your wet cunt to hover over his cock. While his desires tempted him to force you down and make you take it, his deep care for you held him back, especially given the significance of this being your first time.

"Go slow, okay? It's going to hurt a little, but I'm right here," he said. Nodding, you began the descent, wincing as his tip slipped into your enterance. "Oh my god, Matt," you moaned, your words interrupted as Matt leaned up, pressing his lips to yours to stifle your sweet sounds, mindful of his brothers sleeping down the hall.

Gradually, you took more of him in, whimpering at the initial stinging sensation as his cock stretched your tight walls. Eventually, you lowered yourself completely onto him, pausing to adjust to the sensation of him buried deep inside you. "Such a good girl, taking me so well," he cooed.

“Feels so good,” you murmured, the words escaping on a breath as you began to move your hips against him, keeping a steady rhythm. He gripped your hips firmly, and you were sure there would be red marks left behind. His kisses trailed down your neck, lips brushing over your collarbones and shoulders, marking you with purposeful hickeys that finally declared you as his, even though you had always belonged to him.

Slowly, he lifted your tank top over your head, tossing it aside in the room's shadows. "So fucking pretty," he mumbled, his gaze lingering on you through half-lidded eyes. His mouth descended, lavishing much-needed attention on your boobs, kissing and licking your sensitive nipples with devotion. In his eyes, your body was a masterpiece, and he aimed to ensure you knew just how perfect you were. Every gesture was a testament to his worship, eliciting small moans of pleasure as you succumbed to the sensations he bestowed upon you.

"Faster, please," he choked out, a desperate need cracking his voice as he trailed kisses down the valley of your breasts. Swiftly obeying, you quickened the pace, moaning as you rocked back and forth on his cock. Yet, the soreness lingering from your day at the beach made it challenging. Matt noticed, his hands helping to move your hips, orchestrating a rhythm that heightened the pleasure. He began to thrust into you, hips meeting yours, intensifying the sensation.

Throwing your head back, eyes rolling, pleasure consumed you, a knot tightening in your stomach. One of his hands left your hip, moving downward, his thumb expertly circling your swollen clit. Overwhelmed, words escaped you, your mind consumed by him. "Fuck, Matt," you managed to whimper in your love-drunk state, a proud smirk gracing his lips as he witnessed you lost in pleasure, knowing he was the only one to evoke such a response.

"Cum for me, princess," he urged in a whiny, broken voice, his own release imminent. His words triggered your climax, a stream of mumbled curses and whines escaping you as pleasure saturated every inch of your being. Surrendering to the intensity, you abandoned your movements, letting him guide and sway you through the waves of orgasmic ecstasy. His release followed suit, white streams of cum shooting into you, accompanied by his whimpering and grunting.

As the movements ceased, he lay beneath you, both of you attempting to catch your breath. Gingerly lifting yourself off him, a wince accompanied the sensitivity as his cock withdrew from your cunt. Rolling over, you nestled next to him, curling into his side, a lazy hand draped over his waist. His hand found its way to your head, tenderly stroking your hair as you rested against his chest, syncing your breathing with his.

"Get some rest; I'm taking you on a date tomorrow," he grinned mischievously, planting light kisses on your forehead. Raising your head, curiosity piqued, you questioned, "A date?" He nodded, gently pushing your head back to his chest, his fingers continuing to stroke your hair in a soothing rhythm.

"A date. So I can ask you to be my girlfriend," he chuckled, of course Matt wanted to do things right despite having just fucked you dumb. You chuckled in response, appreciating Matt's intent. "Okay, I can't wait to say yes," you declared, both of you closing your eyes, eager for the embrace of sleep and the beginning of this new chapter in your relationship.

[lady-dulcinea]

Something the October 11th entry really highlights is how much Mina and Jonathan are sure about each other. How much they know each other to the point they can read each other without any perceived difficulty, and how their devotion, their partnership, although treasured and seamlessly reciprocated by both, is never even questioned by them.

When Mina receives news that Jonathan is alive, she goes, an unmarried and unaccompanied woman, all the way to find him and marry him, even tho he’s still traumatised, half mad from his stay at Castle Dracula, and in the eyes of society could very much be considered an “invalid”. But she marries him anyway, and although Jonathan does gently reaffirm the delicate state of his body and specially his mind, he never really seems overly surprised that she chose him despite it all. And in the same entry we see a similar reaction from Mina when Sister Agatha feels the need to inform her that she shouldn’t worry that Jonathan’s malady might be because of some other woman; she all but scoffs at the idea, because it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Of course there isn’t another woman. Similarly, as she eventually makes acquaintance with several men, all of them rich bachelors who grow a quick and openly affectionate bond with her, Jonathan has not a single moment of insecurity about it. Of course they all love Mina, why wouldn’t they? Jealousy requires a certain lack of confidence in your partner that neither of them has. Their worries concerning each other are always ALWAYS directed at external influences: That something will hurt them, or that something will keep them from each other.

Which brings us to October 11th, when that sureness is brought to it’s highest, most tragic peak. Jonathan knew what Mina intended calling them all to meet her before their trip. He was so sure of it he spoke with Jack beforehand to make sure it would all be documented correctly, as he himself would never be able to write down such a thing as a symbolic funeral for his beloved. And he also knew what she would make them promise to do.

Because Mina, beyond just wishing to have the littlest bit of agency over her own death, is being strategic here. She knows Jonathan will “be with her to the very end”. She does not need to know of the promise he made to her in the solitude of his diary. Their devotion to each other is a given, one they do not take for granted, but that they expect nonetheless because they know each other and the strength of their love. Had she read the promise, she would undoubtedly be shocked by it, specifically by the utter heresy of it, devout as she is to her faith. But she would not be surprised, and this entry shows her anticipating what the Worst Case Scenario could potentially do to her husband, and trying to avoid it at all cost.

No, I don’t think she gone as far as assuming that Jonathan would deliberately choose vampirism for her. He has been as much of a devout christian as her for most of their lives, and tho she is not blind to the changes the last few months (and specially the last few days) have caused on him, she would not there suggest the Holiest Love conclusion is anywhere close to his mind. For after all, she has explicitly stated that she wants to be received by the grace of God, wants the same freedom granted by the boys to the soul of dear Lucy, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t deny her that.

Right?

And guys, as much as I love Jonathan’s vow and how he absolutely refuses to let her “walk into that unknown and terrible land alone”… it is a selfish vow. Romantic to the core, but selfish. Jonathan knows that’s not what Mina wants. He phrases it in a way that makes it seem like he is doing it purely out of love for her, so she’ll not be alone, but really, the selfless thing would be to do what she asked of him today. Her soul would be free, there would be no more Dracula to torment the world and kill innocents, and when Jonathan’s time came, he would join her in heaven.

But as I said before, the only thing that ever worries them about their relationship is whether or not they are hurt and when there is something keeping them apart. Jonathan goes to Transylvania and Dracula tries to keep him there: they both suffer from the distance. The first time Jonathan went to meet a client was the first time he and Mina were away from each other since the wedding, and she expresses anxiety about that. The men want to keep Mina away from vampire business to “protect her”: both her and Jonathan are unhappy with suddenly keeping secrets from each other. “A door is locked between them” because there is a part of Dracula inside Mina’s mind and she cannot be trusted to know all their planning, and Jonathan is crestfallen about it. Their deepest source of misery is always not being with each other, not being able to communicate properly, not just be together. And they both know that. Mina is just severely underestimating how far Jonathan would go so they’re not separated. As it is, she knows her death would bring him terrible grief, and by asking the help of their friends today and making him read the burial service, she’s trying to both a) Guarantee that should Jonathan’s hand falter, more steady ones would fulfil her wish; b) Unite them once more in the care they all have for her and show Jonathan that, should the worst happen, he won’t be alone. The other will be there. He shall not be so lonely if/when he becomes a widower; c) Perhaps by reading the burial service he can become more used to the possibility of her death and ease his heart to the matter.

However, Jonathan promises nothing to anyone. He asked for Jack to make an accurate description of what happened so that no detail would be left out, and yet we hear no word of confirmation from him.

And I’m sure she noticed it, too.

[pwinkprincess]

some random girl flirting with playboy satoru and bunni thinking he’s cheating on her :(

her outfit ^_^

you could feel your heart breaking into two as you watched the scene unfold. she was giggling and gripping on satoru’s forearms and the way she looked up at him, as if she was absolutely enamored with him. your eyes zeroed in on her almond shaped nails that were painted with black and red, she came dressed as a cop. her outfit hugged her, though, her button up shirt clung onto her torso and it seems she purposely left the top button unbuttoned so that her boobs could be ogled at. her shorts squeezed her thighs and hips, with every step she took her hips swayed. she exuded a level of confidence that you would possibly never accomplish.

 she was touching on your toru. your bottom lip wobbles even more when you realize he is allowing her to touch him. there’s a smile on his fake bloody lips, his faux canines peek out every time she makes him laughs. you had stepped away for a second to go use the bathroom and you came back to some girl in your seat and chatting it up with satoru. waves of jealousy and insecurity consume your body. 

you breathe heavily through your nose, trying to remind yourself to not cry. with hesitant steps, you walk to where you previously sat. satoru immediately stops talking to the girl to look at you, when he saw that teary eyed expression on your face he was quick to pull at your arm.

