#it feels like I’ve here for forever and no time at all

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[thewispsings]

crying in the club | mv1

pairing: max verstappen x norris!reader

summary: how should one react when their boyfriend wins the world championship at the same time their brother loses it?

max my four time world champion!!!

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 481,017 others!

yourusername: the sun will shine on you soon baby brother!! this season was tough but you got through it ♡♡ i love you forever (world champions are overrated anyways 😉)

view comments below!

user1: you are the strongest soldier here

user2: you are the reason i survived this season

user2: everytime i wanted to throw up, i thought about how you were doing, and thought you must’ve been doing much worse, thank you!

user3: youre finally free from all this ‘champion battle’ talk 🍾

user4: you running back in forth from redbull to mclaren made my night

user5: it’s even funnier how her body language would change, in the mclaren garage she would be all gloomy but once she ran back to redbull it was arms up partying

lewishamilton: i wouldn’t say alll world championships are overrated

yourusername: shut up lewis hamilton 7x world champion, arguably the best f1 driver in existence, kind, humble, handsome and—would you like do go on a date with me?

maxverstappen1: excuse me?

yourusername: i don’t know what happened max, i was i insulting him and next thing i knew i wanted him on my lap

lewishamilton: i feel…odd

yourusername: good odd or bad odd

lewishamilton: i can’t tell…

yourusername: come over to the redbull garage to find out 😼

landonorris: genuinely, what the fuck is going on?

maxverstappen1: i don’t know, so i’ve decided to ignore it

landonorris: ignoring what ever that was, thank you 🧡

yourusername: say it

landonorris: say what

yourusername: say ‘i love you’ you emotionally stunted gremlin

landonorris: i don’t…

yourusername: say it lando

maxverstappen1: yeah cmon lando, say it

landonorris: too like both of you or?..

maxverstappen1: yes, tell your brother in law that you love him

landonorris: okay first, you’re not my brother in law, second, i don’t feel very comfortable right now

yourusername: say it with me lando, “i loveee youuu”

landonorris: guys…

yourusername: SAY IT

maxverstappen: CMON LANDO SAY IT

yourusername: SAY IT

yourusername: SAY IT

landonorris: OK I LOVE YOU GUYS

user6: is this the peer pressure my school always warned me about?

user7: no…that was just, sad.

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 761,018 others!

yourusername: THATS MY FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE BUMS WHO SAID HE WAS NOTHING BUT A PRETTY MAN IN A FAST CAR, NOW WHAT????? NOBODY COMPARES TO MAX FUCKING VERSTAPPEN. AND YOU ALL BETTER REMEMBER THAT.

view comments below!

user8: now it’s time to hit the club

yourusername: i’ll be crying in the club, thank you very much

user9: crying for lando, partying for max, it’s perfect

user10: you are the perfect amount of supportive to both lando and max

maxverstappen1: ik houd van je 💙

yourusername: @/landonorris

landonorris: i don’t speak dutch??

yourusername: he just told me he loved me loser

landonorris: o-kay?

yourusername: gosh you are so emotionally unintelligent, it makes me sick

landonorris: i just lost the world championship please be kind to me

yourusername: im your sister which basically means i lost the championship too, yet i still tell you i love you?

landonorris: THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS

yourusername: I LOVE YOU LANDO

landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE

maxverstappen1: we should get married in vegas

yourusername: oh my god, yes. but no elvis because he freaks me out

maxverstappen1: CHARLES SHOULD MARRY US

charles_leclerc: guys…i would be honored

yourusername: i don’t know max, i have a feeling you’ll run away with him and leave me at the alter

maxverstappen1: yeah…that probably will happen 😔, it’s okay, lando can marry us!!!

landonorris: what the fuck is today

[sturniozo]

listen, i’m a WHORE for face riding🙏 so like could you possibly make something where like ur riding (matt or chris)’s face🙏 that’s it!! go wild!

Tastes So Sweet

(Chris Sturniolo x Reader Smut)

“Ow, ow!” I pull back. “Chris that hurt.”

“Sorry babe.” Chris smiles sheepishly and runs his hand through his hair. “I got a little carried away.”

My fingers graze over my neck, where Chris had left a bite mark. “I have work in the morning, I can’t go in with a hickey.”

Chris shrugs. “So what, like you haven’t before.”

I narrow my eyes at Chris. “If I get caught like that again at work, it’s a write up.”

Chris scoffs and leans back against the headboard. “I hope you get fired. You don’t need to be working that dead end waitress job. I can support us.”

I roll my eyes before curling up to Chris’s side. He wraps an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “I can leave a lot of marks on you, you know.” He smirks as he looks down at me.

I look up to meet his gaze. “I know you can, but I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Chris groans. “Why? So that loser, Korey, can hit on you all day without realizing you have a boyfriend?”

“Korey knows I have a boyfriend.”

“Ah, but you admit he hits on you all day.” Chris says in a cocky tone.

I sigh. “He doesn’t. And he’s my superior, he’s the one who would write me up for that.”

Chris closes his eyes and shakes his head, leaning his head back against the headboard. “I hate that guy.” He mumbles.

“You don’t have to deal with him all day.” I giggle as I lean my head in Chris’s chest.

“I have to deal with him hitting on you all day every day.”

I sigh. “Can we just drop this?”

Chris shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.”

I snuggle closer into his chest. He huffs and moves his arm down my waist. “As much as i want to stay here forever and just cuddle with you all day-“

Chris cuts me off. “I don’t want to just cuddle, if you know what i mean.” He says with a chuckle.

I smack his chest. “As I was saying, I can’t. I have to go to work, I can’t get fired.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times.” Chris situates himself better to sit up straight as I sit up next to him, my arm still around him although he had removed his arm from my waist. “I can support us both and more, you don’t need that job.”

I sigh. “Chris, you know I’d feel guilty if i let you just pay for everything. I need a job, at least part time, so I don’t feel so useless all the time.”

“Hey.” Chris cups my face in his hands. “You are not useless.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I don’t mind you having a job either, I get it. I just hate you having that job.” He leans back against the headboard.

“I don’t want to fight right now.” I mumble.

“We aren’t going to fight.” Chris wraps his arm around me and pulls me in close to him. He kisses the top of my head and rubs my arm gently.

I close my eyes and nuzzle my head against Chris’s chest. “I love you.” I murmur into his chest.

Chris smiles into my hair. “I love you too.”

I breathe in this moment and smile. This perfect moment with my perfect boyfriend. I love moments like these. Moments where everything else just fades away. Everything like the almost-argument we could have had just fades away. Gone.

“Hey,” Chris murmurs against the top of my head. “You should call in.”

I groan. “Not this again-“

“No, no, no-“ He kisses my head again. “I was thinking of you calling in because you won’t be able to walk through the front door.”

I lift my head and face Chris’s smirk. “Are you being serious?” I ask.

Chris nods. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to get up to go to work.”

I laugh. “Okay.” I sit up straight and straddle his waist. “But I have a challenge for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris says as his eyes flicker up and down my body. “And what is it?”

“You have to fuck me until I can’t walk.” I lean in close, my lips ghosting over his. “But only using your tongue.”

Chris let’s put a hot, breathy laugh. “You’re in for it then.” He says before smashing his lips against mine.

I slip my hands under his shirt and begin to roam his torso, my fingers touching his skin lightly. I pull away from the kiss to slip my shirt off over my head. I toss it across the room, and before it hits the ground Chris’s hands cup my breasts.

I smash my lips back against his and grind my hips on him. One hand tangles into his hair while the other finds its way back under his shirt, feeling up his torso once again.

Chris takes off his shirt and tosses it by mine. His hands find my back as in one swift movement, he moves us so I’m on my back, my head at the foot of the bed, and his head is between my legs. He slips off my panties from under my skirt and throws them on the floor. He moves my legs over his shoulders as his head dips under my skirt and begins to lick my core.

The movements of his tongue are swift and soft. Something I’ve felt from him a million times before.

“Just your tongue baby, nothing else.” I remind him.

Chris only grunts in response as I recognize a familiar feeling. Him licking his name into my pussy.

C. A jolt slides through my body at the curve.

H. The slide across my hole sends shudders down my spine.

R. He took his sweet time with this one.

I. That line. That straight line. I buck my hips into his lips causing him to chuckle and push my hips back down.

S. The curving zig zag causes me to moan out loudly.

T. The top stride pressing my clit and making me moan out louder.

O. A perfect circle around my hole.

P. I won’t last to the end. I start panting and gripping the sheets.

H. Again, the line sliding right over my hole. Just go in my already!

E. I just couldn’t last. My legs start shaking and my hips start gyrating. I won’t make it until-

R. The loop wrapping around my hole and his tongue sliding over my clit one last time before I scream out, cumming on his tongue.

“Oh god!” I scream out.

Chris raises his head from under my skirt. “I’m not done.” He says breathlessly.

Chris throws the pillow across the room and lays down on the bed, motioning me to sit on his face.

“Chris-“

“Sit on my face right now.” He says.

A blush creeps over my cheeks and I oblige. I get to my knees and crawl over to him. I turn around, positioning myself above his face. I move my skirt to cover his head completely.

His hands hold my hips down, pressing my core right against his lips. His tongue slips up and down, rolling over my clit over and over in quick movements. His tongue dips into my hole, rolling like a wave inside of me. All while his bottom lip rubs over my clit.

“Chris!” I call out.

The familiar knot in my stomach unravels once again. Chris slurps up my juices as I ride out my high, while also riding his face. Chris doesn’t stop. He continues with his relentless railing of his tongue in my core.

Strides licking up and down, zig zagging left and right, flicking my clit at the end. The same movement over and over, done a second after it started. The feeling is unreal.

Another knot in my stomach. Another shaking sensation throughout my whole body. I release again on his lips.

“Chris, no more-“ I pant out as he continues. “Chris, I can’t-“

“Just one more baby.” He says breathlessly under me. “You can do it for me.”

Chris’s tongue rolls over my clit like a tidal wave. Over and over, tickling my nerves in the best possible way. It’s not even a minute before I release one last time.

“Chris!” I yell out. My entire body shakes and gives out, as I collapse to the side of Chris.

He sits up, positioning me in a more comfortable place, before laying next to me and wrapping his arms around me.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles as he kisses my forehead.

I nod in response, to out of breath to speak. Chris smiles and lets out a breath of relief.

“Are you gonna call into work?” He asks.

I nod again, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Good.” Chris smiles and kissing my forehead again. “God. You taste so sweet.”

TAGLIST:

@bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl1 @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chriss @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07

[luvmanifesting]

“CRAZY” things i’ve manifested from the void and my imagination.

All my family members stop aging at 22-30

Being able to endure the coldest temperatures

Being able to hear anyone from FAR FAR FAR distances

Revised my age like 3 times, i was born 2007 but permanently made myself 16

Immune to dying in any way except a peaceful death if desired

my cat living until i basically pass over (whenever i desire)

keeping everything i’ve manifested forever and if i were reincarnate i would be born with everything i had in this reality

my celebrity crush (i changed his age so it wouldn’t be weird)

Animals being able to talk to me

Everything being free for me (because i was tired of currency so basically everything for me and my family is free)

Reversed my friend’s tumor

Immune to getting any type of disease/sickness

Never a boring or dull day

Time controlling basically

Being able to stay underwater for as long as i want without coming up for air

Being able to read people like a book (no manipulation around here!!)

My english getting better (i rarely use it)

If someone has animosity towards me or is wishing harm on me (digitally,physically, internally) it will appear in my dreams and will send intense karma their way

Having a hairless body forever (except my eyebrows and eyelashes and my hair lol)

Everyday feels like 2014-2017

Being able to drive how i want and permanently avoiding all car accidents

And a lot more. sorry for the spam guys but i just wanted to put what i manifested out there since i had plenty of questions about it, if i can manifest this crazy stuff then so can you!

Until next time! (^-^)/

[aedearly]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of loose quotes taken from various characters from hades (supergiant games). these quotes are from the first game of the series. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit, especially since some are gendered.

❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ that could have gone better. ❞ ❝ why can’t you just stay? ❞ ❝ i wish you could come with me. ❞ ❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ i have to take you back. ❞ ❝ but for you, i will be making an exception. ❞ ❝ whew… they’re gone. ❞ ❝ now, come on, we got places to be! ❞ ❝ may the fates favour your journey. ❞ ❝ oh you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞ ❝ if only… ❞ ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry that it has to be this way. ❞ ❝ you’re late. ❞ ❝ will i see you soon? ❞ ❝ did you miss me? ❞ ❝ i’m home. ❞ ❝ we’re heading home. ❞ ❝ you… came back? ❞ ❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞ ❝ is something wrong? ❞ ❝ i can’t believe this. ❞ ❝ i’m in your debt. ❞ ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞ ❝ … damn you. ❞ ❝ this is for you. ❞ ❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ ❝ i’m not who you think i am. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. ❞ ❝ to hell with this place! ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ oh, look at you, you poor, poor thing, you’re hurt! ❞ ❝ you’re such a sweetheart. ❞ ❝ you brought this on yourself. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me, mate. ❞ ❝ please, i don’t want to do this… ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this… ❞ ❝ only the best for you. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ ❝ gods grant me strength… ❞ ❝ that is the worst idea i think i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞ ❝ look what i found! ❞ ❝ something’s changed about the beating of your heart. ❞ ❝ no wonder they don’t like you. ❞ ❝ wish i could be there to see your face. ❞ ❝ i’ll earn your favour yet. ❞ ❝ how bad could it be? ❞ ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞ ❝ … this is the cheesiest thing i’ve heard from you. ❞ ❝ what has gotten into you? ❞ ❝ blood and darkness! ❞ ❝ lucky for you, i’ve no pride like many others here. ❞ ❝ it’s over. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ go. away. i won’t repeat myself. ❞ ❝ i knew your heart was true. ❞ ❝ let’s kiss and make up! ❞ ❝ mischief, me? oh please! ❞ ❝ i don’t know how you can stand this kind of thing… ❞ ❝ you tried. that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ a man after my own heart… ❞ ❝ why won’t you give up? ❞ ❝ ever so stubborn, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ life and death, one and the same. ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. again. ❞ ❝ what do you want from me? leave me alone. we’ve nothing to discuss anymore. ❞ ❝ i cannot bring myself to stay upset with you forever. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ i have to see her! ❞ ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ ❝ you think all these gifts will make things go back to the way they were? ❞ ❝ we’re older now—i’d hope we’re wiser, too. ❞ ❝ i have to go. ❞ ❝ we were having such a good time! ❞ ❝ time is up. ❞ ❝ you’re so reckless. ❞ ❝ thank you for always keeping me on my toes. ❞ ❝ your luck’s run out. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i bother with you, honestly. ❞ ❝ may i call you my friend? ❞ ❝ i’d like to make a toast, to you! ❞ ❝ no need for special thanks. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on yet. ❞ ❝ i’ll break your heart. ❞

[adieutristana]

Could you do how Jinx would react If you would give her a Love confession similiar to the one lexie gave mark in greys anatomy headcanons?

of course! thank you for being my first request! i’d like to preface this by saying i’ve seen 0% of greys anatomy. i did watch a clip and do some reading but there may still be some inaccuracies, i apologize </3 i did also take a few creative liberties for the sake of drama

i started writing this before act 3 dropped (no spoilers, dw) and now i'm finishing it to cope. LMAO

summary: headcanons for jinx receiving a confession similar to the one mark received in greys anatomy.

characters included: jinx

tags/warnings: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, (happy) crying. lots of fluff

men dni.

✧.* you and jinx were both working under silco before he passed. the news of his passing hit you like a pile of bricks. you had grown relatively close to him- well, as close as one of his employees could grow to him. but you cared for him.

✧.* however, the position paid well, even after silco's passing. so you decided to stay.

✧.* you had also, for lack of a better term, completely fallen for your coworker, jinx.

✧.* unfortunately for you, you had come to this realization while you were in a relationship with somebody else.

✧.* it came as such a shock to you, because you were happy, your girlfriend adored you. you adored your girlfriend. but the more you fell for jinx, the less you could stand to be with your girlfriend and hurt her.

✧.* so, you broke up with her. you told her that she was incredible, that she was a lovely person and you were sorry you couldn’t do more for her. but you were in love with somebody else.

✧.* and that leaves you here. with your colleague who has captured your heart, who you've just finished a successful mission with and wants to celebrate with you. and the fact that she has no idea of your feelings eats at you.

✧.* jinx beaming at you, the rare smile on her face as she makes her way towards you, jumping in excitement.

✧.* the two of you had just made it back to jinx's hideout, surrounded by her colorful wall tags and assorted gadgets.

✧.* "oh, did you see the look on their faces?! that was incredible, (y/n)! it was so-"

✧.* you just couldn't hold back. tears were welling in your eyes, your hands were trembling, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet jinx's gaze.

