#sloane writes

[utterlyazriel]

let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

[sloane-is-alone]

hey i’m sloane (she/her)!

i’m 20 and am a biology student and love to fuck around and write poems and stories purely for the vibes.

just sharing my work here hope you like them!

[floralpascal]

Surprise

Summary: Lingerie drives John absolutely mad and you’ve been waiting to surprise him with the new set you bought…

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.9k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: lingerie, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), riding that man the way he deserves to be ridden

A/N: Lingerie lover Price has been in my head for literal months and I’m so happy this is finally finished!

You didn’t know how long you’ve been laying here waiting for an opportunity. You knew it would come, it had to. The only question was, when?

You had seen your chance around thirty minutes ago. John had shed his black, oversized zip-up hoodie, leaving him in nothing but his matching sweatpants. As much as you loved drinking in his shirtless form in the pale midmorning light, you knew that you had to take the chance he unwittingly opened up by leaving his jacket unattended on the back of a kitchen chair. Distracted by some paperwork, John hadn’t noticed when you discreetly pulled the soft hoodie from the chair beside him. 

Laying on your bed, the fluffy, oversized hoodie was now the only thing keeping you warm. You had traded your own warm clothes for the new set of lingerie you had bought months ago. The crimson lace set had sat in the bottom of your drawer ever since, awaiting the perfect time to reveal it to John. The zipper of the hoodie was drawn down just below your bra line, enough to tease what hid below and pontificate the fact that you were bare in every other way. While you were sure that showing off this much skin would more than capture the man’s attention, it was cold while you waited, the morning air frigid as it slipped through the opening of your stolen hoodie.

The hoodie smelled like him. Mahogany and ash, thick and heedy. You let it envelop you, basking in the smell of home. It was the same smell found on his side of the bed, the one that you would always savor when he was gone. 

“Love?” John called from down the hall. “Love, where are you?” 

You tried to tamp down your butterflies as you simply responded, “Bedroom!”

You heard the thuds of his footsteps as he made his way down the hallway, skin against hardwood. You readjusted on the bed so that he would have the perfect view from the doorway, your bare legs extended out in front of you and his hoodie positioned so that the crimson peeked out at the top and the bottom. 

He called out from the hallway, “Have you seen my blue thumb drive? I’ve been lookin’ everywhere and I can’t find the bloody thi-”

John froze the moment he rounded the corner, his eyes landing on you with his mouth ajar and his arm frozen mid neck scratch. His attention slid from your face down your body, locking onto the burning red bra and underwear half-hidden by his own piece of clothing. He was frozen as he took you in, eyes wide. 

It took every ounce of willpower you had to maintain a facade of innocence. Blinking up at him through your lashes as if nothing was amiss, you replied, “I think the thumb drive is on the coffee table.”

John’s eyes snapped up to yours, pupils already blown wide. In a mere second, he switched from the soft, domestic man that had made you breakfast that morning to a man starved. This was the John that wrecked you for hours on end, the John that you had so hoped to draw out with your little stunt. You burned under the intensity of his gaze, giddy adrenaline shooting through you. 

Got him. 

John slowly strode to the bed, his eyes never leaving your form. Wordlessly, he crawled onto the bed so that you had to lay down for him to climb over top of you. Every muscle in his upper body was pulled taut as he settled over you, one knee on either side of your thighs. He planted one hand on the mattress beside your head and hovered the other over your midsection, clearly holding himself back from touching you while he eyed the present displayed beneath him. 

“I thought you needed that thumb drive?” You teased, your voice low and laced with excitement. It was impossible to hide it now, not with the way he was looking down at you like he wanted to absolutely devour you. 

“I don’t give a damn about that thumb drive right now, baby, ‘n you know it,” he nearly whispered, the low timber of his voice sending another shot of adrenaline through your veins. He trailed his hand down your exposed chest, your skin pebbling in his wake. Slipping his hand down to the black hoodie that hugged your frame, he moved a bit of it out of the way so he could get a better view of your front. “I was wonderin’ where this went.”

You gave him a mischievously innocent smile again, tugging at the soft fabric and pretending like you were about to take it off. “Well, if you need it back I’ll just-”

“No,” he rushed, sincerity in both his tone and his eyes even though he knew for a fact you were only baiting him. He was stern as he ordered, “Keep it on.”

“Yes, sir.”

John’s eyes flicked up to yours, burning brighter than a thousand suns. You weren’t cold now. No, now you felt like you were on fire, ablaze under the intensity of his gaze. You knew exactly how to play him, exactly which buttons to push to get that look in his eyes that you now saw. 

“You’re a damn minx, love,” he groaned. Focusing his attention on your midsection once again, he slowly tugged the zipper down, gradually baring more and more of your skin to him. Once it was undone, he moved the soft fabric to your sides, leaving nothing blocking his view of your form. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured reverentially, his eyes wide as he took you in. He ran his hand down your torso, reveling in the way you keened under his touch. Despite the growing heat, the glide of his calloused fingers against your soft skin gave you chills. His hands traveled everywhere, lightly grasping at every inch of your torso and thighs as he drank in every bit of you. His eyes were clouded with love and lust as he lowered himself down and pressed his lips to the exposed valley between your breasts. 