“what’s wrong?” he asks.

 you pull your arm out of his hold and snatch your purse that sat on his lap. you could feel the girl's eyes burning a hole into the side of your head, you refuse to look at her. she could have him if she wanted him so bad. you ignore satoru’s calls out to you. you’re pushing past people, some of the partiers throw you scowls while others vocally express their distaste. you ignore it all. 

“bunny, turn the fuck around.” satoru is desperately following behind you. he could’ve easily grabbed you by your arm and turned you around but he wanted you to do it on your own. 

you continue to ignore him, your heels clack with every angry stomp you took. you didn’t even know where you were going. choso had booked a house for this halloween party, it’s quite spacious and full of rooms. satoru had brought you with him a couple of days prior to the halloween party, so that you could help decorate. he figured you would’ve been into it and you were, when choso tasked you with decorating mainly the living room, you were practically beaming. you were so wrapped up with decorating you didn’t take time to understand where different halls led to.

with blurry eyes, you managed to walk yourself outside. the texture shifted from wood floors to brick. you had walked into the patio of the house. strings of fairy lights hung around the pillars, delivering you some light to walk through. 

satoru finally got enough of being ignored and grabbed you by your wrist. “do you not hear me?!” his eyes that were hidden with red eye contacts look down at you. 

you don’t say anything to him, only turning your head so that he couldn’t see you crying. 

“talk.” he demanded. 

you shake your head no, sparse tears drip down even faster. you continue to look away from him, choosing to look at the dark wood that wrapped around the backyard.

with an angry sigh he releases his grip on your wrist and instead grabs your jaw. he forces your head to tilt, you have no choice but to look into his concerned eyes. 

“talk.” he repeats himself.

“y-you don’t like me anymore.” as the word ‘anymore’ utters from your mouth you break down into heavier tears. you try to fight your head from his grasp, satoru doesn’t let you, though. he instead, wraps his arms around you dwarfing you with his size.

you sob into his arms. the smell of his cologne is intoxicating, he smells so good. maybe that’s what drew that girl to him. 

“bunny, i dunno what’s makin’ you talk like this. but don’t believe that shit. ‘kay?” he’s rocking you from side to side, in futile attempts to get you to calm down.

“i s-saw you and her.” you sniffle.

“babygirl, stop talking crazy. i still like you. ‘m gonna always like you. you’re lettin’ those mean thoughts get allll into your head and tell you lies.” he reassures you. 

“so w-why did you let her t-touch you?” you’re getting tears and snot all over his costume which makes you cringe but satoru is too warm to pull away. besides, with the way he’s holding you, you couldn’t get away even if you wanted to.

“i一i really don’t know, bun. if i knew it was gonna upset you this much i wouldn’t have.” 

“hm.” you pout. there are still tears leaking but you’re not sobbing anymore, at least.

“can we go back now?” he asks after letting you bask in a moment of silence. 

“don’t wanna go back.” you mumble into his shirt.

“you have t’speak up, bun. i can’t hear you when you’re mumbling.” he’s leaning his head on top of your head now. his body still sways the two of you, he hopes that it's calming you down.

“don’t wanna go back, toru.” you say louder and clearer.

“where d’you wanna go then?” he asks.

“wanna stay out here. jus’ us two.” you tell him. your arms are now wrapped around his waist and you’re swaying with him.

“‘kay, bun. whatever you want. no more cryin’ though. you look too pretty t'cry.” he’s leaning back a little, with just enough space to place a kiss on your forehead before pulling you back close to him.

[perfectsunlight]

[04] NEW BEST FRIEND

warnings: none

AUGUST 2028

jane ivory kim rarely got upset. but when she did, it was always for a good reason.

“i’m not going.” the teenager shook her head in disbelief. jieun sighed sympathetically, knowing she had no control in the current matter, but still wanting nothing more than for her granddaughter to be happy.

“jane,” jieun said softly as she gently reached and put a hand on the other girl’s knee. “it’s what your mother wants.”

cat-like eyes flashed with frustration and almost utter annoyance. “but she doesn’t even know what i want. she barely knows anything about my life. all my friends are going to apgujeong high school, and she wants to ship me off to some snobby all-girls school?”

jieun knew that the only thing to cause the docile girl to become irate was her mother.

her heart ached at the truth in her granddaughter’s words. she didn’t entirely support jennie’s decision, but she knew that she had no say in it otherwise. “i know, sweetheart. but your mother thinks this school will offer you the best opportunities.”

ivory clenched her fists, her knuckles turning the same shade of her name. “opportunities for what? to be alone? to be around girls who don’t care about anything but money? if that woman likes it so much, she should go herself.”

the older woman’s shoulders deflated. recently, the teenager had been referring to her mother as anything but her mother. as inherently rude as it was, jieun couldn’t argue against jane’s choice.

“it’s an international school, maybe it'll be good for you to meet some new people.” jieun suggested, trying to find a positive note. ivory’s shoulders slumped forward, knowing she couldn’t argue with her grandmother for something that wasn’t in her control.

“are the uniforms pretty at least?” 

—

jieun descended from the stairs to see her granddaughter tightening her necktie. the uniforms were very elegant, and the older woman couldn’t help but smile. “you look very intelligent.” ivory shifted her gaze from the living room mirror to her grandmother. she shot the woman a playful eye roll before adjusting her blazer. it was navy blue, tailored to fit perfectly and adorned with the school's emblem on the left breast pocket. the white blouse beneath was buttoned up neatly, the collar peeking out just above the blazer’s lapel. her pleated skirt, also navy blue, fell just above her knees, paired with white socks and polished black shoes.

she tugged at the hem of her skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. “at least it’s comfortable,” she remarked, trying to find a silver lining.

jieun smiled, stepping closer to adjust a stray strand of hair behind ivory’s ear. “you look beautiful, sweetheart. you’ll do great.”

the teenager gave a small nod, glancing back at her reflection. the uniform was indeed elegant and gave her a polished appearance, but it also felt like a costume she had to wear to fit into a role she didn’t choose.

with a deep breath, she picked up her school bag, its weight a reminder of the day ahead. “i guess i better get going,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

jieun’s eyes softened with understanding. “are you sure you don’t want your mother to give you a ride?” jane quickly shook her head with a smile. the only reason the older woman asked was because she and jennie were going to paris for fashion week. 

and although a ride to school would be nice, jane felt that keeping her pride was the better option.

“enjoy your vacation, grandma.”

—

the walk to school was only 20 minutes, but each step felt like an eternity. however, upon approaching the school’s front gates, it was evident that the world she was stepping into was one she’d never truly been in.

sure, her family had money. but jane liked normal things. she liked her normal friends and her normal life without the pressure of her mother’s status. as she walked through the pristine, manicured grounds of her new school, she felt a pang of longing for the simplicity she had left behind.

inside the main hall, echoes of footsteps and snippets of conversation bounced off the walls. some spoke of their parent’s cars, others mentioned their latest vacation, and some were simply taking pictures with their friends. 

the brunette almost bumped into a few girls who were clearly rushing to get to their classes. she narrowly avoided collision, but still knew that she’d have to keep her eyes up because it still was the first day.

her classes went by slowly, and even though jane didn’t speak more than four words in the past four hours, she was already sick of it here. lunch time was her chance to finally have a moment to herself. she scanned the dining hall, glancing at the obvious cliques at each table.

naturally, she decided to check the bathroom to see if it was empty. 

unfortunately, she was met with a group of girls taking photos and the smell of cigarettes. one of the taller girls looked over at jane with a confused look. “do you need something?” she asked while her friends whispered to each other. 

“who the hell is that?”

ivory opened her mouth to say something in return, however she knew better than to entertain such antics. she quickly bowed and mumbled an apology before quickly leaving.

she was making her way to check outside when suddenly, a girl hurrying in the opposite direction collided with her, causing jane to stumble backward. the girl's water bottle slipped from her hand and splashed across jane's chest.

“sorry!” the girl exclaimed while still running in the opposite direction. the younger girl sighed, trying to maintain her composure despite the cold water seeping through her uniform. “seriously,” she muttered, though her tone betrayed a hint of frustration. she wiped at the damp spots on her blazer with her sleeve, trying to salvage what she could.

she could hear the small snickers of her peers around her, but the idol’s daughter decided to simply ignore it. jane wandered outside, rubbing the back of her neck and taking a seat on the steps to the entrance.

the sun warmed her face, providing a brief respite from the cool dampness of her uniform. she closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

footsteps approached, and jane opened her eyes to see a taller girl with a kind smile standing in front of her. she had a gentle demeanor, her eyes curious yet empathetic.

“rough day?” the girl asked, sitting down beside jane on the steps without waiting for an invitation.

jane managed a small smile, appreciating the small conversation. “you could say that,” she replied, glancing down at her slightly damp blazer.

the taller girl’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “new here?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. jane simply nodded, feeling a sense of relief at this new friendly demeanor. “yeah, just started today,” she admitted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

the ravenette nodded understandingly. “well, welcome to the academy,” she said warmly. “there’s good things here, i promise.”

jane chuckled softly, appreciating this attempt to lighten the mood. “good to know,” she replied. the stranger turned to rummage through her bag before handing jane some tissues. “here, this might help.”

jane accepted the tissues with a grateful smile, touched by the thoughtful gesture. she dabbed at the remaining damp spots on her blazer, feeling a bit more composed now. the sun overhead cast a warm glow, and the quiet chatter of students around them created a soothing backdrop.