✧.* jinx stepped forward, her concern written across her face. "you okay?"

✧.* "i love you." you blurted out, now lifting your head to look jinx directly in the eye. you were delirious, you were confused, you were relieved. relieved to finally tell her.

✧.* "oh my god, that was so sudden, it just came out- i love you. i love you, jinx." you continued, your voice shaking. now that you had started, you couldn't stop. just how long had these feelings festered, deep inside of you? how much longer could you hold onto them?

✧.* jinx's expression was unreadable. her mouth agape, her pink eyes were blown wide. her shoulders were strangely tense, but you could tell that her full attention was on you.

✧.* "i love you. i love you, and i've been trying not to say it.. but i can't. it's so hard. it's so hard to repress it, to ignore it, to act like everything is fine but the truth is that i love you more than anything."

✧.* tears started falling from your eyes, yet you went on as if nothing was happening. "my ex was a great girl, she's incredible, she's gorgeous, and she isn't a master criminal- and she loved me. but it was never gonna work out."

✧.* jinx stepped closer to you, slowly, achingly slowly.

✧.* "i- i love you. i'm so in love with you.." tears kept falling, falling, falling. but the words kept coming. "it's like i'm infected by jinx." you chuckled dryly, using your arm to wipe underneath your eyes.

✧.* "i can't think of anything, or anybody, i can't sleep.. i can't breathe. i love you, jinx. all the time. now and forever." you concluded, your breath coming in heavy pants after your tirade. you mustered up the best smile you could for the woman across from you, taking agonizingly slow steps toward you.

✧.* when jinx finally was in close enough proximity, her face mere inches from yours, both of her hands gently cupped your cheeks. the pads of her thumbs swiping underneath your wet eyes. the corners of her lips turned upward ever so slightly.

✧.* "you... love me?" she whispered, voice low.

✧.* and at this, you genuinely were in disbelief. you laughed, heartily, only for a minute. jinx's eyes went wide yet again, and you could tell she was beginning to panic. what if she had misheard you? was this a dream? was she-

✧.* "i think i've made that pretty clear, jinx. yes. i love you."

✧.* the worry washed away from her, and her arms wrapped around your waist. holding you ever so gently, as if you were made of porcelain. as if she was afraid she would break you if she held on too tight. you've never seen her be so delicate with somebody.

✧.* she pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to your cheek.

✧.* "that's good." jinx replied, turning her head to the side to rest it on your shoulder. "because i think i love you too."

[katiascraft]

“26” | CL16 ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

Parings: charles leclerc x ex!singer!reader

Summary: the world didn’t know you and Charles broke up a few months ago. it was until you haven’t been to any gp people started speculating. he finds some one new. Makes his dream com true. And you write an album about him reveling how you broke up and why.

“If it doesn’t go away by the time I’m 30 then I made a mistake and I’ll tell you I’m sorry”

Now playing: “21” by Gracie Abrams.

warnings: smau and that’s it tbh :)

author’s note: idk if this makes sense but I hope it does lol. Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

── .✦

yourusername made a post

liked by yourbff, taylorswift, shawnmendes, and 1,345,789 others

yourusername: guess it’s just me, myself and music 🐰 (new tunes coming soon)

view more comments

user89: queeennnn can’t wait!!!

charlesmylove: why isn’t charles liking y/n stuff anymore 😭

↳ user976: RIGHT that’s what I’ve noticed

↳ user435: girl don’t start being delusional prob Charles doesn’t use social media

↳ user21: I have the feeling they broke up

sabrinacarpenter: they are not ready for what’s coming 🤓

↳ yourusername: 🤫

shawnmendes: gonna be album of the year

lilyhme: prettiest girl in town now can be mine 💍

↳ yourusername: yours forever my love 💍

↳ charlesstan: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOW WHAT

↳ user0923: guess she knows things we don’t

↳ y/nxtaylor: spill the tea sis 😭

↳ alexalbon: why you always wanna date your friends???

↳ lilymhe: they’re pretty

↳ alexalbon: and I’m not??? I AM YOUR BOYFRIEND

↳ georgerussel: love watching drama 🍿

↳ y/nstan: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!

── .✦

#charles and #y/n are trending on twitter

── .✦

f1gossipofficial made a post

liked by user57, user1, y/nstan, charlesiloveu and others.

f1gossipofficial: rumors has it that our fave couple on the grid isn’t couple anymore! 💔 Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc was seen out and about with a mistery girl. The source confirmed it wasn’t y/n. Y/n was seen arriving to New York last Monday. The fan that met her told us she said in a conversation she’s been living there since last year! Guess they broken up late last year and kept it a secret! What do we thing about all of this????

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user34: WHAT THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE THEY LOOKED LIKE END GAME 😭😭😭

charlesstan: I’m dead

user975: tbh I didn’t like her for him

y/nstan: I liked Charles sm this is so sad

user0863: now I need y/n new music I NEED TO KNOW

user87: new music coming >>>> new break up song about Charles 😭

usrr12: who is that mistery girl? We need a further investigation

↳ f1gossipofficial: on it baby 🕵️

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yourusername uploaded a story

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charlesleclerc uploaded a story

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charlesleclerc made a post

liked by user572, yourusername, carlossainz55 and others.

charlesleclerc: WE FINALLY MADE IT! I won my home gp for the first time, wow! Thank you everyone, ferrari, the fans. Everyone. This was my dream and I can’t believe this is actually reality. So thrilled! This is for you dad, wish you were here to see it. Let’s celebrate and then focus on the next race! 💪🏻

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user86: he is so proud of you I promise 😭😭😭

charstan: congrats prince!! ✨

y/nstan: why is my woman on the likes ????

↳ user32: THATS WHAT I THOUGHT FIRST INTERACTION IN QLMOST A YEAR

carlossainz55: congrats hermano !!!!

landonorris: what a race mate!

lewishamilton: finally!! 👑

user678: so happy for you charlieeeee

arthurleclerc: ❤️❤️❤️

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you text your producer and best friend

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yourusername made a post

liked by user679, yourbff, sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 1,432,568 others

yourusername: here to finally tell you that my first single “26” for my next album is out!!! Made this album from the deep end of my heart. Hope you like it as much as I love it (and help me get through). link in bio 🧸

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yourbff: the most beautiful and saddest song I’ve ever heard 😭

lilymhe: GIRL I’m sobbing wtf

user256: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

User998: she really said let’s spill the tea

↳ user895: but i never thought it would be LIKE THIS 😭

landonorris: congrats @/yourusername !! On repeat for the rest of the month at least

↳ georgerussel: babygirl

georgerussel: thanks for the tea y/n! Beautiful song from a beautiful soul ❤️ we miss you

↳ yourusername: I miss you too 💔

↳ carlossainz55: wish you could come back some time again :(

shawnmendes: I cried I sobbed I screamed I died

sabrinacarpenter: the best artist of all time iloveu bestie ❤️‍🩹

User673: CHARLES LIKED 😭😭😭😭

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── .✦ FIN

Hope you liked it guys 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[theprettynosferatu]

New Girl

CW: Lezdom, light elements of ageplay, hucow, 24/7 service

I - Arrival

Vicky took the news the same way she took everything that came from her Mistress: with a mixture of complete acceptance, anticipation, and the need to do her absolute best to please, to be of use to that marvelous, superior being. Her body almost shivered, but Vicky stopped it in time. She had been trained to perfection, and now, naked on all fours, her Mistress’ perfect feet resting on her back, she knew she would not -could not- move. She was a footstool, not a person. She always was whatever Lucía desired her to be, nothing more and nothing less. Still, she could feel a warm sensation between her legs when she thought of what was to come. She didn’t know if it was her own mind teasing her or the prospect of further obedience- her Mistress’ desires and her own needs were one and the same, her reactions impossible to distinguish from what had been trained into her. That’s why the news made perfect sense.

A part of Vicky wondered, her Mistress’ statement echoing in her mind. 

“A new girl will come here. Not like you, of course. You are my property, fully and forever. No, this girl belongs to someone else. An old friend of mine. Apparently, she has something of a rebellious streak- and I’ve been hired to make her… well, as obedient as you. And you, my doll, will assist me. She will obey me, to learn her true place. Her true self.”

Vicky felt something like pride- if objects could feel pride, that is. Of course Mistress Lucía was the greatest at turning girls into the best, most obedient, most perfectly trained version of themselves. That someone would pay her for the service was only a testament to her skill. But then again, Vicky was Lucía’s masterpiece: and in that perfect obedience, in that need to serve and please above anything else, she found her pride. Vicky was an object. A perfectly crafted object. How could she not feel a tad prideful about that? 

She did wonder, however, about the girl that would arrive soon. How did some “rebel” end up in the service of an older Mistress? What need did she seek to fulfill by her servitude? The shifting of her Mistress’ feet on her back snapped her back into reality. She was a footstool. Furniture did not think.

The following day, Vicky was getting everything ready. Wearing her maid’s uniform, which showed off her ample cleavage -enhanced by surgery to make her look like the stupid bimbo she was inside- she got the drinks ready. Alcohol for the Mistresses… and fruit juice for the new girl, as commanded by Lucía.

“She needs to understand she’s a girl. Only her superiors are real women. Time for her to accept that”, Lucía had said. Even in her casual clothes, jeans and a blouse, she shined in an imposing way that made it clear that the statement wasn’t an expression of desire but a promise of what was to come. 

The bell rang and Vicky dutifully opened the door, kneeling in front of the classy, modestly dressed in perfectly tasteful black, imposing older woman; thus signaling her own role as a slave to be used. The woman barely deigned to look at Vicky as she made her way in, a young woman one step behind her. Vicky, who should have been looking at the floor, couldn’t help herself and she took a glance at the newcomer.

The first thing that struck Vicky was the girl’s hair. It almost didn’t seem real, with its fiery red hues reaching almost to down to the waist, its coppery sheen and its swaying fullness. It somehow made her imposing, like a conquering queen engulfed by the flames of victory. Her short, white sundress with little pink hearts did a good job signaling what was hidden beneath it. Vicky had to confess to herself that, yes, she was a bit jealous. Sure, the new girl also had big dumb bimbo tits and a face that contrasted with them by its innocence- almost as if she embodied both the saintly virgin and the corrupt whore in one body, but that hair… for some reason it made Vicky feel something strange, dark deep inside her. Something like a need to see this girl broken. Well, her Mistress would take care of that.

“Rose”, the regal, older woman said. “My girl. For the next few weeks you will obey Mistress Lucía as you would obey me. You will serve her and learn everything she teaches you. You will be remade into the perfect girl for your Mommy. And you do want to be better for Mommy, don’t you?”

A second passed. Vicky could see something like defiance flash for a second behind Rose’s eyes, before she responded.

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Well, little Rose”, said Lucía taking a step towards her new pupil, “let’s see what I’m working with. Disrobe.”

Rose turned to look at the older woman, but Lucía stopped her with a sharp tone.

“No. Don’t look at her. Look at me. She was quite clear, was she not? You are to obey me until you are good enough to return to your Mommy. So, disrobe. Now.”

And there it was again. That little flash of defiance. Pride. Vicky could feel something growing inside her. How dared this girl not accept her place as inferior to their Goddess? Finally, she complied, and Lucía walked around her slowly, carefully, studying every inch of her naked body. It certainly was a body to behold- even Vicky had to admit that. Lucía, however, looked less than impressed.

“I see”, she said as she squeezed Rose’s naked skin, caressed it, analyzed it like a cattle buyer evaluating a new cow in their barn. “That pretty face, so innocent- and those big, slutty tits of yours… they must have been very useful in your life. Is that it? I’m sure so many people, so many men treated you like a princess… let you get away with doing whatever you pleased. That’s it, isn’t it? So what happened? You got bored, didn’t you? Bored with people treating you like a fucking queen. And you need to be treated as what you are, even if a part of you still feels you deserve better. Well… you don’t. Vicky, get up and come here. We are going to remind this cunt of a few simple facts.”

Like a puppet, Vicky leaped to her feet. Lucía’s orders were absolute.

“That pretty, pretty face… Vicky, slap her. Hard.”

The blonde bimbo’s hand moved before she could even process the command. She had never inflicted pain on someone else- and yet, something inside her drove her to put all her strength into that slap, to wipe the pride off the little bitch’s face, to show her the power of their Mistress. Maybe in another time she might have felt bad about it, but now… it had been an order, and Vicky obeyed. That was all that mattered.

Shock barely had time to set in Rose’s eyes before a second command came.

“Slave… play with this uppity cunt. Show her she’s just tits and holes, and a slave to both.”

That was something Vicky excelled at. She had been trained to perfection, after all. It was her purpose, deep down. To bring pleasure. She knew how to feel a body, how to pinpoint the weakest points, the places that sent shivers down the spine, she knew how to caress, tease, vary pressure, motion and speed to get a pussy nice and wet… and she went at the prideful redhead like an animal. Lucía watched as the first moans escaped her trainee’s lips and, almost with a whisper, started going deep inside her mind, choosing her words carefully.

“See how easy it is? You really think you have any sort of power? Of control? Silly little girl, your body is screaming the truth at you, and you’re too fucking dumb to understand it! It needs you to serve. It wants you to obey. It feels so, so good when you’re being used, doesn’t it? Because it’s what it was made for. You have those big, stupid tits because you were born to be a fuckdoll. That’s all you’ll ever be. All you ever need to be.”

Vicky’s skilled fingers could feel the effect her Mistress’ words were having on the newcomer. The girl was getting soaked, her muscles relaxing, slowly letting go.

“You think you deserve better? That you are more than just a toy for me to play with whenever I wish? Why? Because you are oh, so pretty? Bad news, sweetie: you are a fucktoy and a flawed one at that. You think I didn’t notice how your fucking ass sags? How your legs are too thick? Do you really believe you are so perfect? You didn’t even shave properly! No, you dumb slut. You are just a piece of lumpy clay to be molded. And you want to be molded, don’t you? Your body needs it. You need it. You want to accept your place, deep down. You want to be made better. You want to serve. You want to be reshaped into the perfect little empty doll you were born to be. Your cunt is telling you right now! It loves to obey. It loves to be abused. It loves whatever I say it loves…”

Without warning, Lucía struck Rose’s ass as hard as she could- which, Vicky knew from experience, was really hard. A yelp escaped the redhead’s lips.

“Even pain. Can you feel it? Pain and pleasure mixing inside you? How your body can’t tell them apart? That’s because you were born to serve, little Rose. Let your slutty body take over. Listen to it. It’s all you are. It’s what matters. And it needs to obey. It needs to… kneel.”

Lucía placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gently, lovingly yet undeniably pushed towards the ground. Slowly, by inches, Rose found herself going to her knees, her body obeying Lucía almost despite her own will. The way the blonde slave played with her neck, her tits, her pussy… her mind was fuzzy, weak, confused… but her body seemed to know exactly what to do, the feeling of the hand on her shoulder dictating her actions as inevitably as law. When she saw Lucía removing a single shoe, exposing a beautiful foot, she didn’t even need to be told what to do. It was like in a dream: her body went lower, acting on its own, prostrating itself before her superior. It looked like defeat. It looked like a prayer.

The moment Rose’s lips touched that soft foot, her new life began.

II - Improvement

Even Rose had to admit she was having trouble keeping up. Even after two weeks of daily service, she felt as useless as the first day. On the other hand, Vicky seemed unable to feel exhaustion at all. Dressed in identical maid outfits -or rather, tiny tops and skirts that hinted at maid uniforms- they carefully went all over the house making sure every single corner, every shelf, every inch of the floor was immaculate for their Mistress. Rose even started doubting her own eyes: Vicky appeared to see dust in places that looked, to the new girl, perfectly clean… until the blonde maid pointed out the imperfections in the cleaning, and made Rose do it all over again.

That in itself would have been hard enough, but Rose had some added weight to deal with. Literally. The weights affixed to her wrists and legs made walking, going on the floor, reaching for high places a full body exercise. By mid morning she was usually coated with a shining layer of sweat. She hated it, and yet she couldn’t argue with the results. Her body was getting more toned. She was getting slimmer. Her stamina was slowly improving. She thought about that first day, about the words Lucía had drilled into her mind. She was imperfect. That stung- but also lit a fire inside Rose. She would be the best. She would be perfect.

Of course, they were always ready to serve their Mistress whenever she desired, however she desired. Rose thought, before this new training, that she knew what service meant. She did serve her Mommy, after all. But witnessing Vicky’s level of devotion, her utter selfless ability to do anything, to be anything that was desired of her, left Rose somewhere between admiration and pain for her own inadequacy. She could feel that rebellious streak inside herself, and hated it more and more.

She was tired, lost in thought when Lucía walked in, wearing lingerie and sharp, black heels. The girls got into position: on their knees, chests out, staring at the floor. Lucía walked around the room slowly, luxuriating in her own power, before declaring, simply:

“I want to relax.”