“John…” you pleaded softly.

John moved down to your stomach, his lips pressing a slow, sensual trail down, down, down. One hand kneaded your side while the other opened your thighs wider for him. Soon enough, he was nestled between your thighs, his broad shoulders making you open wide for him. His hungry eyes flicked from the strip of barely-there crimson lace that covered your core to your eager face. One side of his mustache quirked up in a teasing smile. 

“How long ‘ave you been waiting in here, baby?” He asked before hooking his pointer finger in your underwear to swipe through your folds. A full, satisfied smile bloomed on his face when he found you already dripping, enough that the inside of the underwear was already soaked. “Tha’ answers my question: a while.”

You bucked your hips against his hand as you rasped, “Please, John.”

“You’ve been so patient,” he cooed, continuing to run his finger up and down your slit. “You deserve it, all wrapped up for me like the most gorgeous present I’ve ever seen.”

“Just for you.”

He groaned at that, eyes raking over you spread out before him. “I’m the luckiest fuckin’ man.”

Without any further preamble, he slid a finger into you. It was slow at first, an unhurried slide in and a gradual slide out. Being soaking wet, it already wasn’t enough, only enough to tease you of more to come. 

He looked up at you as he continued to pump in and out, seemingly trying to burn this image of you in his mind. When you whined, looking for more, simply added a second finger into your heat, mumbling, “Tha’s it, love.”

You grabbed the sheets beside your head with one hand, slowly arching your back so that John got a good look at your barely-covered chest. A groan ripped through him at the sight, his love for how your form looked in the tantalizing lingerie something you knew exactly how to fuel.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” he groaned, his voice even lower and more gravelly than normal. The combination of his lust-filled voice and his praise made you clench down on the two fingers moving slowly deep inside you. 

Then, John pulled the thin lace panties even farther to the side, dipping his head down towards your core. No matter how many times you felt his tongue on you, you could never fully prepare to feel it again. He started where his fingers were sliding into you, the heat of his tongue sliding up, up, up until it found your clit. He circled the bundle of nerves slowly at first, his expert movements pulling a whine from you. 

His beard scratched against your skin, surely to leave a beard burn for later like it had so many times before. But you couldn’t care. Right now, the feeling only added to the overwhelming pleasure that was building in your stomach.

Mouth moving in tandem with his fingers, he began to steadily increase his speed. Now, John did nothing short of devour you, the pace he set almost overwhelming. He worshiped you, his mouth showing you more than it could ever tell. 

Your hand flew down to grasp at his soft brown hair, barely able to find enough to hold onto. 

“John! Fuck, don’t stop, baby. Don’t–” you babbled, your sentence devolving into a moan. 

John’s throaty groan sent shockwaves through you as he ground his hips against the bed, searching for his own relief. On any normal day, it would take a lot longer before he was this desperate, his self-control usually as strong as steel… until you eventually broke it. By the time he finally cracked – his need for you finally overtaking his self-control – he had already slowly and meticulously taken you apart and put you back together more times than you could count. But lingerie, you had found, shattered that self-control like it was glass almost immediately. Once his eyes landed on you, he was gone. There was no teasing, no edging, no slow buildup when he was like this. He needed you. 

The coil that had been tightening in your stomach finally snapped, pleasure flooding your senses. You arched against John’s face, your thighs trapping him between them. Unbothered, he simply continued to wreck you, working you through the high as your muscles jumped at each swipe of his tongue.

“Fuck!” you heaved. You lightly tugged on his light brown strands of hair as you released him from your thighs. Taking the hint, he pulled his fingers from you before trailing kisses up your body. When his lips finally met yours, he quickly slipped his tongue past your lips. 

Trailing a hand over the front of his soft sweatpants, you found him hard and straining against the material. John groaned against your lips at the pressure before pushing up to shed his pants and boxers, tossing the garments carelessly to the floor. His cock was red and already weeping as he fisted himself a few times, his eyes raking over you hungrily.

“Wish you could see how fuckin’ beautiful you look, love,” he lamented as he leaned down to you again. “Had me about to come in my boxers like I’m a bloody teenager again.”

You hummed, letting him settle his hips between your thighs once again. “Then we wouldn’t get to my favorite part,” you quipped. “Maybe I should tone it down a little then.”

John guided his cock through your folds before he finally began to push in, inch by glorious inch, the stretch pulling a moan from you. He whispered, “You’ll get it. You’ll take every bit of me just like you wanted.”

Clawing your fingers into the soft flesh of his back, you tried to relax as you acclimated to his size. The few testing thrusts he made added fuel to the fire already ablaze in the pit of your stomach. There he was, deep inside you and yet all you wanted — all you needed — was more. You needed more of him, needed everything he could give you. 

You leaned up and kissed his collarbone, silently letting him know that you were ready. Then, John fulfilled your every wish, almost as if he had been reading your mind. 

He pressed up so that he hovered above you, eyes glassy with lust as he took you in beneath him before he drew himself out of you and promptly snapped his hips to yours once again. He took in every one of your movements — the way you rocked with the force of his thrust, the way you pushed against the bed as you moaned his name — almost as if he was searing the sight into his brain. It would be a warm memory for him to take with him when he would inevitably be called away to some place on the other side of the world, a memory to keep him warm on some cold, lonely night. Hell, it would be for you, too.