“thank you,” jane said sincerely, meeting her eyes. “you really didn't have to do that.”

the other girl waved off her gratitude with a smile. “it's no problem at all. we've all been there, right?”

ivory nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the girl despite just meeting her. “yeah, i guess so,” she admitted, realizing she felt more at ease talking to her than she had with most people at the academy so far.

“so, where are you from?” the other girl asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

jane hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to share. she had always been cautious about revealing too much, especially about her background.

“seoul,” jane replied finally, deciding to keep it vague. “what about you?”

the stranger smiled, seemingly content with the answer. “same. what program are you in?”

“music.” ivory smiled as she watched the other girl’s face light up. “really? me too! we’ll definitely have classes together then.”

“oh i almost forgot,” the stranger continued before she rummaged through her bag again. she pulled out a roll of kimbap. “here, you must be hungry. don’t worry, i made extra.” 

jane’s smile widened at the sight of the food. she took it gratefully, mentally reminding herself to pack her own snacks next time. “thank you. i’ll bring you something tomorrow.”

the taller girl grinned warmly as jane accepted the roll of kimbap, her eyes crinkling with genuine friendliness. “you're welcome! i hope you like it,” she said cheerfully, clearly pleased to have made a small gesture of kindness.

jane nodded appreciatively, unwrapping the food and taking a bite. the flavors of the seasoned rice, vegetables, and savory filling were comforting and satisfying. “mmm, this is really good,” she complimented, impressed by her new friend’s culinary skills.

the other girl beamed at the praise. “i'm glad you think so! i'll definitely look forward to what you bring tomorrow,” she replied, her tone light and friendly.

after finishing lunch, jane glanced at the stranger with a grateful smile. “thanks again for the food and for being so nice to me. it means a lot,” she admitted softly, touched by this stranger’s kindness.

the ravenette waved off her gratitude with a gentle laugh. “of course! it's nice to have someone new to talk to,” she said warmly. “oh, i should’ve asked for your name.”

jane chuckled and stuck her hand out for the other girl to take. she had a feeling this would be the start of a genuine friendship.

“i’m jane, nice to meet you.” the girl  took her hand and shook it firmly, eyes still beaming with excitement. she also felt like she was about to make a new best friend.

“eunchae. hong eunchae.”

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OPEN! COMMENT BELOW THE MASTERLIST TO BE ADDED

[cecilebutcher]

Eᴀᴠᴇsᴅʀᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ

!!Likes do nothing, Reblog instead!!

Summary: you eavesdrop on your boyfriend. (Vil, Malleus)

Warning: swearing, stress, Malleus being too pure for the world.

For: @boopshoops

Word count: 1.6k

V.Shoenhiet

Being in a relationship with the Vil Shoenheit was all fun and games.

Until he starts working.

While yes, you adore the blonde and he’s an amazing boyfriend.

when he has work he suddenly forgets that there are people around him

And that meant he tended to ignore everything and everyone around him for the sake of utter perfection in his performance.

And while you do understand how important this is to him. (And you by extension)

Sometimes you wished he’d just drop his work and go back to normal.

This was one of those instances.

It’s been around a week since Vil started shooting for his new movie. And while at first you were extremely excited for him and even more happy, right now you were extremely annoyed at the beautiful blonde.

Currently you were sat at the Pomefiore lounge waiting for Epel so the two of you could finally go out after what feels like years of you waiting for the short male. “Bonjour Trickster!” The sudden voice made you jump a bit, and the face didn’t make you feel all that comfortable either.

“Hey Rook, what’s up?” You asked the blonde smiling down at you “anything entreating going on with you today?” He sighed as he took a seat next to you on the comfy purple coach “non, I’m just worried for Roi du poison” that managed to catch your attention.

Rook, being Rook, noticed the concern on your pretty features “Trickster��� He said as he looked at you “would you do me a small favor and check on Roi du poison?” Not even a second after he had asked, you were already on your feet heading towards the houswardens room.

You were practically running through the halls of the castle like dorm, trying to get to your lover as fast as you could. Soon you arrived to his room, and before you knocked you heard his angelic voice from behind it.

“I get that I have a shoot this weekend, but you have to understand I have other priorities” you drive in your place, he was obviously talking on the phone. On one hand you could knock the door, which means he’ll have to end the phone call. And on the other, you could just leave and come back in a bit.

Instead of choosing A or B you decided on C, listen in on his phone call. You placed your ear to the door and waited patiently. After a bit he started talking again. “No I don’t want to loose the job, but I’ve been neglecting my duties as a housewarden and student….. yes it is important, I have to be a role model to the other students……. No…. No I get it but”

He let out a sigh, and annoyed and tired sigh “listen, just give me this weekend off, I’ll get my housewarden and student duties over with and come in next week…. Yes…. Yes I promise” anger pulsed through you. Vil was a sweetheart who cared deeply about both his dorm mates and his studies, and now here comes work keeping him from both these things.

You wanted to barge in there, snatch the phone from his hands, and yell at whoever he was on the phone with. You hated when people decided to tell Vil what to do. Yes they were technically his bosses, but still!! Vil deserves to get breaks so he can live his life as a teenager!

Just as you were about to actually barge in, someone grabbed your arm and yanks you away. That someone was none other then your oh so beloved friend Epel Feilmer. “What are you doing?!” He yelled/whispered out at you “If Vil finds out you’re eavedropping/“ “He won’t do anything!” You yelled/whispered back. “Listen, I’m just worried about him ok?” The purple haired let out a sigh before saying “I know I know” his accent returned “I’m worried about Vil as well, but you have to let him be alright?”

You nodded with an annoyed frown “now come on, we’ll buy some gifts for him while we’re out to make him feel better” you said a quiet ‘ok’ as you started to follow him, after giving a last glance at the wooden dorm room door. You took out your phone and sent him a small ‘Love you<3’ text and left.

All you knew in that moment, is that once iou come back you’ll spoil the fuck out of your boyfriend and dote on him till he dies from love and affection.

M.Draconia

Malleus Draconia.

How you managed to date the Malleus Droconia, Prince of fae, you will never know.

But even thought people say he’s terrifying (which you thought was stupid, he’s literally just so cute)

He’s a wonderful boyfriend.

He’s kind, caring.

And fucking badass.

So you did what anyone with common sense did, and decided to surprise him with home made ice cream.

It took you ages to find the right ingredients for the salted caramel ice cream you were making, and took you even longer to make the ice cream. But the end results were amazing.

Currently you were headed to the Diasomnia dorm with the container in your arms. Once the dark castle was in view you took a deep breath and walked towards in. Once inside you were greeted by the sight of Sebek lecturing Silver while the older male dozed off.

“Hi guys!” The two turned to look at you, Silver smiling and Sebek with his ever lasting scowl “Hey mc, what are you doing here?” Asked the silver haired male “I’m here to see Malleus!! I have something for him if that’s ok” you replied with a smile.

“The young master is busy right now it’s Lilia, it’s best to come back later” Sebek crossed his arms as he spoke. Silver just gave you a ‘you know how he is’ look about Sebek and flopped down on the couch besides him “or you can just wait”

You nodded at them before quickly going to the kitchen and placing the ice cream inside so it wouldn’t melt while you waited for your lover. Once back at the common room you were glad to see Sebek no longer annoying the poor boy and instead on the couch next to him tapping away at his phone while Silver slept peacefully. You sat down next to the sleeping sophomore and waited.

After what felt like years, but according to Sebek only 30 minutes, you were bored and extremely tired of waiting.

So you decided to do what any other sane person would do in this situation, and barge into the crown prince of briar valleys room.

After getting your oh so amazing ice cream, you started going up the countless stairs of the Diasomnia dorm. After countless hallways you were finally able to find the large door belonging to the Diasomnia housewardens room.

Before you were able to knock on the door, signifying that you wanted to enter you heard the oh so majestic voice of your beloved boyfriend talking to his oh so wonderful father and mentor, Lilia. Against your better judgement you decided to place your ear to the door and listen in, mostly simply to hear Malleus’ voice.

“Are you sure that would suffice Lilia?” A smile appeared on your face as your beloved boyfriend’s voice came through the closed door, even if it was muffled a bit “Maybe the child of man would like something more? A diamond necklace or a ruby bracelet perhaps?” You could hear Lilia’s sigh. A sigh he let out meaning ‘you truly are stupid’

“Malleus. Mc wouldn’t care weather you bought them 30 pure diamonds and pearls or picked up a flower for a garden for them. Trust me, what you have is more than enough” you smiled fondly at the thought of him bringing you something. Knowing malleus it could range from a tiny rock in a shape of a heart, or an actual castle just for you.

Before you could hear more and ruin whatever surprise the fae had prepared you, you knocked on the door. The two stopped talking, and a few seconds later the door opened to show the gorgeous face of your beloved. “Oh, Child of man! What can I help you with my dear?” He greeted, his eyes going soft as a smile of adoration appeared on his lips.