She sat down on a beautiful sofa and with a simple gesture summoned Vicky. The bimbo knew exactly what to do, what to be. She rushed to her owner and got on all fours. A shiver went down her spine as she felt the sharp heels on her back. She was a footstool. Nothing more. It was then that Lucía did something new, something Vicky had never seen her do.

She lit a cigarette. 

Rose stared at her temporary Mistress. She had never thought smoking could be sexy, but the way the smoke curled around Lucía’s face, the way her body relaxed with each puff gave her the air of a mysterious, wonderful, terrible goddess. One that fixed her gaze on the new toy.

“Come here. Can’t you see I need an ashtray, you dumb slut?”

Rose felt frozen for a moment. An ashtray? Should she find one? She didn’t remember seeing one in the house. Suddenly she felt cold fear gripping her. Fear of disappointing this perfect woman.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? I said come here.”

Rose did as she was told, and crawled towards Lucía. 

“Good. Now, on your back.”

Rose obeyed. It felt good to have such simple instructions.

“I suppose you’re too brainless to realize you’re too low to be a good ashtray, so I’ll spell it out for you once. Feet flat on the ground. Hands over your head. Now, arch your back. Bridge position.”

It was difficult. It hurt to maintain the position. And yet something took over Rose. A sort of… peace. She didn’t need to think. She didn’t need to do anything but be in the moment. Be the ashtray. Be useful. Every bit of ash that was deposited on her bellybutton only filled that need to serve more and more. Even as her muscles shook, there was nothing else in the world, nothing but the perfect sensation of being an object for her Mistress. She briefly wondered if Vicky got to feel like that all the time.

Rose couldn’t tell how long it took. Logically, it must have been a few minutes. To her, it was both a second and a lifetime. She snapped back to the present when she heard Lucía’s voice casually giving a command and getting up to enjoy the show.

“Vicky, clean the ashtray.” 

The blonde slave did as she was told. Her tongue felt warm on Rose’s skin, and somehow the living ashtray felt as if this was an honor- one she had been granted without deserving it. She felt gratitude. She felt joy. She felt empty and blissful. 

She would do everything to feel like that again.

III - Metamorphosis

After a month of training, Rose believed she knew, truly, the essence of service. She believed that inner spark of rebellion, which still lingered, could be managed. She believed she understood the full nature of her role.

All these things she believed mistakenly.

It was on one particularly warm night that she learned just how deep her inadequacy ran. Lucía had summoned Vicky alone a little while back, and Rose could do nothing but wait for her to be needed. She needed that. She needed to be useful. When she was finally called into the living room, she had no way to know what was awaiting her.

Vicky was tied to a wooden structure Rose didn’t recognize yet was weirdly familiar-  it was certainly not one of the instruments Lucía had used on her or the blonde slut. However, its purpose became quickly apparent, and Rose understood where she had seen such things. It was a variation of farming equipment. More specifically, to keep cows still when they were being milked. 

It was then that a few things clicked into place. Specifically, the mysterious medication Vicky took every day. Rose had asked, worried that her role model might need help; but Vicky had only given her a smile and a simple “you’ll see when you are ready.”

Well, she was seeing it now. Lucía was walking around her bound cow, a whip in hand. Casually, almost as an afterthought, she squeezed one of Vicky’s breasts, and warm milk shot into a small bucket, placed right under her udders. What was most strange was that along with a soft moan, Vicky said simply:

“Moooo!”

Rose understood then what true devotion meant. What true service meant. Even when her mistresses whipped her firm ass, the blonde cow only mooed, as if her brain was only capable of being, fully, a cow for her owner. Lucía looked at Rose and smiled.

“Are you starting to see? Come here, cunt. Time for you to feed.”

She understood instantly. She didn’t need to be commanded to crawl- that much seemed obvious to Rose. She was a pet. An animal. Nothing more. She went under the bimbo, let her soft lips part and took an engorged nipple into her mouth.

It was heavenly. Milk flowed into her and she felt like nothing more than a child, a stupid, ignorant thing to be educated. Rose sucked and Vicky mooed in pleasure. Their Mistress started whispering into the calf’s ear.

“Do you understand now, you dumb fucktoy? She made her body lactate because I wished her to. Her body is not hers, not even at its most fundamental level. Just like your body is not yours. Your mind is not yours. You are whatever your owner wants you to be. You don’t deserve to be more. You are a living doll, nothing more.”

Rose took it all in. As the warm milk entered her body, Lucía’s words entered her mind. They both felt right. They both felt simple, obvious. And with each word, each mouthful of the wonderful milk, every moo that reached her ears, that spark of rebellion grew smaller and smaller.

“Your owner wants you to be her perfect baby girl. Her empty doll to dress up and turn into whatever she desires. She even chose your entire new aesthetic. Your new personality. But you were too prideful to accept it. Do you still have pride? Do you still have that delusion that you are more than just her fucktoy to do as she wishes?”

Rose couldn’t speak, but a moan told Lucía everything she needed to know. The girl was finally ready.

“Pet, unbind the cow and kneel in the middle of the room. Cow, go to the corner and play with that slutty pussy of yours”

As one, they obeyed. As she waited, kneeling, looking down, Rose was ready for anything. She would do anything. She would accept anything. She would become anything for her Owner. That was all that mattered.

“You need to be made clean. You need to return to nothingness. To go back to zero, so your owner may mold you as she sees fit. And you need to finally let go of the last remaining bit of your pride. You may think it’s not there, but I can smell it in you. I see it behind your eyes, still. But don’t worry, little doll. I will make you perfect.”

The buzz of the electric clippers sent a shiver through Rose’s soul. She didn’t have time to fully process it. Instead, her eyes focused on the empty, rubbing blonde in the corner, moaning her soft mooing. And lock after lock of red head fell before her eyes, almost framing the human cow. As her hair was removed, as she started feeling the air on her scalp, Rose felt emptier and emptier. Whatever was left of her past was disappearing with every strand that landed on the floor. And the emptier she got, the more Vicky rubbed, the louder she mooed. Her will, her dignity, her entire sense of self fell, bit by bit, on that floor.

Soon, she felt completely empty. Completely at peace. Soft and ready to be remade. As Lucía shaved off every bit of hair from her body, Rose felt more and more like a newborn, like a baby, like a being that depended entirely on the will of her superiors.

“Soft and smooth. Perfect to become the little girl your owner wants. But she doesn’t want just any slave toy. No, she wants you to become something very particular… and you will do it, won’t you, doll?”

“Yes, Mistress Lucía.”

The words escaped Rose’s lips without her even thinking it.

IV - Graduation

Vicky had set the stage perfectly. At the command of Lucía, she had purchased colored lights to give the ceremony a bit of ambiance, and she had chosen the finest champagne for the women to celebrate. Champagne, she knew, she didn’t deserve to taste.

The older, regal woman sat comfortably, ready to see her new property. Lucía was confident in what she had achieved, and had Vicky between her legs, serving her perfect pussy as she chatted with her friend, not even paying attention to the dumb blonde that was doing her best to bring her pleasure.

When the time came, Rose entered the room. It was hard to believe this person was the same girl that had come into the house a month or so earlier. In many ways, it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t just the clothing: black leather corset, latex boots with spiked heels, no underwear, her perfectly smooth pussy visible to everyone, a choker around her neck. It wasn’t the makeup: dark, heavy, with black winged eyeliner and deep, red lips. It wasn’t the wig: jet black like a raven’s plumage, glinting with an almost blueish tint. It was the way she moved, the expression on her face, the rebellion that now was just a mask, just an outfit to be worn and changed at her owner’s whim. Her entire being embodied the fantasy of a goth bimbo, a dark yet obedient angel. She embodied that fantasy just as she could embody any fantasy. She was hollow inside, ready to become whatever was required of her. It was time to show, fully, what she had become. Rose smiled with mischief. She went down to the floor and slowly opened her legs before running a finger to show off how soaked her obedient cunt was.

“Mommy…” she pleaded with a voice between a poor, vulnerable girl and a skillful seductress. “Look at me, my Mommy, my Owner, My Goddess. Look at your little girl… I’m so sorry, Mommy… sorry I wasn’t good enough to serve you before. Sorry I didn’t realize sooner what a fucking piece of fuckmeat I am. Sorry I thought I was more than just you fuckdoll, your object, your total slave to do whatever you please, whenever you please! Because that’s all I am, Mommy. I am nothing. I am just whatever you tell me to be. I believe whatever Mommy tells me to believe. I do whatever Mommy tells me to do… anything at all… I don’t exist. I am only holes and tits and slutty lips and an eager tongue… I am your furniture and your plaything and your sex toy and your pain addicted slut! I’ll do anything you say, with anyone you say. Rent me out if you want. Sell me if you get bored of me. Change my tastes, my look, everything about me whenever you wish. I only exist for you, Mommy… I am nothing… I am nothing… I am nothing…”

The girl was right on the edge, but the women knew she wouldn’t cum unless told to. Her face was a mixture of pleasure and pain and complete need for approval. She wasn’t just desperate to serve: she needed to obey just as she needed to breathe. There was nothing else behind her eyes. There certainly was no spark of rebellion left.

Lucía smiled and turned to her friend.

“Money well spent?”

The older woman licked her lips, ready to take home her new, perfect pet.

“The best.” 

V - Mommy Knows Best

The house felt bigger, somehow- or perhaps Rose felt smaller, more like a pet, more like a pretty piece of decoration. As the women entered the living room, Rose instantly went on her knees, head down, chest out, ready to do whatever Mommy desired. She had no other need, no other impulse but to serve and obey. What she didn’t expect was to discover that she indeed still held the capacity for surprise within her heart.

“My slutty little toy…” said Mommy. “Go to your room. There… you’ll know what to do”

“Yes, Mommy”, answered the doll.

Rose crawled to her room. Inside, she saw something she didn’t expect, and yet, that something made perfect sense in her mind. She was empty. She was clay to be molded. And there, neatly placed on the bed, were the garments of her new self. A new self that would last as long as Mommy desired. 

With every garment she put on she felt her demeanor change more and more. She would embody what her Mommy desired fully. She would be her fantasy perfectly. That was what mattered. Mommy didn’t need to tell her who to be. The clothing and the wig made the point exceedingly clear. Rose took a moment to observe her new hair, and all she could do was to admire Mommy’s diligence. Surely her owner had looked at many pictures from long ago- before she had dyed her hair red, before she had been consumed by pride- to perfectly match her natural hair color. It made her feel naked, in a strange way. 

In her bed, Mommy waited, expecting to be delighted- and indeed her wishes came true in the best way possible. When Rose walked into the bedroom, what Mommy saw was not the goth slave that had entered the house a few minutes earlier. No, indeed what she saw was a different person altogether. 

Dressed in her beautiful, short white and pink dress, her knee-high socks, her cute shoes… her hair in two perfect pigtails, her makeup junt hinting at a youthful blush… Rose was everything Mommy could ever dream her to be at that moment. A perfect mixture of pure innocence and the potential for that innocence’s shattering. And her eyes… wide, loving, trusting, bright like the moon. Her smile had the purity of unconditional adoration and the kind of love reserved for those a person would trust their life to. She was the embodiment of the babygirl Mommy had always imagined, while her natural curves added just a bit of perversion, of temptation. It was a role, sure, but one Rose had made entirely hers. At that moment she was that obedient, innocent girl her Mommy desired… and being whatever Mommy desired felt better than anything in the world.

The older woman smiled.

“Give Mommy a hug”, she cooed.

Rose skipped towards her Mommy and launched herself into her arms. She felt safe and happy in a way she couldn’t explain. She felt hands holding her body tight… then slowly roaming over it, caressing it, exploring it… a soft moan escaped Rose’s lips and her Mommy leaped at the opportunity it represented.

“What’s wrong, my doll?”, she asked playfully.

“I feel funny, Mommy”, said Rose, embodying her role to perfection.

“Funny? Where?”

“Down… down there, Mommy…” blushed Rose.

She immediately felt Mommy’s finger brush against her cute cotton panties, and her breathing started to quicken, her heart beating like a drum in anticipation. The finger soon went in front of Rose’s eyes, glistening under the light.

“Look at this, babygirl. Your little pussy is getting so soaked already! You know who gets wet like that? Little sluts, that’s who!”

Rose feigned horror.

“Mommy! I’m sorry… I don’t know why… am I being a bad girl?”

“It’s not your fault, my little doll. Your pussy is just a slutty hole, that likes it when older women touch it. But you need to learn that being a little fucking slut has consequences. And I will teach you.”

“Yes, Mommy. Please make me better! I want to be good, so good for you!”

Almost in the blink of an eye, Rose was face down on the soft bed, her wrists and ankles bound with incredible skill. She wriggled a bit, but was determined to take her punishment like a good girl. She felt as her skirt was slowly lifted, her panties pulled down to her knees. Mommy was taking her time, enjoying every second. 

“Mommy…”, mumbled Rose.

“Shhh. This is for your own good. Slutty girls get punished. You understand that, don’t you, my little toy?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Time stretched into infinity, and every second made Rose’s body become more and more sensitive, ready to fully feel anything Mommy chose to make her feel. The anticipation was making her pussy leave a wet spot on the mattress, and feeling that spot against her skin only made Rose feel like a dumb animal in heat… which only served to make her wetter and wetter… she fought the urge to move, to somehow grind against that mattress that now smelled of her own degradation.

The first stroke of the paddle hit her light lightning. She deserved it. She deserved whatever Mommy chose to do to her. Stroke after stroke, her ass grew so hot it Rose felt she couldn’t take anymore- while knowing she would take anything for Mommy. Pain and pleasure became one and her mind went blank. She was a doll. All she could do was feel, accept, obey.

Before she knew it, Rose’s head was being pushed down into the wet spot on the mattress. She could smell her own perversion, and loved every second of it.

“Lick it clean, pet”, ordered Mommy.

Rose’s body obeyed.  

VI - Cocktail Hour

Once the guests settled in, they couldn’t take their lustful eyes off the maid- and they didn’t try to hide it one bit.

They were all older women, all dressed immaculately in their own style, wearing their best jewelry, their finest garments. This was, after all, a special occasion indeed-, even if they playfully refused to say it out loud. Rose watched Mommy laugh and mingle. God, she was so wonderful. But the girl didn’t have time to gawk: she had to serve, after all.

Rose’s outfit had been crafted with a special artistry. It was a maid’s uniform, sure, and a sexy one at that- but it also had a frilly skirt that hinted at the innocence of a little girl’s favorite dress, knee-high socks with decorative bows on them, and a cute, pink set of panties that peeked from under her skirt with the slightest motion. It was a strategic masterpiece, designed to tease the senses while giving off a certain element of taboo, of a specific perversion. And Rose understood, on a primitive level, exactly what her role in the evening was.

It was a silent dance at first, a game of seduction and restraint. It started with the “accidental” touching of Rose’s ample cleavage as she served drinks, a subtle grazing of her thighs as she walked among the guests, an errant hand brushing against her buttocks. She knew what to do, and ignored the throbbing between her legs that begged her to simply go on her knees and worship these goddesses. She knew she had to be their prey, make herself as oblivious as possible, let them play their role as she played hers.

Soon the guests were abuzz, praising Mommy for her wonderful babygirl. “So cute!”, they said. “So well-behaved!”, they cooed. None of them said out loud what they were really thinking when they looked at Rose. Seeing Mommy’s keen approval of their praises, they took a step towards their goal.

“Come here, you sweet thing!”, one said, patting her lap. Rose did as she was told, her every movement a dance of simple, pure innocence. She sat on the guest’s lap and pretended to ignore the way the guest’s eyes were drawn to her breasts, the way her hand roamed from her waist to her thigh, the way the guests took in the scent of her neck. It was hard to keep her own pussy in check, to keep playing her role- but she’d be what Mommy wanted her to be.

“No fair!”, whined another guest. “You can’t keep such a sweet thing all to yourself!”

The new guest gestured Rose to go to her, and the doll, like a pet, skipped to where she was told to go. This woman was bolder than the first. Her slender fingers brushed against the cotton panties, and Rose failed to hold back a soft sigh. The woman smiled and whispered: “Does that feel good, little doll?”. Rose could only nod her head. She could feel her thinking becoming more and more blurry and fuzzy, weakened by the eyes on her, the way her body was being used simply as entertainment. When another guest called her over, she started moving before she even realized what she was doing.

Among the cocktails, the conversations, the laughs, Rose was passed around from older woman to older woman. She just let them do whatever they wished with her. That was her only purpose. Some fondled her big tits. Some focused on her pussy, skillfully pushing her panties aside. Some preferred to caress her legs, her face, her lips. Rose was on fire yet completely powerless inside. She was just a doll. The words echoed in her mind. Just a doll to be played with, dressed up, turned into whatever Mommy desired. And Mommy chose who got to play with her doll.