He built up to a bruising pace, one that stole the air from your lungs. All you could do was let yourself be swept away in the tidal waves of ecstasy.

John. John. John. That’s all there was. 

A rough, calloused hand slid up your stomach to knead at the plush of your covered breast. Through the thin lace, his fingers played with your nipple, his touch electric.

“Tha’s it, baby. Tha’s it…”

“Fuck!” You moaned. 

If you had any sense left, you would’ve wondered how John could have the inhuman stamina that he fucked you with now. No normal man could ever hold the pace that he slammed his hips into yours over and over again. White hot pleasure burned in your veins, your moans flowing free as he wrecked you. 

You danced at the edge of your orgasm for what felt like forever, every one of John’s grunts in your ear bringing you closer and closer to the finish line. Finally, with a particularly rough slam of his hips into yours, you tumbled over that precipice, free-falling in pure ecstasy. 

John fucked you through it, allthewhile mumbling breathy words of encouragement. “Ju’s like tha’.  Come for me, beautiful.”

As you came down, you found John chasing his own high. Despite your current state, you couldn’t help but want to show off one last time to help bring him the same pleasure you had just found.

“John… John, wanna ride you.”

Stark blue eyes snapped open to find yours, lust completely consuming his every feature. There was nothing he loved more than the sight of you riding him on a normal day, let alone one where you were dressed in the thing that drove him wild. For the second time that day, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. 

Soon, he was seated on the bed and you were throwing your leg over his hip before sinking back down onto him again. Finally free to roam, his strong, steady hands kneaded at your thighs, your ass, your hips as he took in the sight of you above him like a man starved. 

As you began to move your hips, John’s grip on you tightened. With his head in a particularly ideal spot, hot lips lavished your collarbone, teeth nipping as he made his way down the valley of your breasts. 

You sped up the movement of your hips, his hips beginning to move in time with yours. Suddenly, he pulled the both of you down so that he was laying back on the bed with you over top of him, the sides of your hoodie falling over his chest. From this position, he was able to plant his feet to fuck up into you as you rode him. 

As you both continued to build back up to a punishing pace, John threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as he groaned out a strained, “Fuck! F-fuckin’ - ah - ‘ell!”

John wasn’t a quiet man in bed by any means, but he didn’t usually yell out like this unless he was completely lost in you. It was a telltale sign that he was almost there. 

“Come for me, John,” you moaned. “Give it to me, baby. Fill me up.”

With a deep groan, John roughly grabbed your hips and fucked into you as deep as he could. Hot cum coated your walls as he slowly fucked it into you. The strong muscle of his stomach jumped under you as he emptied everything he had, his breath ragged. 

His eyes were squeezed shut beneath you, closed from the force of his orgasm. Slowly, you leaned down and kissed him lightly. His eyes fluttered open only long enough to find you, curl his hand over the back of your head, and pull you down for a proper, heated kiss. 

I love you, it said. Unmistakably: I love you. 

“I think you got a little sidetracked from your work,” you laughed. 

John chuckled, sarcastically rolling his eyes. “I think you’ve cleared my schedule for the day, you bloody gorgeous minx.”

“Is that so? You must really like the red lace.”

Slowly, he guided his hoodie down your arms and tossed it to the side. 

“I do…” John whispered in your ear. 

His fingers ghosted up your back before unhooking your bra and tossing it carelessly to the floor just as he had done with the hoodie, leaving your chest bare. 

“But I like you more.”

[swiftsdelucaa]

Mark Sloan x reader who is best friends with Meredith. They secretly get together a few weeks after he arrives in Seattle. A few months later she starts to feel sick and Meredith asks her if she could be pregnant. She recognizes she might be and takes a test. It comes out positive. She freaks out and Meredith calms her down. Meredith still doesn't know about her and Mark so she keeps begging the reader to tell her who the father is. This goes on for a few days, with a few friends joining in on the questioning. She hasn't told Mark yet though. During one of these conversations, Mark overhears them and drops the files he's holding. He goes to the reader and says “We're having a baby?” with a huge smile on his face. She nods and he hugs and kisses her. Meanwhile, those listening in are completely shocked because nobody saw that coming. Please?

❛ 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x Pregnant!reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: This was very specific ahah, hope you'll like it anon!

You rushed into the locker room, hoping you weren't late, luckily they were all still there.

"Where were you?" you have been warmly welcomed by your group.

"I was- I've just- well now I'm here" you took off your shirt starting to get ready, without adding details about your horrible morning.

"Oh the girl has a secret lover" Cristina said. You ignored her. "Maybe Jackson knows something more" she continued.

"What the hell are you saying?" he looked at her confused as he finished getting dressed.

"Wait, Jackson?!" April added in a worried tone.

"Kepner calm down" Lexie said to her.

"Okay stop, there isn't any secret lover anywhere" you said shutting up everyone.

A few minutes later everyone had already left, except Meredith, she was waiting for you. You were sitting on one of the benches staring into space.

"Y/n, are you okay?" the blonde sat next to you putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Umh, yeah..." you stood up to get ready to join the others, but just before you went to the door you stopped feeling the urge to throw up.