You held out the container and spoke “I made you ice cream! It’s salted Carmel flavored” somehow, the smile grew softer as love filled Maleus’s eyes. He took the container from your hand and placed a free hand on the back of your head, bringing it closer before planting a gentle kiss atop your locks.

“Thank you dearest, it means the world to me that you brought me this” you gladly returned the smile before quickly planting a kiss on his cheek “I need to run, But come by later ok?” You said as you started to walk away “we can make ice cream sandwiches together!” You disappeared from his sight before he even had a chance but to reply to you.

But you knew he’d come. He always does. No matter what if you called he’ll be there in less than a minute. And you loved him so much for that. As you walked towards the staircase leading to the dark room lounge, you wondered what exactly had Lilia and Malleus discussed.

Whatever it was, all you knew that Lilia was correct. As long as it came from Malleus, you would cherish it even after death.

Ahhhh I really hope you liked this!! I know it’s nothing compared to the amazing drawing you drew but I tried to make this good<33

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don't like, reblog.

Likes<<< reblogs.

[sxfwap]

Romancing the Princess of Hearts || Chapter 1: Same Old Feeling

Chapter 2 —>

Pairing: Bridget (Descendants) X Reader

Summary: Ever since you’ve been transferred to The Merlin Academy you’ve had a crush on the Princess of Wonderland herself, who you quickly became best friends with.

Of course, she doesn’t know and you weren’t brave enough to tell her either… but how much time could you keep such feelings to yourself?

Word count: 1856

Warnings: None, just straight up fluff!!! (Bc I live laugh love it)

You were walking around the courtyard of the Merlin Academy, accompanied by your two best friends Bridget and Ella, enjoying the day by chatting with them.

“Alright guys, I need to go now. I did promise that ‘charming’ guy that I was going to help him out with his homework.” Ella said reluctantly, rolling her eyes as if to emphasize her annoyance.

“If by ‘homework’ you mean subtly flirting with one another, then go ahead my dearest friend.” You teased and after seeing Ella’s face reddened you burst out laughing, Bridget joining in.

“We do not–”

“Don’t you dare keep him waiting, El! Go on now!” Bridget commented, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture while sporting a grin of her own, earning a glare from the blue haired.

“So, so, serious… what do you think Charming will say when he sees you like that?” You couldn’t help but annoy her once again. After all, her flustering (to comments about the guy she has absolutely zero feelings for) and a certain princess’s laugh were worth it.

“I’m so done with you two– you especially, Y/n.” Ella remarked, pointing a finger at you. “I’ll see you later!” She said, leaving both you and Bridget on your own.

You were about to make a retort, when you heard from your side that someone cleared their throat.

“So, Y/n, I’ve been wondering… Castlecoming is only a few days away, isn’t it amazing?!” Bridget exclaimed, her face brighting with happiness as a beaming smile broke onto her soft face.

“This will be my first time attending it since I’ve been transferred here, so I’m very curious to see it with my very own eyes.” You teased, to which Bridget blushed slightly. After all, both Bridget and Ella (Bridget mostly) have been talking nonstop about how wonderful and how big of an event this one was. “I still don’t have a date though.”

“Me neither.” Bridget declared with a small frown. “That makes me think however, would you… would you want to go with… me?” She asked, hopeful, though her expressive brown eyes were giving away her own nervousness.

“Are you serious, B?”

“I have never been more serious in my life!” She uttered out, and you couldn’t believe just how adorable she was being.

“Of course! I’d love to go with you!”

“Wonderful!” She said as she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, to which you of course returned. “If it means anything…” she pulled out, but still having you by arm’s length. “I–I have been wanting to ask you for quite some time now.”

“And… why’s that?” You asked, looking as her cheeks turned red once more, biting her lower lip.

“I…” Bridget stammered.

“You…?” You tried to get her to answer when suddenly, a distant voice hit your ears. You looked around yourself discreetly, noticing that it was just you and your best friend, surely it was a product of your imagination.

“I love you!” Bridget blurted out, shutting her eyes tightly as if to protect herself from the inevitable rejection that would be coming from you. Or so she thought.

“Y/n.” The voice spoke once more, this time, you could catch it was calling out to you.

You decided to ignore it however, because for sure you couldn’t believe that finally, finally it was happening. Bridget, the princess of Wonderland, who you had have a crush on since your firsts days in the Academy has just told you she loves you! You even thought she was very brave (more than you at least) in choosing to express her feelings.

Truly a dream come true.

Your hands found their ways to Bridget’s cheeks, cupping her dearly face gently. “Could you open your eyes for me, B?”

Reluctantly, Bridget opened them up, her own hands coming up to her face to be atop yours. “Yes…?”

“I… love you too, Bridget.” Your smile reached your ears, noticing the way her face lightened up, it gave you courage to continue. “I have been… for quite some time, actually.”

“Y/n?” That voice. Again. Although this time, you could recognize its sweet yet worrying tone. And wait, were you shaking?

No, you wouldn’t let anyone or anything take away what you have been waiting for as long as you have. Even if this ‘voice’ had a certain resemblance.

“Are you okay, cupcake?” Bridget asked in a worrisome way, lowering both your hands down, still holding them tightly.

“Cupcake?” You blushed at the sudden use of the nickname. Weird. You’ve never heard her call anyone anything like that.

“Perhaps I have the recipe to make you feel better.” She smiled shyly.

“Recipe?”

Bridget smiled once more, before slowly, almost carefully, leaning into you. Her eyes shutting down as the proximity between you kept closing in.

No way this was happening, no way! Bridget not only asked you to be her date to Castlecoming, but has also confessed her love for you and now she wanted to kiss you? In the same day? There’s no way you could be this lucky.

There’s no way this is real.

“Y/n!”

Your eyes opened up quickly, perhaps too quickly as now the brightness of the room hit you hard. The hands that were positioned on your shoulders letting go.

“Finally! Oh, are you alright? I’ve never seen you sleep so soundly!” A sweet-toned worriedly voice asked. Except, this was not any sweet-toned voice this was the voice.

“Bridget?!” Your brain finally was starting to wake up as you took a look around your surroundings in a still somewhat sleepy state and sure enough, you were in your room, in your bed and no one other than the Princess of Wonderland herself was hovering over you. But what was Bridget doing here? “W–What are you doing here? And how did you get in? You’ve seen me sleep before?!”

The pink voluminous haired girl’s cheeks reddened at your questions, before standing up to give you some space. “W–Well… we are supposed to go together to professor Merlin’s class, but you weren’t answering the door!” She defended herself with a pout. It was true though, since both you, her and Ella got to share this class together, you decided to just go together as a group. “I was worried sick about you!” She confessed, her words coming out of her mouth in a concerned manner.

But then again, why was Bridget alone waiting for you? If Ella wasn’t here could that mean that…

“Wait… are we… are we running late?!” You cried out, choosing to ignore, or rather said, save her last few words to dwell on another time.

── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ──

After a few more minutes of you changing into whatever clothes you could find (though Bridget still called your outfit cute), you both finally set off to class.

And it just so happens that Bridget couldn’t keep her hands—or rather said arms to herself as she had to link it with yours. Not that it bothered you in any way, but rather that after growing a massive crush on her and having such a dream, it made you blush.

The classroom door slammed open.

“Oh, fantastic! I was beginning to think you were not going to show up Bridget, Y/n.” Professor Merlin said, turning around from whatever it was that he was doing, smiling kindly. Inevitably, this made you both the center of attention to the rest of the class.

Gods, why did teachers always have to call out their students like that?

An embarrassing blush made its way to your face yet again. What a way to start the day.

Looking to the side of the classroom you spotted Ella sitting with no one other than Prince Charming himself. You made a quick mental note to bother her about it once class ended.

“Good morning, professor!” Bridget greeted, her own cheeks slightly taking in color, quickly moving to the closest desk with you in tow.

“Alright class, now that we’re all here, we can continue on where we left off last week…” Professor Merlin continued on, talking about this certain potion that you really should have paid more attention to.

“Y/n, could you pass me the griffin claw, please? I’ve got to stir this up.” Bridget asked, pointing to it with a smile. Right, thankfully she was here.

You watched as she started to stir the ingredients in the cauldron, and you rapidly grabbed a flask to throw into the mix too.

You gave a quick glance to the girl at your side. “So… are you going to tell me how in the name of Merlin did you break into my room?” You questioned.

“I didn’t break into your room!” Bridget whispered-yelled, but upon seeing your smirk, she knew you weren’t mad at her for it. With a small smile, she looked down as she continued stirring the potion. “And as I already told you, you weren’t answering. I knocked three times even.”

“Hmm…” You squinted your eyes looking at her with a fake suspicion look. “And am I supposed to take that as an answer?”

“Why, of course!” She smiled widely in an innocent manner.

“Sure, sure, keep evading the question all you want but I will find out about it, princess.”

“It was for your own good. Oh! That makes me wonder, were you having a dream– or was it a nightmare? That’s why you couldn’t wake up, right? Were you having a sleep paralysis?!” Bridget rambled on, her face taking in a worried expression.