It was as if someone had lit up something inside Rose’s brain. Her body was more sensitive than ever, almost as if every inch of her skin was as wonderfully receptive to pleasure as her clit. Soon she was shaking, trying to hold back the need to kiss these women’s feet, moaning softly like some dumb, horny animal. The women could see Rose’s arousal, smell her vulnerability. They too held back as much as they could, but the air itself was thick with the scent of sex, the primal desire to conquer, to possess, to use. They all knew the little game could not last much longer- and indeed, it didn’t.

It started with a spank. Not a playful one: a strong, firm, painful slap right on Rose’s right buttcheek. That one act caused her to moan loudly, lustfully, signaling to everyone that the babygirl was ripe for the taking. It was as if a dam had collapsed. 

Rose was pushed to the ground. It felt right, to be lower than all these superior beings. Whatever they chose to do to her, she would accept with all her heart. She deserved nothing more. She was no longer a person, and she knew she’d never go back to pretending she was worthy of anything more than what real people desired of her.

As she felt hands ripping her clothes off, grabbing her body in a frenzy, turning her into just a piece of fuckmeat, Rose felt, more than ever, that she was home. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu and get access to the full library! Every bit truly helps :D

[dakota1435]

Moonlight – Vampire!Sylus X Reader ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

word count: 2K (short)

tags: mention of violence

previous chapters here! x

Chapter 8

You don’t dare to draw a single breath. Those who were originally looking now turned away, knowing this was Sylus’ business now. For a second, it felt like time was frozen. Nobody moves, even Sylus. Caleb was going to get himself killed, all because he came to ‘save’ you. You still didn’t understand how he knew you’d be here, with Sylus. How he even knew somebody like Sylus in the first place. You exhale shakily, trying to calm your nerves. Your lips part, about to speak, before Caleb inserts himself. Not good!

“What have you done to her?” There’s emphasis on each word, through gritted teeth. Never in your life have you seen this side of Caleb. Despite Sylus’ overwhelming presence, Caleb doesn’t back down on his death glare.

“To think someone like you came all the way here…You must have quite the confidence to take what’s mine?” Sylus said, his voice calm and collected. You could feel the pressure of his hand on you tighten a bit. Internally, he must be seething. 

“She’s not yours!” Caleb yelled back, uncaring for the situation unfolding. You had to say something, you had to get him out of here. Out of every possible outcome, it would be the best course of action. Caleb looks at you, hesitant. 

“Um…Caleb…Please. You should leave,” you beckoned, your hands shaking by your side. Your voice doesn’t feel as strong as theirs. Clearing your throat, you speak again. “Caleb. I’ve been safe. I promise.” You hope he takes you seriously. He looks at you, astonished, before returning to the same angered expression. 

“He’s brainwashed you! He’s bit you, hasn't he? After all these years of protecting you, I am not going to give up. He’s been trying to find you this whole time.” Caleb doesn’t give you a chance to react before he speaks again. “He’s a monster. He’s trying to turn you into a monster, too. Listen, there’s so much you don’t know. So much I haven’t told you. But trust me when I say–”

“You have a lot of nerve to stand in front of me. The only reason you’re still breathing is because of her. I suggest you leave, now, before I do something about it,” Sylus warned Caleb, his grasp feeling tighter on you. Oh, he was definitely angry now. Caleb’s words ring in your head, making you question too many things. But no matter how it made you dizzy, you had to do damage control now before there was bloodshed. Seeing how Caleb is now, you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to fight Sylus. Worst of all, you knew Sylus would win against a human within the blink of an eye. 

“Stop!” You called out, the first thing you could think of. You turn to look back at Sylus. His eyes glared and his expression troubled. “Let’s leave,” you muttered to him. Your face pleaded you didn’t want to experience another moment of this. Even if it meant leaving Caleb, again. Forever, this time you’re sure. It broke your heart, but there was nothing else that could be done. Caleb heard your words, his mouth open with shock. He doesn’t say anything. Sylus calms himself at your words, removing his hand on you. 

“Very well,” he said, his voice rather curt. He leans down close to your ear, his eyes still burning onto Caleb. “Hold tight.” He wraps his hand around your waist. You spare Caleb another look before Sylus takes you, vanishing within a second. 

For a moment, you thought you saw Caleb reach out. It was too late. 

As quick as disappearing, you and Sylus arrive back at his estate with ease. But the event, the entirety of tonight, made you feel sick. You hunch over, for fear of actually getting sick. Your mind and everything around you spins uncontrollably. How? Why? Why?

“Sylus…” You began speaking. A part of you was afraid to meet his eyes. Was he angry? Did he think you knew about Caleb coming? Your mind suddenly recalled Caleb’s words; he’s been looking for you. 

He rests his heavy hand onto your back. It felt…supportive. “It seems I can’t let this kitten out of my sight,” he said, his tone amused. You were relieved he didn’t sound angry anymore, but it still didn’t put you at ease. Your dress was uncomfortable now, your jewelry feeling heavy. The choker around your neck felt suffocating. When you didn't respond immediately, Sylus spoke again. “Are you hurt?” 

“No…I just…I don’t understand anything right now,” you said quietly. Your face flushes with heat and suddenly you feel like you could cry. You couldn’t recognize your own emotions and it made you feel like a foreigner in your own body. You still don’t look at Sylus, hesitant to show him such raw emotion. You begin to walk away, expecting Sylus to stop you. But he doesn’t, instead he watches you go to your room. You change, the weight of tonight’s clothes bearing the turmoil of what happened. Slipping into something more loose and comfortable, you decide you will ask Sylus your questions. You leave the room and expect Sylus to be in his dining room. As you walk, you try to gather the questions in your head. You won’t let him be vague this time, because there’s something definitely going on. 

You push open the heavy doors of the room, finding Sylus gazing out of his massive window. He couldn’t be more beautiful in the moonlight, but he doesn’t turn at your arrival.

“We need to talk,” you said with newfound confidence. You needed answers. Your heart raced, never speaking to Sylus in this way before. 

“Oh? What about?” He still stared at the window. You figured he was still irritated over Caleb. You sigh, walking over to him as he sits in his large leather chair. He glances up at you, something playful in his face flickers for a moment. He liked seeing you stand before him. 

“I need answers. Caleb said you have been looking for me forever. I asked you if you were the reason I was put up at auction and you said no!” Your voice raises, frustration bubbling inside of you. Whatever feelings you had that you buried were now coming alive. You didn’t like it, you didn’t feel like yourself. Sylus cocks an eyebrow, surprised at your energy. 

“I don’t lie like mortals do,” he sneered, “I have been looking for you, yes. I only found you because of the auction. I had no part in any of it.” He still stares at you from his chair, watching you unfold. That familiar feeling of pressure forms in your face again, tears urging in your eyes. It was almost equally embarrassing and frustrating. 

“How does Caleb know you?” You clenched your fists, trying to control your emotions. 

“I don’t know him personally. I know he’s been with you since you were a child. My name is everywhere, though. It does not surprise me,” he said, matter-of-fact. He was starting to be vague again, the one thing you were not going to let him do. He notices your hand tightly closed and gently touches your hand with the back of his fingers. You started to question everything, you backed away from his touch. He didn’t like that. “I was going to ease you into things, but it looks like that man ruined it,” he said, sounding disgusted. He waits for your reaction for a second, then grabs your wrist. “Sit. You will want to sit for this.” You don’t protest as he pulls you into his lap. You adjust, sitting comfortably. He strokes your cheek, tenderly, as if to prepare for what’s to come. 

“He is right; I have been looking for you. He’s done a very good job at hiding you, until recently.” Sylus hold on you is possessive. He speaks slowly, letting each word sink into your mind. “That man was against your former profession, wasn’t he? He could no longer keep you away. You’ve wanted to know the unknown, haven’t you?” Sylus was right. Caleb was like your brother, but easily overbearing. When you took on your new job, going on missions, he was unsupportive. Little did you know that Caleb knew Sylus would get 

you. 

“Why…” is all you could mutter out. Your life from the start felt like a lie, and you weren’t sure what to believe. Your eyes said it all. 

Sylus wears a troubled expression. “I don’t expect you to believe me. Trust me when I say I do not lie.” He takes a breath, making you nervous. “Long ago, there was an experimental research factory. They discovered aether cores and used human subjects, as young as five.” 

          He pauses, his words slow and concise. Your stomach churns, as your brain tries to fill in the gaps.

        “I was one of their subjects. They were cruel, and inhumane. They wanted to create a human with power, strength. Countless humans died and I happened to be the one to survive. I came out, exceeding their expectations. They made me an artificial vampire, whether that was their only goal or not, I survived.” The silence after his words were heavy, almost deafening. You continued to listen as hearing Sylus speak of himself was rare. “I was unstable, uncontrollable. I escaped, leaving myself to the horrors of the new world. The organization of vampires knew about these experiments—them being heavily against it. They found me and made me who I am today.”

“What about the research facility?” You questioned. Your mind thought about all of the possible pain and torture Sylus went through, at such a young age too. 

“Nobody, including myself, would predict my capabilities. I was stronger than a human, yes, but found myself to be more powerful than a pureblooded vampire. I took that power and ascended. I returned to the facility, knowing they still continued with their research. I single handedly killed every member of that facility and burned their notes.” Sylus stares at his fingertips, as if reminiscing the blood stains. “There were only a few human subjects this time. Two of them were beyond saving, but there was one human left; you.” He gently touches your side, his comfort minimal but it kept you in reality. 

Upon hearing this, you couldn’t believe it but deep down in your gut you knew Sylus was telling the truth. If you were standing, your knees would’ve fallen weak. You run your hands through your face and hair, making sure you are still real. That, all of your entire life, was real. When Sylus stopped speaking, you could hear your heartbeat drum in your ears. You could tell Sylus was still trying to ease you into it all, trying not to overwhelm you, but you were already at that point. 

“…Tell me everything,” you said, voice muffled as you lay your face in your hands. 

“You were the youngest subject they ever had; you were born with an aethor core inside of you. You grew up in the lab healthy, alive. It seemed that you weren’t displaying any change but before I did anything, the lab was raided by government officials. I withdrew, immediately knowing you would be taken somewhere better,” he explained. He clenches his jaw as his eyes burn into yours. 

Your world was cracking around you and you felt heavy with confusion. Your brain tried remembering a shred of anything, any form of memory or feeling of being at a lab. You were raised by your grandmother until she passed, and your older childhood friend Caleb was around after that. How could it be possible? The same thing that created Sylus was buried in you, somewhere. The same thing that made him desire blood and crush anything in his way. The thought of all of it made you tremble out of fear and anxiety. 

“...You have been monitored by government officials your whole life. They feared I would come back to finish you off, but I have been searching for you because we are the same. I want to show you the potential you have, not those selfish fools.” Sylus strokes his hand down your hair tenderly and his actions ground you to reality.

Everything is falling out from your feet, your brain scattered with anxious thoughts– answers you’ll never know. It’s too much, too much, too much.

We are the same.

[loveesiren]

Champagne & Sunshine (Pt. 4)

JJ Maybank x Reader

a/n: okay so maybe this wasn't as bad as I thought? Idk, it's been so long since I posted any new work so I'm still working back in to my feral energy lol. but i had this written up soooo long ago and just never posted it so here is part 4. I'm ready to just move forward lol. I hope you guys enjoy! I'll do better next time.

warnings: smut smut smut, deepthroating, language, angst, also the POV goes back and forth? sorry, I wrote this so long ago

word count: 3.8k+

You rolled over to where the sun burned your eyes and you cringed. Forever forgetting to shut the blinds. You could feel JJ’s arm draped over you and the events of last night came flooding back. You had sex with your best friend.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. JJ was pretty as fuck. But he was also your best friend. The best friend you were pining over since the day you met him. Were you together now? Was it a one night stand? Shit, you could use Marley’s advice right now. 

JJ’s POV

I’m fucking terrified to move. My arm is resting on her hip and it feels so right being there. But I spent the night inside my best friend and now I’m terrified that she’s going to leave. What exactly do I do in this situation?

Her hair is flowing beautifully into my face. She smells like pineapples and champagne like she always does. I never want this moment to end and I am frozen in fear. I lightly inhaled her scent, wanting to savor it forever. She stirred and sat up. Fuck. What do I do? Do I pretend to sleep?

She got up and went to her bathroom, closing the door behind her. I run my hands over my face and contemplate every life decision I’ve ever made. I just had sex with my dream girl and now I’m scared I’ll lose her forever. She was vulnerable. Her sister is in the hospital and I fucking took advantage of her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey, Jayj?” Her sweet voice echoed from the otherside of the room. 

I turned on my side and covered myself with her bedsheets. “What’s up?”

I noticed she was naked. She leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to join me?” Hollyyyyy shit. She still wanted me. Play it cool.

“Uh, yeah babe,” Babe???? I hopped out of bed and walked towards her slower than I had anticipated. She offered her hand and I took it, following her to the shower. 

We both stepped in silently, letting the double shower heads run over us. She turned around and grabbed her body wash. “Could you get my back?” She asked as she handed it to me.

“Of course!” She turned around and moved her long hair over her shoulder. I began rubbing the soap over her back and I could feel myself growing at the contact. Her skin was perfectly golden and I wanted nothing more than to kiss it. But I held back.

She turned to me. “Thank you,” She said in that honey coated voice that made my knees weak. She turned and began to wash the rest of her body. My eyes were fixed on her. 

“Y/n, look at me.” She paused for a moment. I don’t know where the demand came from. She turned and looked at me, yesterday’s makeup running down her face. Her big Bambi eyes staring into my soul with both sadness and need. “Can I touch you?”

She gave a half smile and stepped closer to me, moving my arms to wrap around her hips. She placed her arms gently on my shoulders and looked up into my eyes. “JJ, you made me feel so good last night.” 

I was growing harder, I knew it was pressing into her now. But she seemed to like it. I met her eyes. “Yeah?” Was all I could manage. I ran a hand down her thigh and brought her leg up to wrap around my waist. She panted. I gained some confidence in this moment. I moved my other hand down her thigh. “Give me the other one,” I demanded and she obliged, hopping up and clinging to me for support. 

“This what you want?” I asked. She shook her head in desperate need. “Use your words.”

“Please J, need you inside me.” She begged.

“Good girl,” I told her as I held her up and positioned myself at her entrance. I held her hips as I slid her down on my cock. Her nails dug into my neck as she held on. She shook slightly as she adjusted to me being inside her once again. “This okay, baby?”

“Yes,” She panted. “Please make love to me.”

I kept one hand under her and the other found its way to her hair as I pressed her up against the tile wall. My forehead pressed against hers as I thrusted into her. 

Y/n’s POV

My parents weren't home. Neither was Marley. I was so worried about her. I would go see her later. I would. And I would tell her about this. About the way JJ was fucking me into the wall right now. 

I had my hand wrapped tightly in his blonde locks, his teeth buried in my shoulder as he fucked me ruthlessly. I panted as his head slid against my walls. I clenched around him and when he felt my teeth sink into him, he flipped.

We both fell to the shower floor, his cock still buried deep inside me. I let go and threw my head back. JJ kept one hand on my hip to guide me while he laced his other hand through my fingers for support. He was on the floor, water splashing in his face while I rode his dick. He brought his other hand to my clit and rubbed small circles. It felt so fucking good. 

“That feel good, baby girl?” He asked. 

“Yes, please don’t stop!” I begged. He continued to massage my clit as he thrusted up into me. I couldn’t help my eyes rolling back as I moaned loudly.

JJ’s POV

I looked up at her beautiful face as she rode my cock. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I ran my thumb through her folds. She was so soft and to see the way she melted at my touch was sending me over the edge. I didn’t think I could hang on much longer. And then she did it. She came. I made her cum. She collapsed on me, vibrating uncontrollably as I felt her release around me. I couldn’t control it and I came inside her. It felt so good. So right. 

She whimpered a few more times as she rode out her high, and I pushed into her slowly.

Eventually, we both became still and I played with the tips of her hair as I always did when I was anxious. My cock still buried deep inside her. 

She sat up and looked down at me. “Uhm..can we go see Mars?” 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Let’s get dressed,” I offered. She clutched my chest as I slowly grasped her hips and slipped her off me. I tried to control myself, focusing on her perfect face, but her expression was equally as sad as I left her body.

We both finished up showering and hopped out, she ran to her closet and threw on a simple outfit. Shorts and a Nirvana tee. She tossed me some of my clothes and I put them on quickly before handing her her bag.

Y/n’s POV

You stepped outside and remembered you had no car. You hair was a rats nest between tossing and turning all night and JJ fucking you relentlessly. But You didn’t care. You just wanted to see your sister.

“I guess we’re walking.” JJ said and you smiled beneath your hair. 

“Guess so,” You chuckled. 