"Oh hey" Meredith got up quickly to help you. "Oh my God, are you pregnant?"

"What?" you recovered while she accompanied you to the bathroom to rinse your face.

"So?" Meredith's curious voice interrupted your stillness. You looked at her as if to ask where she was getting at, and a smile appeared on her face. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" she asked again.

Actually you didn't know what to answer her, it could be possible.

"I... don't know..." you said confused.

"Okay, stay here, I'm going to get a test" she rushed out to find one, the hospital definitely had one.

Meanwhile you sat down for a moment. How would Mark react? I mean, you'd been dating for a few months now and no one knew about it, but you had no idea what he would think about the idea of having a baby.

"Okay, here's!" Meredith came back suddenly making you scare. You took the test without thinking twice, anxiety was starting to rise. One day you would have thought about having baby and starting a family, but one day... now it would have been challenging, the residency was already giving you enough stress. But that day had come sooner than you thought, what the test said was clear.

You came out of the bathroom where Meredith was waiting for you.

"Positive?" you answered her by nodding and she jumped up to come towards you.

"Are we happy?" she asked you tried to hold back her excitement.

"I-" anxiety began to take over. "I'm just starting out, how do I handle all this? It's a miracle I can remember my keys when I go out, I don't have the responsibility like a good mother would have!" you were about to freak out.

"Ok, you're panicking, calm down" Meredith made you sit back on the bench. "You will have time for your baby, when you see him he'll become the only thing that matters to you, and well then you will become more responsible too… I hope" you let out a small laugh.

"You're right" you managed to come to your senses, while a huge smile was created on your face. "I'm gonna have a baby!" you exclaimed realizing the situation.

"Yeah!" Meredith literally choked you trying to hug you.

"Wait, so you really have a secret lover?" she asked more curious. You weren't ready to tell her, but you couldn't deny it, because the baby was there and he certainly couldn't have created on his own. "Oh my God is really Jackson?!"

"What? No!" she wouldn't even leave you alone for a second until you told her who the father was. For now you used the excuse of going back to work to get out of the way, but you should have thought of something else in the future. Even if she sooner or later she would find out.

During the day you managed to find a moment for yourself, alone to rest in one of the call rooms, when you then heard the sound of the door opening.

"We had the same idea" you got out of bed having recognized the voice.

"Hey" you approached Mark to kiss him. He smiled at you as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look happy" he told you.

"I am" you kept looking at him smiling. You were so torn between telling him or waiting, but your pager preceded all your thoughts.

"Fuck, I'm sorry I have to..."

"I know" he gave you one last little kiss to greet you, you looked at him one last time before leaving. Yes, you would have waited.

Meanwhile, as these weeks went by, the thing that annoyed you and made difficult to go on the most wasn't the early pregnancy symptoms, but Meredith. God, you didn't think she could get this annoying. She wanted to know at all costs who the father of the baby was, sometimes you just wanted to disappear from the world for this. Yeah well, you would have done the same thing in her side, but it was so frustrating.

"Please Y/n, I won't say to anyone, you can trust me!" at one point you stopped to think about it. She was important to you, your lives depended on each other, telling her wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Okay... I have someone here in this hospital..." you sighed before revealing his name. "It's Mark"

"Mark Sloan?!" she repeated raising her eyebrows almost in shock.

"Yes, Mark and I are having a baby!" you repeated too, still almost incredulous.

"Are we going to have a baby?" you whipped around behind you at hearing her voice as he dropped the file he was holding. This wasn't exactly the moment you wanted him to know, so you looked at him nodding.

"Oh my God Y/n!" he approached you embracing you tightly, even managing to convey to you all the happiness he felt at that moment, then he began to kiss you intensely, not caring about the people who were around there. You wouldn't expected this reaction but you were so happy.

"I love you Y/n" at that moment all those hormones could have made you cry.

"I love you too Mark" you went back to kissing him. Meredith was smiling at you from behind, while everyone was completely paralyzed by the news.

"Y/n's having a baby?"

"Sloan's having a baby??"

"Wait, Mark and Y/n are together?!" Cristina, Lexie, Jackson and April were there wondering and unable to grasp the whole situation.

"Why is no one working in this fucking hospital?" you said confused and annoyed that they found out it too like this.

"Don't care about it, we'll be the best family in the world" he put his hand on your cheek to caress you as your foreheads rested against each other.

[lunarw0rks]

♡♡♡ this gif gives neighbor!price vibes ♡♡♡

girl dinner

[multifandomsimagine]

Imagine Addison noticing Mark's feelings for you

It's the look on Mark's face that causes Addison to slow her walk as she's walking on the bridge. He's resting his arms against the railing, looking down at something on the first floor. He has an unconscious smile growing, tender and soft eyes gazing below to the first floor of the hospital as whatever he's watching has him practically radiating joy.

Addison might have first gotten to know Mark because he was Derek's best friend but she had gotten to know him and become close to him, close enough to call him a friend. There had been a rough patch because of what happened in New York but that didn't erase their history together. And it's because of that history that she knows that the look on his face means something.