A sudden ‘shh!’ could be heard from the front as you both turned to look at Professor Merlin giving you a warning look. Or as ‘warning’ as he could, given that he wasn’t that much of a serious teacher and he knew you both were good students.

“What? No, Gods, no.” You laughed slightly at her implications. “Don’t worry about it, B. It was nothing like that.”

Bridget sighed, content to know that at least you weren’t in a bad situation. “So, it was a dream.” She summarized, glancing at your form from the corner of her eyes.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, debating on how much you were going to tell her, because surely you wouldn’t lie to her. Bridget took the opportunity to add a few more ingredients into the cauldron.

“Maybe.”

Is it considered a lie if you’re giving a half averting answer?

“Who’s evading the question now, hmm?” The pink haired smirked.

And Gods, how that smirk made your already fast beating heart want to get out of your ribcage and shout to the entire world how much you loved her.

If only.

Already lost in the beauty of your friend, you failed to notice how one pair of eyes seemed to be looking at you both, rolling her eyes at your– as she had properly phrased it– obvious love-struck staring.

And failed to notice your dear professor coming up.

“We’re done, professor!” Bridget said, loudly enough for you to take in your surroundings. You blinked a few times, looking at your professor with a smile of your own.

A/N: SOOO I wasn’t planning on watching the movie in the first place, but my fyp started flooding with Bridget edits and I fell in love and here we are! 👹👹 her and redcharming saved that movie frfr

I posted the first 2 chapters on ao3 with my user LostInCrushes and I thought why not post it here too? So here we are! I’ll post chapter 2 tomorrow to have it on my tumbrl as well and also I’m working on part 3 right now! Which will most likely be the longest chapter (for now at least) and that’s why it’s taking me the longest to set up SO I APOLOGIZE 😭😭

English is not my first language so feel free to correct any mistake or give me a piece of advice or criticism on my writing style!

Thank you so much for reading!!! 🩷🩷🩷

[say-al0e]

Finally

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: You have a rule; don’t pursue any of the other regulars at your favorite bar. Rooster is a regular and one night, makes you question why you ever thought that rule was a good idea.

Warnings: Protected PinV, oral (fem rec), drinking, consent is hot, pre-TGM (set in VB). (Anything else, just let me know and I can tag it)

Pairing: Rooster x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

The little dive a few blocks away from your apartment had long since turned into something of a second home for you and your friends. Most Saturdays - if none of the girls had made more pressing pans - found you seated around a table near the door, empty glasses littering the sticky surface as you all decompressed after a stressful week. There was cheap alcohol, greasy food that was decent enough, and rarely any crowds.

Unlike other bars in the area, most of the people who filled seats on Saturday nights were your run of the mill regulars. Though the vast majority of bars in the area - new and old - seemed to cater to the large and ever-growing Naval population, the little dive never seemed to attract any particular clientele. 

There always seemed to be an interesting mixture of regulars scattered about each weekend. The ones you saw most were the small group of college students - eager to flash their new, real (they swore) IDs - a few couples, a few loners who drank quietly at the bar, and a group of, in the words of your friends, obscenely handsome men.

That description wasn’t wrong, the group was obscenely handsome, but you did your best not to stare. The bar was your safe haven, a refuge from the offense of a rough week, just as you assumed it was theirs. As such, you thought it best not to pursue any of them.

Things could get messy - the bartender had slept with a handful of one-time regulars who had since stopped appearing - and losing your favorite bar to a night that may or may not be worth it was the last thing you wanted. Avoiding them seemed practical, however, just because you decided that you shouldn’t didn’t mean you didn’t want to.

The group of men was never loud, no more so than any of the rest of the patrons in the bar, but there were moments of light that showcased their personalities. Their voices tended to carry on slower nights, when it seemed to be just your group and theirs, and you’d gotten to know a fair deal about them.

The most revolutionary piece oof information you’d gleaned from their conversations was that the one they called Rooster was the one who’d caught your eye.

Rooster - whose real name you never heard uttered by any of his companions - was at the bar most weekends. He was one of the quieter members of the group, usually choosing songs at the old jukebox in the corner and grinning as he nodded along, but never failed to laugh when the group lobbed half-hearted taunts his way. 

There was a boyish charm about him, despite his size and relative quiet, and it did nothing but make you wonder.

If anyone asked, you’d argue that the duality of him was what drew you in. He was easily among the tallest men in the bar at any given time, with broad shoulders and defined biceps. There were a handful of scars smattered across his skin and, every so often, a handful of bruises to accompany them.

The men he ventured into the bar were so obviously Navy, even without the uniforms but Rooster carried himself easily. The rigidity you’d come to expect from soldiers, pilots, and sailors - living so close to the largest Naval base in the world gave you plenty of experience with them - was missing entirely, replaced by gaudy Hawaiian shirts and a playful smile, and that was that.

Somehow, in only a matter of months, Rooster managed to capture your attention and kept you coming back for more, week after week.

Everyone seemed to notice.

Both sets of friends - yours and his - wagged eyebrows and snickered whenever your paths managed to cross. Endless amounts of whispering, begging you just to say hello to him, plagued you nearly every weekend and if you glanced at his table, you assumed he was being given the same treatment.

It seemed impossible that he wasn’t, given you seemed to have caught his eye, too.

Night after night, piercing brown eyes met yours across the bar. A soft smile, hidden beneath a mustache you would’ve deemed ridiculous on anyone else, was sure to accompany the warm gaze and, despite yourself, you’d grown to anticipate the shared glances.

That gaze, those eyes glittering even in the dim light of the bar, was the highlight of your night. That night was no exception.

Each time you took a cursory glance around the bar - gaze sweeping over the sticky bar top, the bright jukebox, the worn pool table, the wall covered in stickers and patches and signatures from patrons past - you always seemed to find your way back to him.

Over the course of the night, glances were exchanged - sidelong, flirty, curious - more frequently than ever. It reminded you that there’d always been something stopping you from taking him home.

The desire to keep yourself, and him, from losing your second home for a night that had no guarantee; the determination to avoid your friends’ knowing smiles and fond teasing, no matter how deserved; the desperation to keep from making a mistake by taking him home, even if it turned out to be a beautiful one.

Thoughts of what could happen - the bad, the good, the indifferent - plagued you each time you shared a glance with Rooster. As your friends sipped beer and wine and giggled about their respective partners, you allowed yourself to wonder.

There was no guarantee attached to a night spent with Rooster, however, there could be a future there. The happily ever after you quietly longed for, wrapped in an awfully tacky Hawaiian shirt and a mustache straight out of 1986, could await you. One night with him could lead to a future that saw your group of friends and his sharing a table and laughing over how long you danced around one another.

Alternatively, it could become a fond memory. There was no guarantee the intrigue you felt would last more than a night. It could end with an understanding that you were not meant to be and knowing looks shared in passing, never speaking of the night but silently agreeing to cohabitate in peace.

The worst option was the one that gave you pause. There could be heartache in a night spent with Rooster, hidden behind pretty smiles and soft eyes. The night could lead to a future in which the sight of those eyes would render you unable to step foot in your favorite bar. It could end in disappointment or hurt and that was the last thing you wanted for either of you.

Each scenario was one you’d considered at least a dozen times. Some nights, you spent the entirety of your time in the bar questioning ‘what-if’. It was why you’d avoided speaking to him, why you never allowed the glances to linger too long or the teasing from your friends to spur you into action, but something shifted.

That night, instead of allowing the negativity to take root, an unfamiliar determination took hold.

Three weeks had passed since you last saw him. During those three weeks, you wondered if he’d been sent elsewhere and you’d missed your chance. Upon realizing how devastated the thought made you, you decided that he was worth it. Regardless of what happened, you wanted to at least take that first chance.

Rooster seemed to feel the same.

There was a promise hidden in the warmth of his eyes - ask and I’ll follow, you won’t regret it - you’d never seen from him before. It had you lingering near the bar as your friends paid their tabs. You waited under the guise of patience, insisting you had nowhere to be the following day and knew they all had plans, but, really, you weren’t sure you wanted them to see you willingly offer yourself up to the man they’d been teasing you about for months.

Nothing about it was shameful, you knew that. Your friends had gone home with or taken home their fair share of partners - soldiers, sailors, pilots, baristas, musicians, artists, finance bros; you name it, they’ve slipped out of a bar with them, uttering a promise to share details upon next meeting - but this felt different.

Rooster felt different.

That thought would likely make you laugh later on - depending on the outcome of the night - but you were confident as he followed your lead.

As his friends paid their tabs, each pointedly ignoring your presence - though you knew they saw you, felt their curious glances even as you paid them no mind - and laughing, he snuck glances. With each one, the world seemed to stop to a crawl around you.

The chatter of the bar faded into an indistinct hum, a song that no longer mattered playing in the background, just as the neon lights behind the bar blurred into shapeless splotches. Rooster settled into the space at your side as he waited and warmth radiated off of him, even through the fabric of his gaudy Hawaiian shirt. You only hoped that he didn’t notice the way your grip on the bar tightened in an effort to remain upright.

For a few long moments, you kept your eyes on the shelf of bottles behind the bar, struggling to read the labels that only moments ago had been completely comprehensible, and pointedly avoiding meeting his eyes in the mirror. However, when the last of his friends stepped out of the bar and into the cool night air, Rooster turned to you.