The two of you began your journey in silence. Walking side by side as you made your way to the hospital. You had no idea what to say to JJ. Your mind was torn. You wanted to make sure Marley was okay but you also hooked up with JJ twice and it was all running through your mind.

“Y/n, I-” JJ began but was quickly cut off by your ringtone.

You pulled your phone out and saw it was your mother calling. 

“Hello?!” You answered quickly 

“Y/n! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, mom. Me and JJ are on our way to the hospital. How’s Marley?”

“Oh good. She’s fine. She’s up and eating. She’s asking for you.”

“Tell her I’ll be there in like 30 minutes.”

“Will do. See you soon, baby.”

You hung up the phone. “Mars is awake.”

JJ took a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” He said. “Let’s get you there. I know she’s missing her sister.”

You smiled at him and moved forward. In silence. 

-

You finally arrived at the hospital and you rushed through the doors. You approached the front desk and asked “Where’s Marley y/l/n? I’m her sister.”

The nurse was friendly enough and directed you to her room. JJ followed close behind. You both busted through the door to see Marley sitting up and eating breakfast. 

“Mars!” You yelled, dropping your bag to the floor and running towards her. 

She smiled as she embraced you in a hug. JJ smiled from the door. 

Your mom and dad patted him on the shoulder as they stepped out of the room. “We’ll go get you all some food.” 

JJ just smiled and made his way to the other side of the room, plopping down on the couch and resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you and Marley catch up. 

“Are you okay? Feeling better?” You asked. 

“Yes. Much better. They gave me anti-venom and some pain killers and they said I can leave this afternoon.” Marley told you.

You couldn’t help the tears in your eyes. “I’m so sorry this happened, Mars…”

Marley scoffed. “Don’t be a little bitch, it’s not your fault.” She laughed as she ate her toast. “Hey J!” She said.

“Hey Mars!” 

“I’d love to get the fuck out of here and smoke a joint.” You laughed at Marley’s boldness and gave JJ the puppy dog eyes, silently begging him to go pick up your car so you could talk to Marley alone.

JJ laughed. “Of course, Mars.” He said, leaning over and placing a kiss on her forehead. “Glad you’re okay.”

JJ left and Marley went back to her breakfast. You gave it about thirty seconds before you freaked out on Marley. You grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard.

“Holy fuck, what?!” She asked.

“Me and JJ slept together!”

“You guys sleep together every night,” Marley said matter-of-factly.

“No, Mars. We slept together.” 

Marley dropped her food. “Are you fucking serious?!”

“Yes!”

You watched the smile spread across her face. “How was it?” She asked.

“It was…perfect.” 

-

JJ brought your car to the hospital. Marley insisted on riding home with you guys but your parents wouldn’t have it. They trusted you and JJ but they didn’t want to let Marley out of their sight for the next few days.

“We’ll meet you at home, Mars. We’re gonna pick up the pizza!” You told her as you hugged her goodbye. 

“Pepperoni and onion,” She demanded. “Don’t be late,” She said with a wink. 

JJ was driving your car and you climbed into the passenger seat. “Okay, let’s go pick up the pizza.” 

“I don’t have to come over.” JJ said.

“What? Why wouldn’t you come over?”

JJ shrugged. “You guys need family time.”

You turned in your seat to face him. “J, you are family.” 

JJ looked down at his hands, thinking about something. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why would you make me uncomfortable?”

JJ leaned back and turned his gaze to you. “Can we talk about what happened?”

You took a deep breath and looked back at him. “Yeah, of course. What do you want to talk about?”

“Was it…real? Do you actually want me like that or were you just trying to escape? 

“What do you mean escape?”

“I don’t know, you’ve been through a lot and maybe I was just a crutch…”

“Are you serious right now?!” You yelled. “You think I’m just fucking you as a distraction?!” 

“I didn’t mean-”

“Get out.” You demanded.

“Y/n..”

“Get OUT!” You screamed, bringing your feet up to kick him out the door. He obliged and got out. You slid into the driver's seat and sped off, leaving JJ behind. 

-

You once again sat in your room without JJ. Depressed as fuck. Marley sat beside you as you played reruns of the Kardashians. Luckily, Marley was still tired from her time in the hospital and she smoked a fat joint to herself so she was pretty much out and wasn’t in the headspace to bother you about your phone blowing up. 

You finally decided to check the 17 texts and 8 missed calls from JJ. His last text asking you to meet him at the Boneyard tonight. It was a Monday so not many people would be there.

You laid back and thought for a moment. You concluded that the two of you should talk. But absolutely no sex. 

I’ll be there at 10. You responded. 

Marley was full on snoring by 9:30. You snuck out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts and hoodie. You knew your parents were still up and you didn’t feel like explaining the situation to them so you crawled out your window and climbed down the side of the house before taking off towards the Boneyard. 

You walked slowly onto the sand. Making out the silhouettes of a few couples making out on the beach. You scanned the Boneyard until your eyes landed on the Twinkie. You took a deep breath and approached the van, knocking on the window lightly. 

The door slid open and JJ sat before you. His hair a mess and his cut off tee barely clinging to his skin. 

“Come in, m’lady.” He said softly, gesturing you into the van. 

You rolled your eyes and climbed in, allowing him to shut the door behind you. 

You sat in the corner, hugging your knees as you waited for him to initiate the conversation. 

“Want a beer?” He asked, holding a can in your direction. You took it silently and rolled it around in your hands. “Y/n…look, I’m sorry…” He began. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings-”

“Then why did you?!” You snapped. 

“I got scared!” He started. “I was scared, okay?” He said sadly as he fell back. “I-I…I’m not good enough for you. And you were going through a hard time and I feel like I took advantage of you and I just don’t-”

“Took advantage of me? JJ, you did nothing wrong.” You told him. “What happened…I wanted it. I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

“Really?” He asked, slightly surprised.

“Yeah…” 

JJ looked down at hir beer and chewed on his cheek, unsure of what to say next.

You leaped forward and pressed your lips to his. Intertwining your fingers into his blonde locks. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. His tongue danced with yours as if his life depended on it. You told yourself you weren’t going to do this but it was as if you had no control over your body. You needed him.

“Fuck, Y/n…” He pulled back, fingers still wrapped in your hair. “I love you.”

You sat up for a moment. “You…love me?”

JJ looked defeated. He ran his eyes over your body and looked back up to meet yours. “Yeah. I fucking do.”

You took in a shaky breath before ripping your clothes off. JJ matched your actions. You were completely bare in front of him and all he had left was his boxers. 

“Take them off,” You demanded.

“I will,” He said. “But first I need to taste you..” He said, propping you up on the back seat and spreading your legs wide open. Your pussy glistening for him. 

He wrapped his arms under your thighs and pulled you to his mouth. The tip of his tongue exploring your folds. You were at a loss for words and gripped the headrest behind you as JJ shoved his tongue into you. 

You brought one hand down to clutch his hair as you thrust your hips to match his tongue. “Fuck J-”

He flattened his tongue to devour your entire clit and you almost cried. You were ready to cum but you didn’t want to yet.

“JJ!” you yelled. 

He looked up at you from between your thighs. He looked so happy there. 

“JJ…I need you inside me. I want to cum together…”

JJ smiled and gently slid your legs off his shoulders. He stood up and rid himself of his boxers. 

His cock sprung free in front of your face and you questioned how it fit inside you before. But it had you drooling. “Can I suck it first?”

He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look up at him. “Only if you want to, Barbie.” He teased.

You melted at his words and stared into his eyes as you spit on his cock. You smiled before taking his tip into your mouth. Running the tip of your tongue over his glans and the way his knees buckled made you feel amazing. You wanted to be his whore and his lover at the same time. 

“JJ, will you fuck my face until you cum and then take care of me?” You asked, looking up at him with your bambi eyes.

“You sure you want that, baby?” He asked. 

“Please…I want your cock hitting the back of my throat…”

“Okay…pinch me if you want me to stop…” He said before he lined his cock back at your mouth. You opened wide, eyes fixed up on his as he slowly slid his cock back in your mouth. He began slowly, pushing himself as far back as he could and clutching your hair tighter when you gagged. He began moving faster and the sounds coming from your throat made it almost impossible to stop. You looked up at him with your big doe eyes, giving him permission to go harder. And so he did. He watched as saliva seeped out the sides of your mouth. You gripped his hips, forcing him deeper down your throat. You coughed and gagged but you could tell he was close. Fuck breathing. 

JJ gripped your hair tighter as he forced his cock further down your throat. You could feel his warm seed trickling down and you moaned. Until it started seeping out your nose and you could not breathe anymore. You pinched his thigh and he immediately pulled out. He watched as you toppled over on all fours, spitting up his cum and trying to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I’m-”

“Fuck me,” You managed between breaths. 

“What?”

“Fuck me!” You demanded. 

JJ got behind you and put his tip to your folds, enjoying the slick that coated his cock. You panted as he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly pushed into you. You let out an animalistic whine as you adjusted to his size once again. 

JJ pulled you back and sat in the back seat, keeping you firmly on his cock. He brought a finger to your clit, rubbing it gently as his other hand held you firmly in place while he thrusted up into you. 

He pushed you over the edge and your pussy was clenching around his cock as you came. Your eyes rolled back and overstimulation set in. When you were done vibrating. He took his hand from your clit and grabbed both your legs. He propped his legs up on the front seat and held you steady. “I’m going to keep fucking you until I’m done.” He told you before he began thrusting into you harder than ever before. 

Your back was against his chest as he slid his cock in and out of you. Your nails digging into his hips as your eyes began to water at the overstimulation. 

“JJ, it’s too much!” You cried. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.” He panted. “I’m so close and then I’m going to take such good care of you. 

“I-I’m doing good?” You whimpered, feeling yourself about to cum again.

“Yes, baby girl, you're doing so good. I’m going to cum in your tight little pussy right now, okay?” 

“Yes please!” You begged. You could feel him cum deep inside you and it sent you to your own orgasm, squirting all over the van as you both shook in ecstasy. 

You both collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, your skin sticky with sweat. Your mind was wiped blank and your body was filled with euphoria. 

You rolled over and rested your head on JJ’s chest. He ran his fingers up and down your arm as he pulled you closer. You spent a few moments enjoying the rise and fall of his chest.

“John B is gonna be mad,” You giggled as you looked at the state of his van.

“Fuck John B.” JJ laughed. “That was amazing.”

You moved closer to JJ and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you both began to relax. Your eyes grew heavy and your body grew weaker. There was no way you were going home tonight.

“Hey, JJ?”

“Yeah, Barbie?” He asked, his voice hoarse and quiet.

“I love you too,” You whispered.

JJ smiled and wrapped both his arms around you, placing soft kisses on your forehead. You smiled as you drifted off to sleep.

-

“Are you fucking serious?!” John B yelled as he threw the door open to find your two naked bodies piled on the floor of his van. 

You shrieked and quickly scrambled to find your clothes. JJ was quick to pull on his shorts and talk to John B outside the van so you could get dressed. 

“You’re fucking cleaning the Twinkie!”

“I will! Just, let me meet up with you later okay? I’m gonna walk her home.”

You heard the boys talking outside. God fucking dammnit this was awkward. Sex with JJ was so new and the last couple of days have been so intense you hadn’t even thought about your other friends, much less how to break the news that you and JJ were together now. Wait, were you together now? Fuck.

You take a deep breath and then open the door. John B and JJ turned to look at you. You approached them slowly with your head hung low, handing JJ his t-shirt. “Uh, hey John, B…”

“Hey Y/n,” He responded. His voice is softer now. “Do you guys need a ride home?”

“Nope!” You said almost too quickly. “I mean, uhmmm, no thank you. I wanted to walk the beach for a bit.”

“O-Okay,” He responded. “I guess I’ll see you guys later?”

“Yeah, man. Sounds good.” JJ responded, patting him on the shoulder and pushing him off towards the Twinkie. 

You watched as John B drove off. “Holy fuck that was so weird!” 

JJ was gritting his teeth, unsure of what to say. “Y/n, I’m sorry…”

You began giggling, burying your face in the sleeves of your hoodie. “JJ, don’t be sorry! I just wasn’t planning to wake up naked in front of John B!”

“He really has a way of ruining the moment doesn’t he?” JJ laughed as he threw his arm around you, leading you down toward the beach.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged :)

@torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[rhysatlas]

another lifetime, another possibility

ship: Jayce & Viktor rating: T warnings: none, does contain spoilers for all of Arcane, especially act 3.

word count: 1.9k summary: They wake up in a world so familiar and so different at once. They're different now, too.

also on ao3.

a/n: This is the first fic I’ve written for them so I hope I did them justice. This is also the first fic I’ve posted publicly in like 3 years so I’m super nervous but!!! I hope you all enjoy it 🩵

They’re back to the beginning, but it’s different.

They’re different.

The area around them is familiar, the flowers around them bright, the presence of nothing and everything around them. 

He’s older now, his body weary from the weight he once carried— he doesn’t have to carry it anymore, he doesn’t carry the weight for them both, not here— and his mind no longer restless, no longer clouded by the guilt and shame that had followed once before. He’s in the body he was in before he was nothing, just a blip in the horizon, a glitch where he shouldn’t have been. 

And his partner, his everything in every existence, is different too. The towering, godlike Herald is gone, having been reverted back to how his body was before, no longer looming and reeking of misguided intentions. It’s Viktor standing before him now, those gold eyes boring into his as they stare at one another, the amber only shining brighter in the sunlight beaming around them. Viktor looks as he did before his illness worsened, before all of the chaos truly began— it was always there, bound to exist in their previous universe, always beneath the surface— and yet, he looks calmer, more at ease than Jayce had ever seen him. 

He’s reminded of when Viktor saved him from that ledge, eyes filled with wonder and amazement, looking at him with that small smile on his lips. 

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Viktor.”

Jayce finds himself stepping forward, hands reaching towards his partner, his Viktor, desperate to know if this was real. He needed to believe it was real, just as Viktor always believed in him. 

He always had, hadn’t he? Viktor always believed in Jayce, even when everyone else thought Jayce was mad for suggesting bringing magic into the hands of the people. Even if it wasn’t what they’d expected, Viktor believed in him when no one else would. Just as he had believed in Viktor.

His hand meets the skin of Viktor’s jaw, fingertips gentle and seeking, tracing the sharp angles as if he’d done it over and over again before. Maybe he had, in another lifetime, another possibility. 

Viktor melts into it, a shaky sound leaving his lips as his own hand reaches up to settle against Jayce’s, holding his hand in place as they continue to stare at one another, feeling as though the stars aligned, universes and galaxies finally meeting to form this moment. Time feels like nothing and everything here, they have forever now, in this small plane of existence— it’s theirs alone. Past experiences come flooding to the surface, from every universe, every lifetime. It’s overwhelmingly familiar, like a reminder of what he almost lost, a bad memory from another universe. 

“Jayce,” Viktor says quietly then, and Jayce feels his heart aching. It’s Viktor’s voice, not the Herald’s, not the God he wanted to be. 

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, moving closer to his partner while cradling Viktor’s face in both palms now, until their foreheads touch once more— a familiar gesture now, intimate and loving, filled with understanding and affection. 

“It was affection that held us together.”

It had always been affection, he knows that now. Jayce had always held love and care for Viktor, and from the way Viktor gazed at him, he held the same for Jayce. They’d always been two sides of the same coin, held by the red string of fate that tied them together. Chaos alone, order as one.

“Viktor,” he breathes, closing his eyes as he listens to Viktor breathing, taking in the warmth of being together again. His partner feels alive, warm and feeling, no longer the cold husk that the Hexcore made him, and it brings tears to his eyes. “Oh, Viktor,” he says again, voice cracking from the waves of emotions hitting him all at once. 

He feels hands on his face now too, gentle brushes of Viktor’s thumbs catching the tears on his cheeks, and it’s then that he can feel Viktor trembling, tears catching on his own hands still holding his partner’s face so tenderly. 

“Jayce,” Viktor says again, while pushing into Jayce, hands now in his hair, dragging him close, allowing Jayce to bury his face against Viktor’s neck. 

He breathes in deep, openly sobbing as his own hands drop from Viktor’s face to hold him close instead, embracing him with the same fierceness Viktor has shown him time and time again. His partner is sobbing alongside him, body shaking so harshly that Jayce fears he’ll collapse if he were to let him go. He won’t, not now, he never would again. 

Eventually they kneel in the flowery fields they’ve found themselves in, unable to stand anymore, clinging to one another. Viktor’s hands trace over the lines of his face, as if memorizing every detail. Jayce does the same, tracing over the sharp edges, the soft details of Viktor’s skin, lingering on the mole by his lips. They seem to be making up for lost time as well as getting used to the changes of themselves. He can feel Viktor’s hands in his hair, carding through it as it’s longer than he’s ever had it, fingers running over his beard, over his cracked lips, only to settle on his shoulders. Jayce’s own hands trace over his partner’s cheekbones, tracing over the mole under his eye, then his fingers tangle in Viktor’s chestnut brown hair— its longer now, the blonde tips present, the only feature Viktor kept from his changes due to the Hexcore.