She walked over to the side of the bridge, making sure that she was far away from Mark to not startle him out of his trance, before looking over the edge. Addison doesn't notice anything unusual at first as the hospital lobby looks like it does any other day. In the seating area were families fidgeting in their seats, picking at the armrests as they waited, desperate for any news on their loved ones. The nurses stations were buzzing with activity, some typing on the computer, some jotted down notes as they updated charts, and others were walking to different patients as they talked to doctors to update them on the patient's latest status. Doctors passed through, jogging to make their way to their operations or to patients who needed their attention.

With nothing catching her eyes, Addison looks to Mark again and carefully follows his eyesight to the last group in the lobby: the interns. The interns had split into smaller groups - Izzie and George were whispering to each other while you, Christina, and Alex were talking - as you all waited for Meredith. But it's not the whole group that Mark is staring at. No, the soft look in his eyes is directed at you.

Addison watches as his eyes follow your every move, as you gesture to the duo as you tell them about the surgery you assisted in - if she's interpreting your gestures correctly. She raises an eyebrow when she notices Mark's grip on the railing tightens slightly when Alex leans closer to your ear and whispers something to you. Neither one of them can hear what is being said but they can hear your reaction as you push Alex away while you throw your head back in a loud laugh.

Having seen enough to make her own deduction, Addison makes her way to Mark. He doesn't notice her presence as he continues to stare down at you.

"You've also changed."

Mark is startled out of gazing and turns his head to look at her. At his questioning look, she nudges her head toward you and his eyes dart over to you before meeting her gaze once more.

"You sleep with many people and flirt with even more, making it clear that there are no strings attached but," she gestures to you, "I can see the string here."

Mark gets off of the railing and shakes his head. "It's not like that. We're just—"

Addison gives him a look and Mark pauses, letting out a sigh. "I don't know what this is. It's different from what I've felt before but I don't know." He shakes his head. Even though he tries to stop himself, his eyes search for you once more and he watches you and the rest of the interns, now that Meredith has finally joined you all, make your way to the exit. He can't help the smile that shows when he sees you smiling as well.

A faint smile grows on Addison's face at the tender look on Mark's face appears once more. This is a different side to Mark, one that she never knew existed but is happy to see. "Change isn't a bad thing. You should embrace this feeling. It looks good on you."

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Should I Stay, or Should I Go?

Happy Monday! I hope I did this request justice, tried to keep it light with a bit of angst. Not sure where I want these two to end up but let me know what you think!

Requested by the lovely @caseyandsloan

Pairing: Mark Sloan x Fem!Reader (gave her a name but no descriptions used)

Warnings: A bit of Angst, Mark being Mark.

“Annalise, wait-“

I rolled my eyes at the sound of the familiar voice trailing behind me.

“Don’t you dare ‘Annalise’ me. It’s DOCTOR Grey to you, Doctor Sloan. I have no interest in speaking to you so please go whore yourself to any other attending,”

I continue walking until I reach the nursing bay, pulling out one of my patient’s charts and looking into their case. Mark stood in front of me, and gave me an apologetic smile.

“Fine, “Doctor” Grey, can you please just hear me out. I came to Seattle to find you, to apologize. I want to be part of your life again. What I did was a mistake, but you have to know that I never stopped loving you,” he pleaded, his eyes begging me to believe him.

My heart wavered, feeling a million and one emotions in a span of a few seconds. Our life together flashed before my eyes; our first date, our time during medical school together with our friends, being best man and maid of honor at Derek and Addison’s wedding, finding out we were pregnant. The last memory to cross my mind however, was the scene I walked into back in New York. The way he and my ex-best friend Addison Montgomery, were in bed together. My gaze immediately hardened once more.

“Here’s what you’re NOT going to do, Mark. You’re not going to show up to my place of work and bat your baby blue eyes at me in hopes of me taking you back. You ripped my heart into *shreads* Mark. I loved you. Part of me still does. But you don’t get to prey on that minuscule part of me. Not anymore. Now get the hell out of my sight before I call security,” I could feel my eyes water as I glared at him, the hurt fueling my heart.

Before Mark could say anything else, I heard a voice I’d never been more thankful speaking up from behind me.

“Is everything alright, Annalise?” I turned to find Miranda Bailey staring at me with her arms crossed, turning her head to shoot daggers at Mark. My sister, Meredith, was standing beside her along with the rest of the interns, looking on.

“Everything’s fine Miranda, thank you. Come on Meredith, I think you and Yang on my service today,” I walked forward, hearing my sister’s sneakers trail behind me. Rounding the corner I paused against the nearest wall and let out a deep breath. Meredith came to a short stop behind me.

“So…who was that?”

I scoffed humorlessly. “That, Mer, was Mark Sloan,”

“Wait. THE Mark Sloan? The guy who slept with your best friend? Derek’s best friend?Jolie’s father? THAT Mark Sloan?” Meredith’s eyes widened comically and both she and Christina looked back down the hall, as if trying to catch a glimpse of the man in question.

“Yup. The one and only jackass,” I huffed. I took a deep breath, put on my game face, and pushed off the wall. Mark Sloan had taken so much from me, and I wasn’t going to let him piss me off at my place of work anymore.