“Bradley,” he introduced, finally answering the question you’d been pondering for months, the moment you met his eyes. His mouth curved into a soft smile, eyes shimmering and bright despite the dim light of the bar, and you had to force yourself to take even breaths as he offered his hand in greeting.

Bradley’s voice, clearer than you’d ever heard it now that it was directed at you, and lower than expected, rang in your ears as he repeated your name. It sounded perfect, as if he’d uttered it a thousand times before, and it was almost startling how his touch simultaneously calmed and electrified your poor stuttering heart.

It was difficult to remember the last time anyone had made you feel this way - if anyone had ever made your feel this way - upon first meeting but you refused to dwell. That moment was all that mattered and, for once, you were ready to take the night in stride.

With the weight of Bradley’s gaze sweeping over your skin, warm eyes roving the few expanses of exposed skin, heating you from within, little else seemed to exist beyond the present. There was no telling how long you stood, your hand clasped in his as you took the opportunity to study one another without the teasing of friends, before the moment was broken by the opening chords of Berlin’s Take My Breath Away.

Laughter, surprised but wholly amused, filled your ears as Bradley finally released your hand. “Fitting,” he teased, grinning as his gaze returned to meet yours. When you rolled your eyes, playful despite the heat rushing to your cheeks, Bradley’s grin only grew. “Are you heading out?”

“Was planning to, yeah,” you nodded with a brief glance toward the door. “Luckily, it’s a pretty short walk.”

Bradley copied the gesture, slow and understanding, as he searched your face for any hint that he’d gotten the wrong understanding. When he seemed to find none, he asked, “Let me walk you home?”At the raise of your brow, teasing, he shrugged. “It’s late,” he reasoned, “short walk or not.”

“Does the Navy encourage the buddy system or is that your attempt at chivalry?”

Despite the question, you gathered your bag and threw the bartender - who wore a knowing grin - a wave before turning to leave. Bradley waited just a moment, eager for your consent, and only followed when you tilted your head toward the door.

“What gave me away as Navy?”

The noise of the city hit you as you stepped out into the night - through a door held open by Bradley - but immediately faded into the background as he fell into step at your side. Just as you figured he would, he walked along the edge of the sidewalk closest to the street and turned to glance at you.

“I’ve lived in Virginia Beach for two years. There’s not much else you can be around here. Your friends are Navy so I put two and two together. ‘Sides, the call sign didn’t help,” you teased, grinning when he laughed and nodded his understanding. “Before we found out your friends were Navy, my guesses were either that, blue collar, or a former frat boy. But that could just be the Hawaiian shirts clouding my judgement.”

Bradley’s laughter was quiet, a little self-deprecating, but amused as he shook his head. He studied you for a moment, gaze sweeping your skin with a quiet intensity that made it difficult to keep yourself entirely together, before he turned his head to glance at the neighborhood surrounding you both. “You know, for those to be guesses, two out of three isn’t bad.”

For this to be the first time you’d actually gotten to speak to him, you found conversation with Bradley to be easier than you would’ve imagined. There was no hint of what you hoped the night would bring, only an easy banter that settled the erratic beating of your heart and calmed the nerves that prickled at your overheated skin. It reinforced the decision you were making and gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be a mistake.

“You were a frat boy? Let me guess, UVA or Tech. Unless you’re going to shock me and tell me you didn’t go to school in Virginia.”

With an easy grin, Bradley shook his head. “UVA,” he confirmed, eyes flickering to you. “You’re good. Are you always this right or am I just easy to read?” As you approached a crosswalk, Bradley took a moment to glance around at your surroundings before asking, “Which way?”

“Left at the light.” As you slowed to a stop, Bradley turned to focus the entirety of his attention on you. There was an honest curiosity there, eager to continue the conversation, and you were surprised at how willing he was to chatter on about nothing rather than rush you through the streets. “I went to UNC Chapel Hill. There are differences, obviously, but enough similarities that make it easier to see. Or maybe I just put on college-tinted goggles and never took them off. But even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

For a brief moment, the only noise was that of the city moving around you. The occasional car rushing past, the opening and closing of doors as you passed apartment buildings, the distant hum of conversations, but Bradley’s silence spoke the loudest. When you glanced at him, only to be met with a look of fond bemusement, you raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Instead of speaking, Bradley took a step closer and lifted his hand to cradle your cheek. As he leaned in, he paused for a moment to await your consent. Brown eyes swept yours, searching for any hesitance, and when he was met with a nod, he pressed his mouth to yours.

The kiss was softer than you expected, less an impatient clashing of teeth and lips and tongue and more of an eager glimpse into the coming night, and you were met with a quiet laugh as Bradley pulled away.

“I would apologize for not waiting,” he began, eyes shining even under the dim orange glow of the streetlight and not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “but I can’t. I’ve been thinking about doing that for a while.” He grinned then, honest and endearing, and you felt your chest begin to ache as his eyes darted back to your mouth. Bradley stood still for a moment, gaze sweeping your heated skin, before he took a half-step back. He remained closer than he had and smiled as you blinked at his honesty. “Left at the light?”

“Yeah.”

Stringing together a coherent line of thought proved difficult - more so than you imagined it would when you decided to embark on this endeavor - so you offered no protest as Bradley began to move in the direction of your apartment building. He kept close to your side and you struggled to keep from sparing him glances as you wandered down the sidewalk. 

When the entrance to your building grew clearer, you swallowed the nerves you’d never felt bringing anyone else home and tilted your head to look at him fully. “That’s me,” you pointed out, gesturing to the building looming ever closer. “D’you wanna come in?”

There was little doubt that you were on the same page, both interested in the same thing, but you wanted to be certain. 

“If you’ll have me,” he agreed readily, head turning to meet your eyes as you approached the entrance.

With a nod, you reached for his hand and tugged him through the breezeway. Bradley followed along, hand warm in yours, and flashed you a smile each time you shot him a glance. Nerves filled the pit of your stomach - excited and anxious, eager and hesitant - as you climbed the stairs to your apartment.

To your continued surprise - though you should have expected it at that point - Bradley waited for you to make the first move as the door to your apartment clicked shut. Though he remained close, his hand still clasped in yours and eyes sweeping your face for any sign of hesitance, he gave you the power in that moment.

“Is this… can I?” Though you weren’t quite sure what you were asking, Bradley seemed to understand. He dropped your hand and, instead, reached for your hip to tug you a half-step closer.

The weight of his palm pressed to your hip, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your top to brush at overheated skin, grounded you just enough to notice his hum of approval. In a moment of eagerness, you closed the gap and lifted a hand to the back of his neck to tug him forward.

This kiss, though just as pleasant as the first, was less patient. Though he gave you room to initiate, Bradley quickly took control of the kiss. He pressed himself impossibly closer, blanketed your body with his own as he stole your breath with each swipe of his tongue, and shuddered when you shifted your hand to rake through his hair.

In a flurry of movement, a little more frenzied than you’d expected but in no way deserving of a complaint, the outer layers of your clothes were shed in a heap near the couch. Bradley’s coat, tossed to the floor, followed by yours; your heels, kicked off near the hall closet, followed by his boots; there would be a trail for you both to follow upon his departure but, in that moment, nothing mattered outside of guiding him to your bed.

Warm hands caressed your skin, dipped beneath the fabric of your top and brushed the sensitive skin of your hips and stomach, as you tugged at soft brown locks. The pair of you stumbled down the hallway, Bradley eagerly helping you shed your clothes along the way, only for him to pull away from the kiss the moment you stepped into your room.

Those eyes - the ones that flickered to you every time you entered the bar, the ones that glittered even in the dim neon, the ones that captivated you from the very beginning - raked over your exposed skin and eagerly drank in the sight of you. Though your initial instinct was to hide, the cover yourself from his scrutiny, the sheer desire in the depth of his eyes left you unable to do more than allow him to have his fill.

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented, gaze lifting to meet yours as his hands gripped your hips.

There was no hint of dishonesty in his compliment, only an earnest honesty that made your skin heat and heart flutter. “You’re one to talk,” you hummed, lifting your hand to trace the slope of his cheek. “You’re really fucking pretty, Bradley.”

It was easy to see that he didn’t believe you - or, if he did, he would’ve downplayed the compliment entirely - but Bradley simply brushed it off and dipped his head to return his lips to yours.

The kiss he pulled you into was searing, warm and eager as he pressed you back toward your bed. There was little else that needed to be said as he nudged you to lie back and settle into the center of the bed.

Bradley was eager. When he slipped between your spread thighs, large hands gripping the supple flesh to hold you open for him, he surged forward with no hesitation. He nosed at the juncture of your thigh, pressed a blistering kiss to the top of your mound, before he licked into you with reckless abandon. There were no tentative flicks of his tongue, no bored swipes that indicated he was acting out of some kind of obligation. Instead, he swiped the flat of his tongue through your folds and lapped at you like a man starved.

In the back of your mind, you wondered - only briefly, before your thoughts were wiped completely by the press of his fingers to your clit - how much better sex with him would be if he were emotionally invested. It was already better than most you’d had with committed partners and from what you were beginning to learn about Bradley, you could only imagine emotional investment would give him room to ruin you for any future partner.