“I missed you, Viktor,” Jayce tells him as he leans his forehead against his again, listening to the way his partner’s breath hitches at the gesture. “I’m sorry for everything—”

Viktor shakes his head at that, hands cupping Jayce’s face again, holding him so tightly; his eyes urgent, boring into Jayce’s.

“No. Don’t apologize for anything, please. You did what you were driven to do, as you always have,” Viktor tells him, and Jayce closes his eyes, letting the feeling of Viktor’s breath fanning out over his lips warm him to the bone. “I don’t blame you for anything. I never have, Jayce.”

If he had just left things alone, if he hadn’t allowed the Hexcore to consume Viktor, none of this would have happened. No, if Viktor hadn’t found him on that ledge, if he’d actually—

Jayce grits his teeth, stopping the dreaded thoughts before they could fester, before they could ruin the time they have now. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says regardless, eyes opening to catch the golden eyes of Viktor’s.

“I know. I forgive you, Jayce,” the other man says, fingers brushing over the back of his head as he pulls him even closer, their noses brushing now. “I’m sorry too. For going too far… for losing myself.”

A wounded sound leaves Jayce at that, one of his hands reaching down to grasp Viktor’s hand, the very hand that he’d held as they finished what they had started. 

“I knew you were still in there, somewhere. I lost myself too, we lost ourselves,” he whispers, running his fingertips over Viktor’s knuckles. They still needed to have a deeper conversation about everything, they still needed to heal from the trauma they’d been dealt, but Jayce knew it could wait. They had eternity now, they had their forever. “I forgive you too, Viktor.”

Viktor smiles then; it's small, barely there, but it’s Viktor.

Jayce leans in, tilting his head just slightly before he pauses, listening to the hitch in Viktor’s breath. They sit like that for what feels like an eternity, breathing the same air as they cling to one another, waiting for the other to move but too scared to ruin this fragile moment between them.

Viktor is the one who initiates it— Viktor who never reached for him, Viktor who always pushed Jayce away— who leans in and kisses him. A gasp sounds between them and Jayce is almost certain it was from his own lips, but it doesn’t matter, not when Viktor is kissing him. It’s soft at first, hesitant and unsure, until Jayce draws him closer when he wraps his arms around his thinner frame, and Viktor sighs against his lips. It increases in intensity as they cling to one another again, Jayce gripping Viktor’s waist and Viktor’s arms around his neck, holding him so tenderly.

They fall into the grass and flowers below them, Jayce hovering over Viktor when his partner rolls them over, staring down at Viktor with an affectionate light, unable to control himself when Viktor gives him that tiny smile again. He leans into him again, branding Viktor’s lips with his own once more, listening to the way Viktor hums, content and quiet. 

The kisses turn to more, shedding the clothes they’d shown up into their new paradise in, and Jayce finds that he’s losing himself in Viktor, taking in every noise that leaves his lips, savoring every feeling of Viktor’s hands on his skin, unable to control himself when his lips linger on Viktor’s chest— right where he’d been hit by a blast from Jayce’s hammer, the scar a reminder of what transpired and eventually led to this moment. Viktor sighs at the gentle touches Jayce places on his skin, only wanting more and more.

Afterwards, they lay against one another, curled up under the blanket he had given Viktor, the one Viktor seemed to never want to get rid of, just tracing each other in lazy, almost sleepy touches. The sun has started to set, painting them in pinks and oranges, a soft breeze flowing through the valley of the world they’re in.

“It’s going to take some getting used to,” Viktor remarks suddenly, fingers tracing over Jayce’s jaw as if petting Jayce’s beard, a huff leaving him when Jayce turns his head to press kisses against the inside of his wrist. “I think it suits you.”

“Yeah?” he drawls, a dopey smile on his lips as he nuzzles against Viktor’s palm, pressing a soft kiss against his wrist. He catches Viktor’s gaze when he looks back at him, smiling as he tangles his fingers in Viktor’s hair. “I could say the same about your hair.”

Viktor hums, shifting closer to Jayce once more, and Jayce meets him halfway, their lips meeting in a gentle and chaste kiss. 

When they break apart, Viktor lays his head on Jayce’s shoulder, fingers tracing the definitions of his chest, and Jayce continues drawing lazy lines over the pale skin of Viktor’s back, connecting the moles he finds there like constellations. The sky is dark now, the stars vast and endless, yet it brings Jayce nothing but comfort. They were in their own paradise now, their universe. 

“I love you, Viktor,” he murmurs against Viktor’s forehead when he turns his head to gaze down at his partner. “I’ve always loved you,” Jayce continues, cupping Viktor’s jaw as his gaze catches his as Viktor draws back slightly. Viktor’s brows are furrowed, eyes wide with guilt and shame for a moment, before his expression softens. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. But— I love you, Viktor. You’re my partner, my everything, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. If you’ll have me.”

“I love you too, my Jayce,” his partner breathes before surging forward and kissing him again. “You’re telling me now, there’s no need to apologize. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, I love you too much to let you go. You’re my forever, Jayce.”

Forever. They have forever now, in a world of their own creation. And Jayce feels his heart swell. 

“Forever, huh?” he teases, watching as Viktor smiles again, both chuckling even as tears start to flow from their eyes once more. 

“Forever,” Viktor affirms.

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

You’ll never guess what happened. The demon came back, angrier AND hornier. I always thought I was a Price/Simon girly but Soap snuck his way all the way in here. I blame the Soap thirst edits on TikTok. Too pretty. Anywho, this is one of the rare times I don’t get bogged down in preamble, which is to say, a poorly veiled excuse to admit I don’t make it to smut very often. I hope… it’s good? Idk it’s all embarrassing.

That’s it for this one probably. I’ll see y’all out there.

All for One, One for All, part 2

Part 1 here

TW: NSFW, MDNI, fem reader. I’m bad at tags, sorry.

“I said, are you broken?”

“No sir.” You said quietly. Curled in on yourself, legs covering your important bits, your fingers fuss with the seams of the couch. You feel like you’ve done nothing but cry for the last hour, so much for being a big tough soldier.

Eyes still on you, he blinks for the first time in forever it seems. “Good.” Price finally stands. He always seems big but he’s towering, a monolith as you lay in his shadow. He takes a deep breath and says “Before we begin, I need you to be honest with me.”

Beside you, you hear Ghost wrestle Soap down to the couch, balaclava askew as he grabs his legs and forces him on his back.

“Ah, eyes on me.” Price barks. Not breaking his eyes, he pulls his shirt off. Jesus fucking Christ. It’s the military, you all have seen plenty of each other in various dress. But this is too much. He’s a hairy man, chest full of soft dark down, with a thick trail leading into his low pant line. You wonder if it’s just as thick near his cock.

Fingers snap, bringing you back to the task at hand. A chuckle shakes his shoulders. “You usually listen so well. More than these two anyways. We’ll have to work on that.” A mumble comes out of Soap, you figure it’d be more of a complaint if Ghost wasn’t biting his bottom lip.

You yip in surprise as Price falls to his knees in front of you. Irises blown out, you figure your eyes can and will fall out of your head by days end. He reaches for one of your knees, so far just feeling you, rubbing his thumb. Finally letting his gaze fall, he says, ”Why’ve you been running from me, love? You’re so… skittish. You’re such a good soldier for me,” he trails, taking your ankle in his other hand, bringing it to the floor tenderly. “I’ve never wanted to pressure you, make you feel like you’re here for the wrong reasons. You’re as much a part of this squad as I am.” His hand runs from your ankle to your toes, his warm fingers carding through them. He looks to the side. “What’s this really about?”

Your heart freezes as he treats you so gingerly. You’ve been so obsessed with your own worries, you didn’t even stop to consider that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. “I, I uh.” You take a moment to collect your thoughts, steady your breathing. Even Ghost and Soaps wrestling slows, you feel their eyes in your direction as the room falls to near silence. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.” You say slowly, almost sadly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. I’m a … mess. I—“ you hiccup, shaking your head, trying to push through the weight in your chest. “didn’t want you to find out that I’m not worth it.” You finish quietly.

Hands squeeze you tightly, for a moment. Price gives you a hard look. For the first time in a long time, he isn’t sure what to say. A beat goes by, then two. He finally moves, bringing both your legs down and sitting you upright in front of him, hands in yours.

Price was always good at conveying a lot wordlessly. In the field, when a new recruit fucks up during training. The look he’s giving you now is breaking your heart. Like you bring him the sun in the morning. Like all he’s ever wanted was a moment with you. He’s been doing this a long time, not a lot in his life requires the softness that he gave you freely. You gave him hope. A hope that he could be something after all this. That he could be someone who doesn’t have to carry the world all the time. He’d carry you though. As long as you’d let him.

“You let me decide that. You understand?”

The tears threatening to burst forth subside for the first time today. Something so resolute in his voice makes you feel like you finally have something concrete, something real to latch onto. Maybe a purpose is what you both needed, something you could find in each other.

“Yes sir.” You reply.

He brings one of your hands to his lips, mustache tickling as he kisses it. “That’s my girl. Now come here.”

A surprise laugh rips through you as he snatches you into his arms. You can’t help but try to slap him away and he peppers kisses onto your face. Over your eyes, your nose. He rests his forehead against your cheekbone, smiling against it. “I’ve been showing a lot of restraint, love. You let me know if it gets too much.” You’ve never heard something so sweet sound more like a threat.

A moan brings your attention to the other side of the couch, the only word you could use to describe the scene was progress. Shirts gone, pants unbuckled, hands grabbing. Ghost in all his big, fuck-off glory trailing rough kisses down Soaps chest. Soap, already blissed out, had an eye on you though. Breathlessly, he tossed a look over at Price, “Take care of our girl, Cap.” He said. You were the first to admit that your judgement was compromised to say the least, but you could have sworn you heard an edge in Soaps voice. Eyes fluttering the closer Ghost got to his cock, he still looked at you with a certain intensity. Like he’d be there if any part of Price faltered. Your heart did a flip in your chest before Soaps eyes rolled back completely. We all had our respective objectives today, it seemed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sergeant.” You wish everything would stop happening at the same time. Your shirt, or the crumpled remains of it bunched around your shoulders gets ripped off, hair falling messily into your eyes. You hear a jangle as pants hit the floor and hands are all over you, laying you up and out. Soap and you are positioned head to head on the L-shape of the couch, your respective commanders tending to your… needs. Hair cascading around your head, you lay your hands above you, Soaps fingers tangling gently in yours.

“Suppose we have dear Johnny to thank in the first place, getting our girl out of her shell. Told Simon here he deserved something special, you know.” Price said offhandedly to you, bringing his hips over to your face. “Needed someone to warm you up for me, teamwork and whatnot.” He says as he throws you a wink. Your attention is pulled to what’s in front of you and your laugh dies in your throat. You knew he was big. You’ve caught glimpses in showers, in changing rooms. But you tried, really, you promise, not to outright ogle your captain. In this moment you start to think maybe you should have, it would have prepared you a little better emotionally.

Price’s breathing starts to get a little hitched in his chest. Something about your pretty face, underneath him looking at him like that makes his heart clench. Or maybe his balls, it’s hard to tell. Either way it makes his abs flex and his cock bob up and down. “Sweetheart, I need you,” he tells you, pumping the base. “I’m going to take care of you I promise baby. You gonna take care of your Captain?”

There’s a breathless quality to his voice. And something like liquid fire slips into your stomach. Something slippery and white hot. Seeing the man you’ve leaned on both physically and emotionally, the man you looked up to, got you out of battlefields alive, weak? For you? You look up at Price, big doe eyes taking him all in as you lean his cock gently into your mouth with two fingers. Running your tongue gingerly across the underside, you tease it a little before taking just the head in your mouth and giving it suck. Almost a kiss. You feel his torso shudder as he leans a hand to the back of the couch to support himself, curling over you for a better view.

If you weren’t so focused, you’d laugh at the chorus of moans from the men in the room. Prices eyes slipped closed, Ghosts eyes are locked on you as he has Soap in his own mouth, bobbing up and down in a steady pace. Soap however has you locked in, looking at you almost upside down, fingers clenching in yours as his brows furrow. Mouth agape, he chokes out a moan as he cums down Ghosts throat.

You take Price down further, slowly. As much as you want to tease him, you’ve been waiting just as long as he has. His length and girth are, truly too much, but you make it down, feeling the soft dark curls tickle your nose and cheeks. You wonder if your throat bulges, you’ll have to ask him later. He maintains the pace initially, hand snaking to the back of your head, but relinquishes control once you make it down his length. Your eyes peek open for a moment to see him fully engulfed into your mouth, eyes closed and muttering to you.

“Just as good as I thought you’d be, you’re so fucking good for me. You like me in your throat, baby? Like your Captain fucking your sweet little throat? Fuck.” Your hands sneak up, one running down his torso and feeling hair and corded muscle in your palm, the other one wrapped around one of his thighs. You feel him tense before he groans and pulls out of your mouth slowly. He meets you in the middle, leaning down to you as he pulls you up by your face to crush you in a kiss. The heady taste of his own cock filling his mouth as he deepens. Wanting to drown in you. His hands cradling your face, he drops one to find in between your thighs, rubbing passively around your clit, not quite enough pressure to be satisfying as you wiggle for more contact. He pulls away briefly to slap at your thighs before continuing, a check to obey. The other hand sneaks down and puts a easy pressure around the top of your throat. Not squeezing too hard, but enough to get your attention and keep you aware.

You’ve never seen his eyes so intense, he’d eat you whole if he could. He can’t help but tighten his fingers around your throat for a moment, you’re so fucking delicious. “As much as I want your sweet little mouth I need to feel you, baby. Ugh, I fucking—“ he hitches, bonking his forehead against yours, barely able to contain himself as he closes his eyes. “Tell me what you want love.” He says with a now steady voice. “Tell me how you want me and I’ll do it.”

“Let me make it up to you daddy.” You whisper, throat vibrating his large hand. His eyes shoot back open as the name shoots right to his dick. He desperately tries to remember if the medic talked about his heart at all at his last checkup, it won’t make it at this rate. He lets you go as you get up from the couch, mildly unsteady from all the angles you’ve been in today. His hands never leaving your body, he lets you position him, in a sitting position on the couch, hips forward so he’s at an angle, legs open. You can’t look at him too long like this. Fully splayed open, a lifetimes worth of muscles and scars and hard work displayed on a truly perfect canvas. He starts to pump his cock again, as he returns the look. Whatever you were, flaws and all, would always be exactly what he wanted. He understood why all those guys from the past made their wives into marble statues. He already wants to keep you forever.

You both get mildly distracted as Ghost and Soap quietly exclaim at the same time, now fully nude as Ghost positions him on his knees on the couch, hands warming his ass as he pumps himself from behind. If you see any more fit, perfect men today you are sure you’d die. “Christ, bird. Give John a show for us, he’s been waiting for ya’.” The look Ghost gives is downright sinful and he maintains eye contact as he slips into Johnnys hole. The moan that slips out of his mouth makes your pussy pulse.

Your attention comes back to Price as you crawl into his lap, rubbing your hands over his shoulders before settling around his jaw and hold his head up, hovering over his cock. “I’ve been yours since the first day I met you, John.” Your eyes rake over his features up close, running your thumbs over his lips and cheeks. “I. Feel like I’m right with you. Like I don’t feel so out of balance.” His hands snake around your waist, running his hand down your spine. You drop to his ear, wanting at least one thing just between you and him. “I’ve loved you for a long time, I’m sorry it took so long to say I—“ you get cut off by lips on yours. Not rough, but almost bruising kiss as he explores your body. Like he’s mapping it to memory. He breaks away after what seems like an eternity and whispers into yours “Show me.”

You give him your doe eyes, full of lust as you lean back, putting your hands on his knees and putting yourself on blessed display. You bring one hand between you two as you guide his cock to your entrance. His mouth drops open as he feels the tight wet heat crest the head. His head falls back to the couch as you start working yourself slowly around him, moaning as you go. “Fuck John, you’re so big,” you say breathlessly as you reach the bottom. You rock up and down, getting used to the absolutely full feeling inside and lean fully back onto his knees. You start to undulate your torso and hips ever so slightly, letting him see, showing off how he makes you feel. You close your eyes and moan, “I used to touch myself thinking how you’d feel. Your big fucking hands on me, in me. Fuck, Daddy.”

A growl rips out of him as the hands on your thighs tighten. You’re gonna be the death of him. He steals one of your hands from behind you and brings it to his mouth, licking your pointer and middle, getting them messy. He grabs your wrist and spits roughly on them one last time, and he brings your fingers to your clit.