“Wait, wait. Derek’s best friend, who slept with Derek’s WIFE was married to you, Derek’s other best friend? What, was this some sort of doctor orgy?” Christina said as we made our way to our first patient.

“First off, we were never married. We were together for six years. But welcome to the Grey-Sloan-Shepherd family dynamic, Yang. Stick around, there’s so much more to come,” I rolled my eyes as we reached the patient’s room. The day continued and I managed to forget about Mark. That is, until I saw Derek punch him in the middle of the nursing bay. I gasped, along with the rest of the on-lookers before following Derek with my eyes as he walked away.

“That was one hell of a punch, Shepherd’s a badass!” I turned to see Alex Karev smirking to George O’Malley who looked like a fish out of water as his eyes trailed between Derek, Mark, Meredith, and finally to me. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he immediately looked away, a deep blush spreading along his cheeks.

I sighed. Fuck, this was going to be one hell of a fucking day.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The sound of a lunch tray slamming down onto the table tartled me from my deep thoughts. I looked up to see Callie Torres and Miranda Bailey looking at me sheepishly. I nodded and both women sat down, waiting for me to speak first. I rolled my eyes playfully, taking a bite of my carrot.

“Go on, I know you want to ask..”

“Holy SHIT, Anna. THAT’s Mark? He’s fucking hot!” Callie gushed, looking around to make sure the man in question wasn’t around. Bailey scoffed and nudged Callie.

“Torres!”

I laughed at Bailey’s exclamation.

“No, she’s right Miranda. He’s ridiculously hot. But he’s also the biggest asshole on the planet,” I shrugged, taking a sip of my coke.

“Mind if we ask what happened? All we know is that you came to Seattle after breaking up with your ex. There’s definitely more to that if he’s back here begging for you to take him back.” Callie said, smiling sympathetically. I let out a deep breath and allowed myself to think back to the good old days.

“What’s there to tell? He was the love of my life and we were happy. And then he decided to fuck my best friend, in turn hurting both me and HIS own best friend.”

Both women stayed silent, knowing that there was more to come.

“Two years ago Mark and I were the couple that everyone was jealous of. The country’s most well renowned plastic surgeon and cardio thoracic surgeon, tackling New York together. Mark, Derek, Addison and I were truly the best of friends. Addy and I grew up together and when we met Mark and Derek in college the four of us were inseparable. Derek and Addison got married after we all got our PhD’s and Mark and I were over the moon for them.

“A few months after the wedding, I found out I was pregnant. And after seeing how happy Mark was at Derek’s wedding I assumed he’d be just as happy about the baby. I mean, we spoke about our future all the time but I guess it was just all talk to Mark. The second I mentioned I was pregnant, he changed. He started staying late at Cornell, taking on case after case. It was like he was never home. And I didn’t question it, I just assumed he was busy, maybe even working hard to save up for the baby. But one rainy night, Derek and I worked a late together and he offered to drive me back home when we finished up. Since’s Derek and Addison’s place was close by, we walked there so Derek could grab his car from the garage. The second we walked in to the house, we both knew something was up. The sight of a familiar leather jacket on the ground next to a pair of haphazardly tossed heels made my stomach drop. Derek and I shared a glance, both of our hearts breaking simultaneously.

“Derek walked up the steps to his bedroom while I did my best to keep myself from hyperventilating. The second I heard Addison’s gasp and Mark’s voice calling out for Derek, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Derek flew back down the stairs, eyes watery. Our gaze locked and he grabbed his keys and raincoat, pulling me by my hand, doing his best to drag me out of the house but not before a familiar silloutte stood at the top of the stairs.

“Annalise…”

Mark’s voice cracked with shame and my tears finally spilled over. That was the last time Mark and I saw each other. Derek and I immediately went back to the hospital where we spent the night consoling each other in silence. We were shocked. Sick to our stomaches. Devastated. Jolie was born 7 months after that and it’s just been the three of us ever since. I officially made Derek Jolie’s God-Father and we’ve been happy. Mark tried to reach out multiple times but I packed up and left Seattle shortly there after. Changed my number and just lived my life for my little girl.

So watching Derek sucker punch Mark truly made my day. I even got myself a cookie to celebrate,” I took a bite of the cookie in hand and smiled at the women infront of me.

They both looked disheartened and yet happy to have gotten the full story.

“Thank you for telling us Anna. If you need anything at all, we’ve got your back,” Callie said, smiling and placing a hand over mine. Miranda nodded.

“Absolutely. I’ll kick that little shit in the balls if he ever attempts to come near you if I have to,” I laughed and smiled back at them, happy to have friends like them.

Hours passed and I was staring at the OR grease-board while chewing on a twizzler before hearing two familiar voices off to my left.

“Welcome aboard Doctor Sloan, Seattle Grace is proud to have you,”

I turned to see Chief Webber shaking hands with Mark. My mouth dropped open, Derek standing a few feet behind me with the same look on his face. I felt like a fish out of water, my heart racing. Suprise, sadness, fear and rage bubbled inside me and before I knew it, I felt myself explode.

“What the fuck Chief!”

Please let me know if you’re interested in a part two. Do you think Annalise should forgive Mark down the line, or should a new love interest join in on all the fun?