Though his size could be seen as imposing, he was careful to keep the press of his fingers into your skin balanced. There was enough pressure to feel, enough pressure to ensure reminders of his presence would be left in the morning, but not so much that it caused you real pain. When your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, he groaned openly as he pressed his face impossibly closer.

There was a charming eagerness to his desire, a willingness to give his entire self in the pursuit of your pleasure, and were it not for the insistent press of his fingers to your aching clit, your thoughts would’ve been sent careening down a dangerous road. Though you knew so little about him, you felt yourself growing increasingly attached and only hoped he would feel the same.

The press of his fingers, larger than your own and rough enough that you imagined he worked with his hands, had your stomach tightening and flames of unfettered arousal licking at your heated skin as you tugged at his hair. Bradley had yet to remove anything more than his jacket but as he pressed his fingers deeper, you imagined the preparation would be necessary.

One fear when deciding to take Bradley home was that you would be left wanting, forced to fake it and take care of yourself later, but that was abated by your fast-approaching release. It should’ve been embarrassing, just how quickly he was able to throw you over the edge, but your embarrassment was only drowned out by the awe at his ability to read you already.

“Bradley! I’m gonna -“ The cry of his name echoed in the quiet of your bedroom, mingled with the lewd sounds of him lapping at your dripping folds as his fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, but he seemed to understand.

Bradley relented, only for a moment, to urge, “Come for me, honey.” The directive was mumbled into your skin as his gaze lifted to meet yours and, for a moment, you lost the ability to breathe. Honey eyes, blown wide with lust and darkening with each swipe of his tongue, captivated you. “Wanna taste you.”

Everything outside of Bradley - the intensity of his gaze, the feeling of his hand gripping your thigh, the insistent press of his fingers into your dripping cunt, the drag of his tongue through your folds, the weight of him pressed against your body, the heat of him burning you from within - ceased to exist.

With a cry of the only word your lust-addled brain could recount - “Bradley!” - you came.

Bradley didn’t relent.

The warmth of him remained pressed against your body, the weight of his hand splayed across your thigh and the rough drag of that fucking mustache as he mouthed at the soft skin of your inner thigh. Each touch felt magnified, as if your senses had been dialed to a thousand, but there was no ounce of upset anywhere to be found, even as he smirked at you.

“Still with me, honey?” Bradley hadn’t struck you as a cocky man but he oozed confidence as he pressed slick fingers into your hip to keep you from moving away. He glanced up at you, still settled between your spread thighs, and waited patiently for your response.

“Fuck.”

At that, Bradley laughed. The look on his face was one you hadn’t expected - pride, sure, but almost something akin to relief that you didn’t feel capable of dwelling on in the moment. Before you could question it, however, he shifted to settle above you. “This still okay?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, voice catching in your throat as his lips pressed to the heated skin of your shoulder. “More than. Please.”

Bradley hummed, acknowledging that he’d heard you, and shifted to allow you to push the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders before he returned to pressing kisses along the column of your throat. With each press of his mouth to your skin, you sank deeper into the plush of your mattress. 

Still, as you felt the fabric of the muscle shirt he’d worn beneath the Hawaiian shirt, you huffed. “It’s not fair that I’m naked and you’re still fully clothed,” you pouted, only half-confident the words came out as strong as you wanted them to.

With a laugh, Bradley easily lifted himself from you and made quick work of shucking the remainder of his clothing. His shirt, tossed into a corner to be found later, was followed by the rough denim of his jeans and, lastly, the soft cotton of his briefs.

The assumption you’d made - that the preparation of his fingers was necessary - was accurate. 

“Fuck me.” The exclamation escaped unintentionally, mumbled beneath your breath the moment you caught sight of him, and you could see the dusting of pink across his cheeks and chest as he ducked his head.

“I was hoping you’d let me,” he declared, laughing quietly as he leaned in to nip at the column of your throat. “Can I?”

The objects in your nightstand clattered as you rummaged through them blindly in search of the little box. It had been shoved to the back and nearly hidden behind a mountain of other items, but you triumphantly tugged a little foil square from the depths and handed it to Bradley with a grin.

“Please.”

Bradley readily tore open the foil packet and rolled the condom on. As he shifted closer, settled himself between your spread thighs and pressed a hand to your hip to help steady himself, you tangled your fingers in his hair. Though he’d worked you open with his fingers and tongue, there was still a slight pinch as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance and pressed forward.

Another kiss, heated and desperate, stole your breath as he seated himself fully inside. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, though you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. After a few moments, when the slight pinch began to give way to a pleasant fullness, you shifted your hips and nipped at his bottom lip.

“You can move. Please.”

At first, the pace was slow and measured, an even rock of his hips. After a few moments, however, Bradley began to set a rhythm that stole your breath and had your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. He pressed impossibly deeper, filled you in a way you’d never felt before, and managed to hit the spot that made you see stars with each drag of his hips. 

Every moan was swallowed but each sound only seemed to make him that much more eager to please.

The weight of his body pressed to yours, heavy but in the most pleasant way; the rough drag of his fingertips as he circled your clit, tight circles that had you questioning whether to chase the sensation or push him away; the insistent press of his hips, deeper and impossibly deeper with each thrust; the gruff of his voice, deeper and deeper with each curse that left his lips.

It all culminated into an end that hit you with more force than you could’ve seen coming.

This orgasm was significantly more powerful than the first, strong enough to knock the air from your lungs and send splotches of white dancing across your vision. Bradley pushed through, eagerly swallowed your cry of his name, and chased his own release on the heels of yours. 

When he came, with a swear and his forehead pressed to yours, he shifted to remove his weight from your body and laid beside you. As you both came down from your respective highs, you took a moment to study him.

In the dim light of your room, Bradley seemed even more beautiful. The slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the plush of his lips; now that you knew it all, had seen it and felt it and tasted it, you wanted nothing more than to give in to the urge to press yourself into his side. It was the post-release high, you knew that, but you were still half-convinced there was something more to Bradley than any other fling. 

However, after a few moments of silence, filled only with the sounds of your attempts to catch your breath, Bradley shifted. He leaned over to press another kiss to your shoulder, grinning when you laughed at the tickle of his mustache against your skin, before he pushed himself out of the bed.

With great difficulty, you hid the slight sting of disappointment as he began to gather the pieces of his clothing. “You can stay,” you offered, quiet voice sounding too loud in the near silence of the room. As you watched him search for his shirt in the chaos of your room, you added, “If you want.”

“Believe me, I would love to, but I’ve got to be at work in,” he paused for a moment, tapped the home screen of his phone, and grimaced, “three hours.” He stood and tugged on his briefs, followed by his jeans, before he turned back to you.

There was an honesty in his answer that served as something of a balm, a small glimmer of hope that he was telling the truth and would’ve stayed had the timing been different, so you nodded. “I’ll walk you out, then,” you offered as you climbed out of bed and wrapped a throw blanket around your shoulders.

Bradley walked slowly through your apartment, wasting a few moments of time as he gathered the few items of his that had been tossed throughout the apartment, before turning to you in the living room. Those eyes - those damn eyes that seemed to have an unexplainable power over you - met yours before he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

It was just close enough to tempt you into turning your head - giving in to the newfound urge to sink into him, to revel in the way his mouth slotted against yours - but before you could, he pulled away and offered up his phone. There was no need for words, nothing of note to say as you tapped away, diligently inputting the number you hoped he’d call.

And then, with a smile and one final press of his mouth to yours - a promise to call you mumbled into your skin - Bradley turned to leave.

There was little doubt that he would reach out - he seemed so fucking sincere, so sweet, and you knew you would see him again, even if it was just in passing at the bar - but you didn’t expect to see an unknown number appear on your phone screen quite so soon.

As you padded into the kitchen in search of water, you tapped the answer button. “Just wanted to make sure you had my number, too,” Bradley offered by way of greeting, grin evident as you heard the thud of a door shutting behind him. “Just in case.”

“Just in case,” you echoed, grinning without restraint. “I appreciate it.”

“Just being chivalrous,” he declared, not bothering to hide his amusement. “But, now that I’ve got you, what d’you think about dinner on Saturday? Might have to miss a thrilling night at the bar but, who knows? Could be worth it.”

“Could be,” you agreed easily. “And they always say, variety is the spice of life.” Dinner with Bradley would be worth it - he’d already proven time spent with him would be worthwhile - and you felt your heart begin to beat just a touch faster at the prospect of getting to know him. “I think dinner sounds good. The company might not be all that bad either.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised, laughing quietly as the sound of the city began to filter through the speaker. “I’ll see you on Saturday, then.”

“See you on Saturday,” you agreed, grinning as you leaned against the counter and felt a flurry of butterflies swirling in the pit of your stomach. “Have a good night, Bradley.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

In all of the scenarios you could’ve dreamt, few of them left you as giddy as reality. There was no guarantee that a future in which you and Bradley became more than you were in that moment existed but, regardless of where the future took you, you were looking forward to the journey.

_________________________________________________________________

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[britany1997]

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Two

It’s here y’all! The next chapter of Fate Yields For No One! I’m so excited for y’all to read it! Hope y’all love it🥰 let me know in the comments if you’d like to be added to the FYFNO Taglist, or to my main list:)

Poly! Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

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Prologue, Chapter One

California, 1986

“I know you resent me now, but I’m only doing what’s best for you. I take care of my children, and I hope that in time you can learn to see me as your father.”