“Show me, baby.” He commands, his combat voice leaking through. “Show daddy how you want him to touch you.” Your mouth drops open as you pick up the pace, rolling your body and hips up and down his length in earnest, and working your clit in little circles. Your tits shake to the rhythm as he takes you all in, arms spreading across the back of the couch. Your moans find a cadence, little “uh, uh, uh’s” a song in your Captains ears. His jaw tenses, positive he’d break a tooth if he clenched anymore. “I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow. So fuckin’ perfect for me.” He squeezes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your cadence starts to get sloppy in his lap, bouncing almost out of beat, rubbing your clit in quick circles. A whine sits high in your throat as you feel your orgasm build, your soft thighs bouncing on his sturdy lap. “Do you like it, daddy?” You squeak out. “Fuck, does, does it feel good?”

His hands move fast, taking your throat once again in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The other angling your hips on his cock as he finally thrusts back. Putting pressure on you, your eyes water as the light, fuzzy feeling starts to creep into your vision. “My perfect little pussy. Fuck daddy, sweetheart. Soak me, cum on daddy’s dick, come on!”

Static. Light. You feel your chest vibrate and your mouth move but can’t exactly hear as you cum. That wet feeling is back again as you feel it… everywhere. Dripping down your knees, splashing down to your ankles. Breath only comes to you shallowly. You tune in and out to a steady stream of names is being moaned into your ear as hearing returns. “Fucking such a good girl, my little whore, you did so good for me.” Hands pet your hair and warm your sides. You hear another set of strangled moans as Johnny gets louder beside you two. Ghost is fucking him fast and hard from behind, holding Johnny around his chest and keeping him up, both sets of eyes on you and John.

Your body moves on autopilot, delicate hands move off of John as you lift yourself and position yourself on your knees in front of Soap. Your fingers grip his cock, red and weepy with precum and he cries at the contact. So does Ghost, as his cock is being clenched in Soaps ass you figure. You bring your mouth down and take his head in your mouth and he can’t last. Refuses to. He cums, long and deep into your mouth, flexing his chest and almost ripping out of Simon’s arms. Simon finishes as well, hips shaking everyone as Soaps ass milks him for all he’s got. You bring yourself up, swallowing slowly and making sure Johnny sees you lick the remainder off your lips. He rips you forwards, kissing you and tasting himself. You wonder if you both will always taste like cum to each other from now on.

You feel hands rip you backwards and you fall into a big warm chest, bringing your legs up as he slots himself inside you, pussy on display to the others. You crane your neck to look at him, eyes wild, hazy, and he lands a messy kiss on the outside of your mouth, still tasting Johnny on your lips. One hand wraps around your waist as the other starts rubbing your clit in hard tight circles, just like you showed him. He hammers in to you, tits bouncing as you can’t do anything but yell. His thighs and your ass still tacky with your cum. You hold his arm tightly, trying to hold on for dear life as he speaks loudly in your ear, drowning out your moans. “Who’s are you, baby. Look them in the eye and say it.”

Your heart shatters for real this time. Overstimulated. Too many feelings all at once. Too much. Not enough. Everything you’ve always wanted as you moan loudly, “Yours! Ours!” Johnny and Simon look at you, holding each other gently. They both look back on it and say the same thing, it’s like looking into the sun. “That’s right, bird.” “Ours forever, love.”

John fucks into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. His arm now a vice grip around you as you reach your crest again, splashing all over his thighs for a second time, in arcs and droplets all over the couch. “Ours. MINE.” He roars in your ear. He cums, hard inside you, pulses shaking you violently. His cock slips out as he pumps straight into the air, landing on your clit and pussy, making more of a mess as it drips out of your hole.

You weren’t really present for what happened after. Big, warm hands get you through a shower, keep you upright. Dry you off. A rogue hand occasionally playing with your clit before it gets slapped away by the others, chastised gently. “She’s had enough for one day, give her some time!” You find yourself coming back to, naked in a bed much larger than your own, swimming in a soft comforter. Bodies on both sides of you rub and pet you passively, just wanting some contact. You doze off, to kisses in your hairline and a bearded face tickling yours as it whispers in your ear, where no one else can hear.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

[daisymbin]

angst prompt #21. "you don’t get to walk back into my life like this." with female reader and mingyu

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angst prompt #21: "you don't get to walk back into my life like this."

mingyu hadn’t expected to feel this much.

he’d thought he could handle it—seeing you again after all this time, just a chance encounter. but the moment he saw you, his heart had dropped, and all the walls he’d built around himself crumbled.

he hadn’t realized how much he missed you until now.

it had been months since he walked away from you, and the emptiness he tried so hard to fill never truly went away. he had convinced himself that leaving was the right thing to do, that you’d be better off without him, that you deserved someone who could give you more. but the truth was, he had been too scared to face his own feelings, and in the end, he left you behind.

but now, standing in front of your door, mingyu felt the weight of everything he had done.

he had to see you.

“hey,” mingyu said softly when you opened the door. your eyes went wide in recognition, and he felt a pang of guilt at the guarded look in them.

“mingyu?” you asked, the surprise quickly shifting into something harder, colder. “what are you doing here?”

he swallowed, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, feeling small under your gaze. “i just... i saw you earlier, and i couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about us.”

you raised an eyebrow, stepping back slightly, but not enough to invite him in. “us? you’ve got a funny way of showing it. you didn’t seem to care about ‘us’ when you walked out without a word. remember that?”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“i know,” he whispered, his voice breaking as the weight of his regret crushed him. “i know i messed up. i didn’t mean to hurt you, but... i didn’t know how to fix it. i thought i was doing what was best for both of us, but i was wrong. i should’ve never left.”

you let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and almost mocking. “you think you can just come back and undo everything? you can’t just walk back into my life and act like nothing happened. you hurt me, mingyu. you hurt me more than you’ll ever understand.”

mingyu’s chest tightened as he watched the anger and pain in your eyes. the person standing before him wasn’t the one he remembered—the one he used to joke with, the one who smiled when he walked into the room. no, this was someone who had healed, someone who had moved on without him.

and it hurt.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head. “i can’t take back what i did, but i want you to know how sorry i am. i wasn’t ready before, but i am now. i want to make things right between us.”

you shook your head, a sad smile curling on your lips. “you don’t get it, do you? i moved on, mingyu. i had to. i can’t just forget everything, and i can’t just let you back in because you finally decided you made a mistake. it’s too late for that.”

the words hit him harder than anything. too late.

“please,” he said, stepping forward, but you took a step back, closing the distance between you with an air of finality.

“no,” you said firmly, voice trembling but steady. “i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep hoping for something that’s never going to happen. i’ve moved on. i’ve let go.”

mingyu felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath him. he opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. what could he say? how could he fix this when everything he had done was unforgivable?

he couldn’t.

“you don’t get to just walk back into my life, mingyu,” you repeated, this time quieter, but no less painful. “i can’t keep waiting for someone who’s never coming back.”

mingyu’s throat tightened as he stood there, watching you—the person he once thought he’d spend forever with—walk away from him, slipping behind the door with a final click.

he stood there for what felt like forever, frozen in place.

he thought he could change. he thought he could fix what he had broken. but some things couldn’t be fixed. some mistakes were too big to come back from.

and as he stood outside your door, the reality settled in.

it was too late.

[thedeadstoryteller1]

𝓢𝓾𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓗𝓲𝓰𝓱 | 𝓩𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘴𝘬𝘰 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘡𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦.

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘴: Oral Sex, Established Realationship, Fluff, Breeding Kink, Vaginal Sex, Crempie, Praise, My love.

Artist: Please help me find the artist

“Yvonne.. Tell me how much longer my shift is.” She chuckles slightly at my child like whine.

“You’re like this because Dr. Zayne has been in surgery all day.” She retorts. If she didn't have a mask on I could see her big grin. Her eyes shut slightly when she smiles like that.

“Okay you don’t have to call me out like that.” I snort.

She’s right though. I get moody when Zayne is busy, it gets so boring sometimes transporting patients to different areas of the hospital. For the past few weeks I’ve been working at Asko Hospital. The decrease in wanderer activity caused me to look for a part-time job. Zayne offered to help me with my expenses but I refused, so as a solution he was able to find me a job here. Of course I was mortified and refused again, but when no other job was calling I ended up taking him up on the offer. For three days out of the week I’m transporting patients to different areas of the hospital. Who knew this was an actual thing that people get paid to do. It’s not a hard job, however it gets so boring having to wait for an assignment. On the bright side, wearing scrubs is so comfy.

“Dr. Zayne should be getting out soon from his surgery in 15 minutes, if all went well. You can transport his patient to the ICU once closing is done.” Yvonne winks at me, still keeping that same big grin. I can’t help my face turning bright red, she lets out a big laugh causing the nurses station to grow silent. We both can’t help but giggle at the awkward stares from our peers.

“Operating room five?” I say staring at the OR board, “I’m getting kinda good at reading medical lingo.”

‘‘Mhmm.” Yvonne mutters, as she hands me the patient pickup report. “Don’t get lost again.” She says as I’m heading away. Once again she calls me out, I can’t help but to get flustered all over again. There is a hard fact about me working here, I get lost all the time.

It’s been longer than 15 minutes, I made it everywhere but OR five. How did I even manage to make it to the morgue? This is going to be my second write up for patient tardiness. Another one and I’m kissing this job goodbye. I punch the elevator button rapidly so it can open. My stomach is in knots, the overwhelming anxiety is causing me to sweat. I’m a hunter for crying out loud. I can read a map, but I can’t understand the hospital layout. Ridiculous. Consumed by my thoughts, I rush into the elevator as soon as it opens. A loud HUMPH is heard as I collide into a body.

Oh shit. I know this cologne.

“Lost again are we?” His sarcastic tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I can’t bring myself to look up at him. I know he has that stupid smirk on his face.

Zayne chuckles. As I try to back away to create some space between us, he takes his hand and holds my waist all while resting his chin on my head.

“I got lost trying to find OR five.” I mutter in his chest. Having Zayne so close to me and feeling his hand on my waist makes my already knotted stomach do back flips.

“Hmmm. Ms. Hunter, it seems as If I need to show you the hospital again.” He starts swaying us softly side to side, as if we were dancing. The elevator doors close and we start to ascend.

“Did the surgery go well?” I whisper trying not to ruin our moment.

“As expected, the patient will make full recovery.” He lifts his head up, still looking down into his chest. I take my arms and wrap them around him. If I could, I would freeze us in this movement forever. All of my worries, all of my doubts fade when I’m with him like this. His calmness soothes me in ways I can’t explain. I am truly in love with him.

He places his free hand under my chin, cupping it softly causing me to lift my head and meet his gaze. Before I can even react, he leans in and kisses me. His soft lips collide into mine. Slow and sweet, I kiss him back. But the knot that was in my stomach turns into a fire, a hunger for his touch and skin. As the anxiety leaves my body, my hands find their way to his hair, I tug on it slightly causing a small whimper escape his lips. I stand on my tippy toes and make our kiss more passionate, sliding my tongue in his mouth. His hands move from their previous positions and without hesitation he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, his hands hold my ass for support. There is no struggle from Zayne, he lifts me up and pushes my back against the wall with ease. We break away from our kiss and gasp for air, looking into his eyes again I see his hunger and wanting. The feeling in my pants makes me bite on my lip, his lips curiver in response. A small smirk appears on his face as he catches his breath.

“Naughty girl.” He pants.

“Teach me a lesson.” I smirk

The elevator doors open, and my heart stops working. We quickly let go of each other creating some sort of distance. Zayne shuffles his hair and clears his throat, however there is no hiding the bulge in his scrub pants. Oh how I know he wishes he had his lab coat on. I quickly adjusted my scrub top and hair. Looking at the floor number and realizing we are at the main lobby, Zayne gives a friendly nod at the elderly couple who just walked in, and quickly exits out of the elevator.

“My office after your shift, we need to discuss our conversation further.” He says as before the doors close.

Zayne the man that you are.

The couple gives me a sassy smile and my face grows red. The awkward tension in the room almost makes me throw up. The next stop, I quickly exit the elevator. Now to find the nurses station.

After receiving my second write up, I glance at the clock and see it’s time for me to leave. Midnight. Remembering Zayne’s words I make my way to his office. Knowing that route like the back of my hand, my thoughts take me to the moment in the elevator. The way his eyes looked, like he was going to lose control. His hands on my ass gripping me tightly, the way my cunt was burning for him. He was so confident, so ready to devour me. Surgeons high. I’ve heard of the nurses talking about it before, it’s when after performing a risky surgery the doctor feels a sense of adrenaline and a boost to their ego causes the blood to flow. The thought of cool, calm, collected Zayne disappeared to the man in the elevator.

When I arrive at his office door, I hesitate before knocking. What are you feeling now, Zayne? Pushing my anxiety aside, I place two knocks before I hear his voice telling me to enter. He is sitting at his desk, still wearing his dark navy blue scrubs, the lab coat is hanging perfectly on the coat rack. In the dim office the moonlight illuminates his soft face. He's on the computer typing away.

“Lock it.” He demands, not taking his eyes off the screen. The directness causes me to react instantly. Oh so it’s going to be like that … fine. Let's play Dr. Zayne.

I make my way to his desk and perfectly sit on the corner, crossing my legs like a perfect school girl. He is still typing, not looking away from the screen.

“Finishing the report ?” I glance over.

He closes the computer quickly and rotates his chair to face me, leaning back as he stares me down. His eyes scan my body, there is a hint of lust but they mostly scream admiration.

“Have I ever told you how great you look in scrubs?” he smirks. My dark violet scrubs look almost black with this lighting. I chuckle at his comment.

“They are rather nice but I do miss my hunter uniform.” We both smile.

He scoots his chair in front of me.

“I like you more without clothes.” His low raspy whisper catches me off guard, he takes his hands and parts my legs open. The unexpected move catches me off guard and I jump at his touch. His eyes look at me again, asking for permission. Do your worst. I nodded at his permission.

“Lay down.” He demands as his hands proceeds to take off my scrub pants and panties. I kick my shoes off quickly.

“Close your eyes and don’t make a sound, my love.” His tongue takes no time in finding my clit, rubbing sweet circles around it. Unable to control my movements, my legs close in on his face, I quickly cover my mouth with my hands and thankfully so because his tongue is doing wonders. With each flick and rub, my body trembles sending shockwaves. He goes faster with each squirm. Putting my legs over his shoulders, he grips onto my thighs making me unable to leave. I feel myself coming close to climax.

“Z-Z-Zayne I-I-I’m g-gonna cum.” I moan as quietly as possible. His tongue movements become faster. I bite the inside of my cheeks, in a few seconds my back arches at the feeling of release. Moaning quietly but wanting to scream is torture. He slows down and my muscles relax. I’m gasping for breath, flustered and hot. He gets up from his seat, locking eyes with me once more. His ears are red and he licks his lips.

“You taste sweet.” We chuckle

“I want you please.” I beg him. His eyes darken again and no second is wasted. He lowers his scrub pants a bit, taking my legs over his shoulders; he teases me with his cock. Rubbing the tip up and down my throbbing cunt. Zayne please my eyes beg him.

With no warning he shoves his dick deep into my pussy hitting my cervix, giving me no time to adjust to his big dick. I don’t contain my moan and he quickly covers my mouth.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He whispers almost enough so I don’t hear him. I can’t help but to smile at the sound of him cursing. He notices my smile and starters thrusting faster and harder, the desk moves slightly. “Turn around.” he demands. Obeying his order, I lower my legs and 180 spin onto my stomach, all while Zayne is still inside me. With my feet planted onto the ground for support, he grabs onto my waist and starts to pound me.

Low moans from the both of us fill the room. His thrusting is fast and deep, causing my legs to shake with each clap. A few tears fall from my eyes, I want to scream, to moan his name loudly but I restrain myself. I know he’s trying hard as well, sometimes a small grunt escapes but he followers it with a thrust. He thrust so hard that it causes the things on his desk to fall over, the neat and tidy office soon turns into a mess with papers and pens on the ground. A loud bang is heard when a metal cup falls and hits the floor.

A knock on the door causes my heart to drop. Zayne doesn't stop.

“Dr. Zayne, are you alright in there?” A muffled voice is heard from the other side.

“Yes (grunt) Dr. Greyson I (huff) just dropped a few things.” I’m biting my lip so hard it bleeds a little bit. Zayne pulls me closer, putting his hand over my mouth. I moan a little at the feeling of his cock shifting.

“I finished the report sir, shall I come in and bring it to you.” The door handle shakes a bit but with no success of opening it stops.

Zayne leans in and whispers in my ear “Let me cum inside you.” I shake my head yes, closing my eyes.

“Slide it under the door, I’m changing.” With no questions the folder slides in perfectly.