[momokodaisy]

Extremely Late Umbrella Academy Textposts That Have Definitely Been Done Before (13/?) prev

[4st4rion]

we could grow

ao3 link

i was having a Time and just needed to write about astarion not feeling pressured into sex so. you can see this as an alternate take on his first scene or a 'deleted' scene before that one

1.4k, fully gender neutral tav. rated mature+. has him feeding from you then lots of kissing and mild spiciness. second person pov and no spoilers

His teeth hurt so badly you want to scream as they pierce your flesh, scraping nerve endings and puncturing just right to open your veins to him.

First, it hurts, it hurts, but then there's... Something else. A gentle numbing that spreads from your neck across your chest and into your belly, slowly becoming something else as it takes effect.

His moan is muffled into your skin when he sucks another mouthful of blood from you.

You gather the strength to reach up, threading your fingers into his hair, but instead of yanking him off of you like you should, you hold him close.

He adjusts on his knees — he knelt beside you when you 'got comfortable' for him to feed, but now, he straddles you slowly. You could stop him, but you don't, and he buries his face harder into your neck like a nuzzling.

His tongue laps over the bite wounds in your skin and your breath catches; you almost make a noise, but you're too aware of him on top of you to relax and let it out. You can't stop shaking, either, although you can hardly be blamed for that when you're having the blood stolen from your body.

The hand that isn't in Astarion's hair reaches up to pet down his side, settling eventually on his hip, and you hold him there, too, bringing him as close as you can.

He's hard.

You feel it through your shirt, bulge pressing against your belly where he lays over you like a lazy creature, relaxing all his weight onto you as he drinks. You're distantly aware of him removing his fangs and licking, kissing, mouthing over the bite to help stop the bleeding and help it heal, and once he's satisfied, he lays over you completely.

He feels denser than he did, and you suppose that's you, reinvigorating him from the inside out.

He breathes a shaky sigh with his head resting over your shoulder, his thirst sated.

There's a moment of hesitation before his mouth returns — this time, he peppers sweet kisses over your throat and up toward your ear like a lover.

"Do you want me?" he asks against your jaw.

Gods, yes, of course you do, but is this really a good idea? Whatever he has in mind involves putting his horny against yours, and you're already not thinking straight from the blood loss.

"Tell me," he breathes against your ear, and you shudder under him.

"Yes," you admit.

He grinds his hips slow and deliberate into you.

"How badly do you want me?" he whispers, absolutely devilish, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice.

"Bad enough to tolerate your smart ass," you whisper back, trying to be witty, but his hands have started roaming down your sides. Despite that, he laughs, and nips at your cheek in lieu of a kiss.

You can't do this here. You're barely feet away from the rest of your companions.

"Get off of me," you say, pushing at his hip and pulling at his hair.

He tenses over you like he thinks you're rejecting him, but you squeeze his hip under your hand.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

The two of you stumble like drunks up the river until you find a suitable clearing, collapsing into the dirt together.

"May I —?"

"Kiss me, yeah," you groan, as he puts you on your back and tangles your legs together.

His mouth tastes like blood, but you can't bring yourself to care. He kisses you with desperation you've neither seen nor felt before, whimpering into every clash of your lips as though it could be the last. His hands wander under your clothes and squeeze at your chest and your waist and your hips, and you laugh against his mouth.

"Slow down," you breathe, even as you hungrily watch him pull his shirt off and place it beside you.

"Must I?" he asks, only half joking.

"I don't want to rush this," you admit.

"In no hurry to regret me in the morning?" he teases, and leans in for another kiss, but you stop him with a gentle hand against his cool chest.

"I won't regret this in the morning," you say cautiously. "Will you?"

He frowns, like he hadn't considered it.

You sit up a bit and he backs off, kneeling with one knee between yours and the other near your hip.

"You do know I like you, don't you?" you ask, head cocked. "I enjoy your company. I wouldn't... This wouldn't be happening if I didn't like you as a person."

His frown gets deeper, like you've said the wrong thing, and now you frown, too.

"Is that not okay?" you ask.

He seems to snap out of it.

"I was only joking," he backpedals. "I've been more than one person's regret in my time," he 'jokes' again, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes.

He tries to kiss you again, continue things, but you push at his chest and keep him back.

"Hey," you say, as gently as you can manage. "Maybe we shouldn't go any further if we're not on the same page," you suggest, as much as you hate the thought of stopping and as much as something twists in your chest at the idea that he's truly not into you.

"No," he says quickly, "I — I'm sorry," he sighs. "It's been a while since I did this for fun," he scoffs.

"What does that mean?" you ask before you can stop yourself, and it's like the entire forest goes silent around you.

"I already told you I was Cazador's slave for the last two hundred years," he frowns. "Can't we leave it at that?"

The implications there are... Disturbing. Does he mean Cazador did things to him? Or made him do things? Or both? Neither?

"Hey," you say again. "Seriously. If you're not comfortable, I don't want to do anything."

He swallows.

He sits back on his heels.

"Okay," he says, so quiet you have to read his lips. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I'll go."

You frown again. Tonight has become a back-and-forth of frowning, and you wish it hadn't.

"Astarion," you say, and he looks you in the eye for the first time in minutes. "What do you want?"