Fuck Max. Fuck California. Fuck everything.

The second you’d carved even a sliver of a life for yourself, it’d been forcefully ripped from you. You weren’t allowed to be free. You had been “gifted” with eternal life, but you couldn’t truly live.

Max saw himself as a savior. According to him, he’d rescued you from the gutter, from an impending death. But you’d died everyday since his fangs had sunken into your skin.

A stake through the heart was a kindness you would never be afforded. Your future had never been yours to control.

The room you’d been banished to at the top of Max’s house felt more like a gilded tower as the nights wore on.

You were semi-imprisoned by your self-proclaimed father, and semi-imprisoned by your own will. Max didn’t trust you enough to allow you out alone at night, but you’d be damned if you ever went out with him.

So you stayed, confined to your prison and guarded by Thorn. You seethed in malice, all alone.

Or sort of alone, as you’d done in life, you allowed yourself to escape to worlds within literature. Your bedside table was stacked with Mrs. Dalloway, The Bell Jar, and of course, Jane Eyre. What were you if not a mad woman locked inside a room. All you needed was a match.

You were skimming the pages of The Feminine Mystique when you heard a firm knocking on your bedroom door. Shortly after, Max entered, his tall, broad frame filling the doorway. “I want you to come to the video store tonight, in fact, I’d like you to start working there for me.”

You continued to read, refusing to so much as look at him as he spoke to you, “why’d you knock if you were just going to come in anyway?”

Max frowned, “you’ve been here for almost a month now and you’ve done nothing but refuse to acknowledge me and behave terribly.”

“Not true,” you said nonchalantly, holding up your book and finally meeting his eyes, “I’ve also been reading.”

Max’s head fell into his hands in frustration. “I’ve tried so hard with you but-”

“Tried what?” you interrupted, “thrusting the curse of immortality onto me without explaining what you were doing? Without telling me what it meant? Without giving me a choice?!”

Max crossed his arms, preparing himself for another of your monologues.

“Or maybe you mean ripping me from my home, from the life I’d made for myself. Because God forbid I do anything on my own, God forbid I allow myself to be happy for once in my unlife. No, you’d rather keep me under your thumb, calling yourself my father just to spite me.”

“Are you done?” Max asked, eyebrow raised.

“Might as well be,” you spit, “you can hear me but you never listen.”

“You mock me for calling myself your father, when all you ever do is act like a rebellious child.”

You grimaced and turned your eyes to the ground.

He stepped forward, “I don’t want to use it, but I will.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. He was referring of course, to his thrall.

As your sire, Max had completely power over you. If he chose to, he could utter the words and force you to do whatever he wanted.

Max had assured you that he wouldn’t use this power unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. Yet this didn’t set you at ease. The threat of your agency being stripped from you was constantly present in the back of your mind.

It was better for you to choose to do what he wanted, if it could be called a choice.

You sighed, dog earring your book and throwing it into your tote as you slipped it over your shoulder. You moved to walk out the door but paused in front of Max, “I hope you know how much I hate you.”

He sighed, a sad smile stretching across his face, “I do.”

You arrived at the video store to find that an application had already been filled out for you, and your employment had been approved.

You glared at Max as he pulled out your name tag, “this is demeaning,” you told him.

He rolled his eyes, “having a summer job you were given because of nepotism? Yes, no one has suffered as you have suffered.”

He clipped the name tag to your shirt, “enough with this attitude,” he whispered.

He turned to a pretty, curly haired girl working the counter, “Maria, this is my daughter,” you waved awkwardly, “she’ll be working here this summer, show her what to do.”

He turned back to you, “I’ve got to do inventory, listen to Maria she’s a nice girl.”

With that he patted your arm and headed to the back of the store.

Maria came out from behind the counter and offered you her hand, which you gladly took. “I’m Maria,” she smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen in a long time as she shook your hand, “I’ve been working the night shift alone for forever! I’m really glad to have you here.”

Your cheeks flushed at her words, “well, I’m glad to be here,” you said genuinely. It’d been awhile since you’d had anyone you’d been able to truly connect with.

In her smile you saw the potential for a confidant, something you desperately needed. Maybe you couldn’t tell her about the monstrous side of you, but you wanted her to know everything else. You wanted someone who truly knew you.

The night passed quickly as Maria taught you how to work the register, stock movies, and use the stores check out system. With the rest of your time you were content to listen as she rambled about her life.

You smiled softly as she told you about her friends, her classes, and her family. Maria was the oldest daughter of a huge, tight knit family. Five siblings meant she spent a lot of her weekends babysitting, but she didn’t seem to mind.

She gushed to you about each sibling, their personalities, their quirks, their likes and dislikes, by the end of the night you felt like you knew each of them. You were touched by her obvious care for them.

When the end of her shift came, you were holding back tears. She loved her family just as you’d loved yours. For the first time in a long time, you’d met a kindred spirit, for the first time in a long time, you had a friend.

When she’d finished packing up her things, Maria pulled you in for a hug. “It was so nice to meet you! I can’t wait to see you again for our shift tomorrow.”

Your heart swelled, “I can’t wait either!”

She shot you another one of her bright smiles before turning to head out the door. You beamed to yourself as you fiddled with the register.

“Hey babe, heading out already?” your ears perked up at the sound of someone speaking to Maria.

She giggled, “Paul, you know you’re not supposed to be in here anymore,” she sing-songed.

Paul sighed dramatically, “oh babe I’d stay away, but I’d miss seeing ya every night!”

Maria laughed once more, “we couldn’t have that now could we.”

You rolled your eyes at this Paul guy’s cheesy flirting, wondering why he wasn’t allowed in the store.

“Who’s the new chick,” Paul whispered.

You tried to ignore him as you counted the cash.

“Why don’t you see for yourself Paulie,” Maria teased, “I’ve gotta get going.”

“Sure baby, let me just turn on my charm.”

You could hear his voice dripping with fuckboy confidence. This would be good.

You were jolted from your thoughts by the repeated ringing of the bell on the counter. You sighed, turning around slowly, an annoyed expression on your face.

Your eyes met the blond man’s piercing blue ones, as you stared into them your frustration melted into shock.

Paul’s eyes widened as he realized who you were to him. You wished you could have stopped the word that fell from his lips.

“Mine.”

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[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

The chi-swapped versions of the characters work by removing the larger chunk of the user's chi, but doesn't actually add anything that wasn't already there.

It's interesting how the things they say are genuine thoughts in the back of their mind or stewing in the corner of their hearts.

Heylin Omi

"When I tried to lead, no one would follow. When I tried to speak, no one would listen. Only one person stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me. That is where I choose to go."

"I have no time to rest. I must fight. If only I did not have to sleep. I could fight 7-24. Hyah! Hyah!"

"As long as I get to fight, fight, fight!"

Good Omi

"Hello, my wonderful friends!"

"Yes, but it is not bigger than the joy I feel towards all of you! If I had arms, I would give you all a hug. If I had legs, I would leap for joy!"

good Jack

"Omi! I missed you so!"

"I say go for it! I know you guys can't lose! Because you have good on your side! And when you have good, you've got the world on a string!"

"Wouldn't want anything to happen to my number one guy (Master Fung)! Mwah!"

"Oh, Jack. It’s so good to see you! No, no, no. You don’t wanna go in there. That’s where Hannibal Bean lives. The last thing you need are more bad influences."

"I’m afraid my evil side’s about to get into a whole lot of trouble."

"Bad Jack went to visit… Hannibal Bean! I told him not to, but does he listen to me? Nooooooo!"

Heylin Kimiko

"Once I have both Wu, it’s evil domination, baby!"

Good Wuya

"If I win, I’m opening a home for birds without nests."

I've talked at length about how you can see Omi's loneliness and isolation and the utter depths of devotion he's capable of in Heylin Omi, as well as the hyperactive bloodknight energy he always has. It also shows how much Omi really loves Chase. It shows us that deep down, all Omi wants is to be with someone who he feels loves, trusts, and believes in him.

And you can see the overwhelming adoration and love for his friends in good Omi, when he doesn't have his other half to stifle how much he wants to gush over them. This half of Omi doesn't even mind comments about the size of his head.

Heylin Kimiko reveals that world domination is apparently just in the back of Kimiko's mind on a daily basis. She's a rich kid so nothing too out of the ordinary there.

Good Wuya reveals that Wuya likes birds, which is consistent with how good she is Ying-Ying and how she played nice with Chase's crow.

But Good Jack probably reveals the most about himself, I think.

Jack apparently believes that good always triumphs over evil, and he's genuinely worried about how many bad influences he has in his life. He's somewhat fond of the monks and prefers Omi good rather than evil.

And there's Good Jack's attachment to Master Fung, "his number one guy".

I don't think Jack already had this admiration for Master Fung buried deep down, of course. I think this is another show of how Jack really wants to cling to an older role model in his own alignment.

Good Jack idolizes Master Fung in the exact same way Regular Jack idolizes Hannibal, Chase, and Klofange (until he found out Klofange was wasn't evil and idolized Dyris instead.)