“You’re a good girl.” He purrs resting his head on mine. With that Zayn’s hot cum fills my insides. My legs shake at my release as well. We both pant heavily like feral dogs trying to catch a breath. His dick twitches inside of me, making sure I take all of his fill. Fuck. Zayne hugs me tightly from behind. I feel his chest rise up and down quickly. He places a kiss on the back of my head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I say trying to hold myself up, but my legs are so shaky that I turn into mush in his arms. He holds my weight making sure I don’t fall on the floor. Gently he takes me to his office chair and sits me on it slowly. Small drops of sweat trickle down from his face, he is still gorgeous though. A gorgeous, hot and sweaty mess. My mess.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” His eyes show concern and remorse as he wipes the tears from my eyes cupping my cheek in the process.

“No, absolutely not.” I hold his hand with mine, smiling softly. “I need to start making my way over here after your surgeries if this is what your high makes you do.”

He laughs, his sweet velvet laugh is music to my ears. It’s so rare to hear. Once again I freeze this moment into my brain. The rarity of hearing his laugh, his green eyes glowing in the moonlight, his hand on my cheek. I make sure to lock it so it can never leave my memories.

“My high?” he questions, still slightly chickling in the process.

“You know .. the high that every surgeon gets after succeeding a risky operation.” I tease.

“My love, I never thought I would say this but I miss you fighting wanderers. The hospital lingo is catching up to you.” He smiles.

“Expect the layout apparently.” I huff.

He shakes his head slightly before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “Let's go home.”

[elspethdekarios]

Atonement

Hello fellow Solavellan sufferers!!! I've written a little fic about what I imagine goes down between Solas and Lavellan once the game is over. I'll have you know I listened to the Lost Elf Theme on repeat while writing it, if that tells you anything. Anyway, read below the cut or on AO3 here!

SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2,821

! HUGE VEILGUARD SPOILERS !

When she stepped into the Fade, hand in hand with her love, Sulah had no preconceived notion of what to expect on the other side, nor did she spend a moment speculating about what it could possibly be. She was with Solas, after all, and there was no use in trying to predict his actions. It was funny, really—how she found him predictable and surprising all in the same. No, there was little use trying to guess where in the Fade he would lead them. Nonetheless, she wasn't sure she would have ever expected this.

The pocket of the Fade they walked into was dull and gray as stone. In fact, most of it was stone. Fragments of buildings and debris floated slowly through the foggy sky above. Tendrils of winding roots grew up through cracks in the stone. There were staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, and twisted, barren trees clinging to broken columns and walls. The air was so still it felt stifling in Sulah’s lungs. And Solas, downtrodden and bruised, looked like he belonged there. Like he was part of the backdrop. As if he could hear her thoughts, he spoke.

“It is a reflection of what I am. What I don't want to be.” He paused, dropping his head. “What I don't want to face.”

“This is how you atone?”

“I told you it would be terrible.”

“And I told you forever.” Sulah turned to him, heart aching for the bloodied mess of his face. “I meant it.”

Solas lifted his head enough to look at her through glassy, violet eyes. “I don’t deserve you, vhenan.”

“I think that’s up to me,” she said, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek. “Let’s talk, my love. Before you start making your amends.”

They sat with their backs against a nearby stone wall. Solas’s eyes alternated between being heavy with sleep and haunting despair. He looked so much older than she remembered him—not physically, really, but in the way he seemed to be held down with millennia of burden. On the other hand, he had the heartbreaking demeanor of a child unable to emotionally grasp the multitude of his feelings.

“I don’t know… where to start,” he breathed. With one look at her, a hint of hope glimmered amongst the sadness in his eyes. “I have missed you. Desperately so.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Sulah’s voice cracked as she spoke, a stream of tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She brushed them away and smiled sadly. “So let’s start there, shall we?”

His kiss tasted of salt and metal. She didn’t care about the wounds on his face or the small gash on his lip still swelling with blood. It had been a decade since she tasted him, touched him, spoke to him. Even though she knew he visited in her dreams, he never made contact—only watched, a dark figure in the distance. How she longed to reach out for him every time, to pull him close and find solace in his arms like she used to. Sulah crawled in front of him, her knees aching as they pressed into the cold stone, and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a brief hesitation, Solas rested his hands on her waist, his touch timid at first, like he was afraid of doing something wrong. But his touch grew more confident by the second, and soon his arms were wrapped around her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt as if a missing piece of her heart had been restored, held in place by molten gold.

“I don’t know that I can possibly tell you all of it. Perhaps I could… show you, instead.” With a single thought, Solas willed into the Fade a blue crystal statuette of a wolf, not unlike the one Sulah found when his ritual failed. He held it, concentrated on it, and its core radiated bright blue magic. He held the figure out to her. As Sulah took it from him, their destitute surroundings swirled and dissolved, leaving her in front of a young Solas. His face was not quite so worn with pain and exhaustion like the one she knew. Long, auburn hair cascaded down the center of his head, falling over his shoulder as he turned to face the other elf in front of him.

“Solas, how could you?” the other elf asked. His skin was tan, his hair was dark, and his face was marked with Mythal’s branching vallaslin. The same branches that Sulah had tattooed underneath her eyes.

“I do not expect you to understand, Felassan,” Solas said, standing tall and proud as ever. “It was necessary for the enemy to believe we were committed. A heavy sacrifice, but one that gave us a real chance to end the war.”

“You knowingly sent those spirits to their deaths!” Felassan shouted. “We’re supposed to be better than this.”

Felassan spoke to Solas with the intimacy and confidence of a close friend, unafraid to confront his wrongdoings. Sulah could make out a hint of remorse in Solas’s eyes before his face hardened into a scowl.

“I did what had to be done.”

The scene dissipated. Ruins were replaced with the glorious landscape of ancient Arlathan, sprawling greenery among grand, floating palaces. Solas argued with an elven woman who Sulah now recognized as Mythal. She was identical to the spirit fragment she had seen before stepping into the Fade with Solas, only solid and real. The words they spoke were jumbled, as if Solas couldn’t remember the exact things said when he transferred the memory to the statue, but Sulah knew what they were discussing all the same: the Blight. Solas protested, pleaded with Mythal, before finally giving in to her demands.

“I will follow you always,” he said. Sulah had never heard him sound so defeated. A distinct and overwhelming sense of shame settled over her as the scene faded.

The memories continued like this, one after the other, each one brief but enough to show her the actions that haunted him. And enough to leave her with thousands of questions. She saw his regrets from centuries ago—memories of Mythal, Elgern’an, Ghilan’nain, the other Evanuris. She saw him destroy the legacy of the titans, and the corruption that introduced the Blight to the world. She saw his sorrow at the creation of the Veil, the loss of the world he knew, the unbreakable tether he had to Mythal, similar to a commandeering mother and a child eager to please her, desperate for her approval. She saw his plans to give Corypheus the orb go awry, the conflict raging inside of him as he fell in love with Sulah, the way he almost told her the truth that night in Crestwood. She felt the guilt he carried afterwards—that he still carried. She saw him devise his devious plan to mold Rook into someone the prison would take in his place. His betrayal and desperation.

She saw the despair in his eyes when he killed Varric.

Sulah stood on the raised platform where Solas orchestrated his ritual, watching as Varric climbed the stairs in an attempt to stop his friend. Even in a memory, the air was charged with powerful magic, culminating in a swirling wind that blew her hair into her face, obscuring her view. She could only make out fragments of the argument.

“You need to listen—”

“You have come a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric—”

“—able to give me a straight answer—”

“—rather than admit this is mine to solve—”

“—who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”

Varric’s last statement stung like a knife. His words echoed as time slowed. Sulah felt the heavy burden of self doubt imbued in Solas’s memory as the two men locked eyes, their argument hanging in the air between them. In a chaotic flash, several things happened: Solas turned to continue the ritual, Varric attempted to pry the lyrium dagger from Solas’s hands, and the monuments of the Evanuris surrounding the ritual site began to fall. Somewhere in the chaos, while wrenching the dagger back from Varric’s grasp, the blade pierced through his chest. The sound of ripping flesh. The gasp from Varric’s mouth.

“NO!” Sulah shouted. Time had slowed, and she rushed to catch him as he stumbled, forgetting that it was no use. Her arms moved through him like a ghost.

Solas watched his friend fall to the bottom of the stairs, regret bubbling up inside of him at what he’d done. And still, the sense of doubt from Varric’s words lingered, sullying Solas’s certainty as innocent blood seeped through the fabric of his gloves.

He steeled himself with cold resolve and turned away.

The gray of the Fade prison came back into view. Sulah felt like she had been in Solas’s memories for hours, but neither her body nor his had moved from the ground against the wall. He watched her with bated breath, his jaw clenched, eyes glossy with fresh tears. Moments ago, she watched him command a rebellion, steadfast and resolute and proud. A powerful god among mortals. But the Solas in front of her now held little of the immense ancient spirit she’d seen. He was only a man, broken from the weight of his regrets.

“I cannot ask for your forgiveness, vhenan. Not even your understanding.” His voice broke, his next words spoken through a sob. “I am so sorry that I let you fall in love with a monster.”

Solas hugged his knees to his chest. His hands shook and his body trembled as he cried. It was pure, raw, searing emotion—and it was the first time she had ever seen him lose control of himself. Sulah had been lonely for years, yearning for the man who felt like home while sleeping cold in an empty bed, but she’d never felt as alone as she felt now, sitting in the vast emptiness of the Fade with a god shedding centuries’ worth of repressed agony that she could never possibly comprehend. He was the one who always seemed to know what to do, who had a plan for everything. He was the one more familiar with the Fade than the waking world. But he was also the one who had to face his regrets. His pain. And he had already proven that he couldn’t do that on his own.

“Solas,” she said, quiet and sad. “You killed Varric.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked through tears.

“I… I knew he was gone, but no one…” she trailed off, thinking back to the letter she received from Morrigan shortly after she met Rook and the others. Varric was gravely injured in an altercation. He did not make it. I am sorry you have to find out this way. “No one told me it was by your hand.”

“They were protecting you,” he said. “From the truth of what I am. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done so.”

Sulah sat in silence, trying to piece it all together in her mind.

“I never meant to hurt Varric,” Solas whispered. “I have harmed so many people, innocent people, and Varric… Varric….”

He stopped speaking and rested his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall on his armor.

“My love—”

“How can you possibly still love me, Sulah?” he snapped, a wolf showing his fangs. “I deserve whatever cruel fate awaits me here. You do not.”

“Solas—”

“Would you truly—”

“Let me speak,” she said, stern and commanding. Her Inquisitor voice, the other members liked to call it. It worked. Solas nodded for her to continue. “To heal from your past, you have to confront it. It will be painful, but you must. Tell me about Varric.”

Solas sighed and let his head fall back to the wall, the apex of his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Varric was a good man. He was my friend.” He closed his eyes and Sulah watched as a single tear ran down his bloodied face. She tried to hold back her own tears, but they streamed warm down her cheeks nonetheless.

“What would you say to him if he were here?”

“That it is one of my greatest regrets, one that I desperately wish I could take back. That I enjoyed his company on our journey years ago, and that I have missed him in the years since. And that I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Like a prayer, the final words escaped Solas’s mouth in a despondent whisper. In the distance, a structure resembling the skyline of Kirkwall crumbled. Sulah recognized it from her visit several years ago. She had only made it to Kirkwall once in the time that Varric was viscount, a position he reluctantly accepted, but one that she always suspected he secretly enjoyed. He took her to the cliffs of Sundermount, where Dalish sometimes set up camp. It looked remarkably like the area of the Free Marches her clan frequented before she left.

“I thought it might remind you of home”, he had said.

“I came here to see* your *home, Varric.”

“We’re doing that too.” he pointed across the water to the silhouetted, square buildings.

She smiled at the memory and let herself cry as the Kirkwall replica became an avalanche of stone plummeting into the abyss. When its final, broken pieces fell, Solas turned back to her and took a long breath. She looked at him, attempting to reconcile the Solas she knew and loved, the Solas in front of her now, with the Solas she saw in his memories. There was a cruel pride deep inside of him, one he tried to keep from her for so long. She could see it now, and it was fractured.

How could she possibly come to terms with all he had done? He had taken Varric away from this world, a man who, despite his faults, brought hope and friendship and humor into the world around him. She could feel the empty, aching shells of all the hearts who missed him—including her own. There were more adventures to be had, more books to be written, and Solas took it away. Away from Varric, away from the world. Sulah couldn’t bring herself to consider the even larger things he had done. The man she loved was responsible for the Blight. He tranquilized the Titans. He murdered his friends—sometimes on accident, sometimes for what he considered betrayal.

Sulah steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the air flowing in and out of her lungs. She let the world fall away until she could feel nothing but the essence of her soul spreading into her limbs, making her weightless. If Solas was a spirit of wisdom, what was she, deep down? A word stirred somewhere in the depths of her heart: patience.

“This is going to take a long time, vhenan.” Solas’s words roused her from contemplation.

“Yes,” she said. “For both of us, I think.”

For the first time since reuniting, he touched her of his own accord, studying her prosthetic arm with gentle fingers before resting his hand on her thigh beside it.

“It’s a good thing time doesn’t exist in the Fade, then.” Sulah placed her remaining hand on top of his. “To answer your earlier question, I choose to still love you despite your mistakes, Solas. I love you because I tried to move on, to meet other people, but none of them could touch whatever piece of my soul that you do. Every person I tried to give my heart to was a flimsy bandage over a gaping wound. And I had to reconcile with myself that I love someone who would tear the world apart for his own stubborn pride. I know your heart, Solas. You are more than your mistakes.”

Sulah felt as if a small part of the rift between them had stitched itself back together; a fragile scar translucent and deep, but healing nonetheless. For a moment, the insurmountable hurdles she would have to help him overcome fell away. It was just the two of them, together in the Fade like all those years ago. She knew how the world would see them: the lovestruck Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf. The cautionary tale of a Dalish girl who fell right into the jaws of Fen’Harel himself.

“Sulah,” Solas reached for her face with both hands, holding her like he had to be sure she wasn’t a mere reflection of his desire. “As long as you will have me, I swear to you: I will never abandon you again. You will have me, always.”

His kiss was soft, but charged with intention. Devotion. As they broke apart, he pulled Sulah into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ar lath ma vhenan. Bellanaris.”

[blackberrysummerblog]

Wow, it feels like FOREVER since I posted anything. Thanks so much for the tags today @roomwithanopenfire, @meanjeansjeans, @monbons, @orange-peony, @nausikaaa, and @forabeatofadrum. And thank you so much to everyone else who’s been tagging me! I really do appreciate you all <3 It’s nice to see so many people creating! I’ve been feeling supremely UNcreative the past few weeks, but these things come and go, especially when life gets busy.

I do have some things to share! Here’s a snippet from one:

“We can send it to Oxford if you don’t want it in the flat, love,” Baz tells me as I sit on the bed and stare at the floor. He sits beside me and nudges my shoulder with his. “I can hide it away so well that you never have to lay eyes on it again.”

I let my head flop over so that it rests beneath his jaw. “Yeah, maybe.” A little snort escapes me as I grab hold of that thought. “Your dad’ll lose his rag if he finds out it’s there, imagine.”

And another:

Simon is cute, I suppose, in an apple-cheeked hero-who-saves-the-day sort of way. He’s gotten taller this year, although we’re still about the same height. You can see he was made to be broad, and he’s put on a lot of muscle. His skin and hair are nearly the same colour—a literal golden boy. Simon looks like what everyone expects for me. My magic isn’t particularly exceptional, and neither are my grades, but I’m pleasant to look at and refined—I have better manners than to be wearing shoes on the bed and letting my skirt ride up over my knickers, like Philippa is doing right now. I’m the sort of girl people expect to see on Simon’s arm. The sort of girl who will raise his perfect children.

A different one:

“Please,” I whimper. It sounds pathetic, but his smile is like the sun bursting out from behind a cloud. We kiss for what feels like hours; I’ve learned that he likes to treat making out like a mission, one whose mysteries he has to unlock and pry loose to succeed. He likes when I tell him what to do, and when I praise him for getting it right. The day I found out what ‘good boy’ could do for him was a very, very interesting one indeed. And most of all, his name. I’ll never tell him that I deliberately hold back calling him Simon lest it lose its power. “Simon,” I whisper now, with his hands on my waist, his mouth latched on my throat. “Good boy, Simon.”

And finally:

Dev’s makeup is more dramatic than mine, but I have to admit that bright colours suit him. His searing red lipstick is somewhat unfortunately applied however, having been slicked on well after getting in his cups. He still looks brilliant, full of life. A deep, abiding warmth settles into my gut as I watch my little family—it feels good to be together like this again. Dev’s free spirit is catching, and I move behind the kitchen door to pull the silver dress on, much to Fiona and Ebb’s delight.

I hope everyone has a great week, and if you’re planning to celebrate Thanksgiving, have safe travels and good times with friends and family <3

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