He breaks eye contact again, glancing between the dirt and the trees and you, but not quite meeting your eyes again yet.

"I'd like to have a nice night with you," he slowly admits. He says it guiltily, like he expects to be in trouble for wanting to spend time together.

You nod.

"I want that, too," you assure him. "Do you want to do anything physical, or would you rather just... Relax, together?"

He thinks on it for a long moment.

"I'd like to kiss you again," he finally says. "I don't know if I'd... I'm not sure about going further," he says.

You smile at him.

You bring your hand up to cup his cheek, slow and light enough he can move away or push you off if he needs to. He doesn't — he lets you guide his head up to look you in the eye again.

"Okay," you say back. "I'm good with that."

He carefully leans in again, and you don't stop him this time. He kisses you differently, like the two of you have never kissed before — it's slow, and shallow, and chaste, but it makes your heart race all the same.

His fingers twiddle with a twig on the ground as you both pull back long moments later.

"Would it be silly of me to put my shirt back on?" he asks, and you laugh.

"Not at all."

You spend the next hour lying there together, chatting intermittently about the bugs you hear and the days to come and bits and pieces of your pasts that you feel like sharing. Once in a while, he sits up, leans over, and kisses you, and the two of you get lost in that for a few minutes, and then you're back to relaxing together and looking at the stars peeking through the tree canopy.

Eventually, you're forced to call it a night. You both rise and stretch, and, to your pleasant surprise, his hand catches you by the hip as you turn back toward camp.

He kisses you one more time, slow and heated and full of undeniable intent. You're almost panting when he finally gives you space again, heat thoroughly stirred in you.

"I just wanted to give you something to think about the next time I leave you wanting," he purrs, still hovering close, and then passes you to return to camp.

He must be in a good mood again, the tease.

Damn him.

[venturelovebot]

A/N: AAAAH This is the first piece of media I've written for Overwatch since like 2019! I wanted to so badly get back into writing but I just never felt like it! (´;ω;｀) I cannot believe this goober is what got me back into it. Bless their little rock eating heart.

Premise: You're a nerdy college student majoring in arts. Guess who you have a massive crush on. Guess whose popular and you're not. Guess who gets asked out anyway. ･*･:≡(　ε:) G/N!insecure!reader x Venture "Rock Eater" Overwatch ft. Illari the supportive friend!

Warnings: None! Just fluff.

You doodled another heart on a blank layer with your stylus. Beside that one you doodle a smaller one. You glance up quickly enough to get another look at their face and add small details to the main focus of your artwork. You move down a layer and add more shading. You zoom out. You're not happy with it.

"You push yourself too hard." Illari takes a seat next to you and sets down an unopened can of coffee. "You only see the mistakes. Everyone else will always see the bigger picture."

"That's what you keep telling me..." You softly sigh and open the can. Half of it nearly disappears in a gulp, so sleep would have to wait a little bit longer.

Illari looks over your work. "Oh! Is that S–" You cut her off with a harsh shush. Your head nods towards Sloane who sits not even twenty feet away from you laughing and talking with their friends.

"Not so loud..." You frown.

"Wow." Illari smiles softly and lowers her voice to a whisper. "That's like the third drawing you've done of them this week. Why not just ask them out already?"

"Stop!" You blush, hit the save button and close your laptop screen. You bury your face in your hands and feel the embarrassment begin to burn on your skin.

Even though no one has noticed, it feels like the whole world was staring at you. Tears softly gather behind your eyes but you blink them back before Illari takes notice.

"It's not like they know who I am. Plus they're cute... and look at me..." You sigh and feel a lump in your throat start to form.

Illari puts a hand on your shoulder. "Remember that you only see the mistakes. Everyone else will always see the bigger picture." She gets up quietly and grabs her book bag. "I'll text you later."

You watch between your fingers as she makes her way out of the building. After she leaves your line of sight you reopen your laptop and the familiar sting of failure settles over you again. You use your sleeve to dry your eyes before shaking your head gently to center yourself.

Right. Back to work.

The chatter of people around you dwindles as the time passes by and the sun lowers itself towards the horizon. You hit the save button for the twentieth time and decide to call it quits when the light makes it harder to see the finer details on your screen. You set your stylus aside and remove your drawing glove to let your dominant hand finally rest. The cramp pulses in your wrist and fingers as you massage them firmly. All was quiet for a brief moment.

"Hey! Is that me? That's so cool!" Oh, god... that voice. Their voice.

You had no time to react as a nervous heat strikes your body like lightning. You're frozen, blushing and panicking– and you just noticed you forgot to hide the heart doodle layer.

It cannot get much worse than this.

"I told you they were talented!" Illari smiles and sits across from you. "You should show them the other ones."

"I'll kill you." You mouth to her and her smile widens into a grin.

"Can you send them to me? I'll give you my number– wait a minute..." Sloane takes another glance at the screen. "Are those hearts?"

The feeling of helplessness overwhelms you as tears begin flowing from your eyes nonstop. You quickly cover your face in an attempt to save yourself and the small amount of dignity you have left. There was nothing you could say to defend yourself in this situation. This causes Illari to feel guilty and stand up to comfort you.

"Hey! It's okay! Your artwork is super good! I look really good! A lot better than I usually do, I think..." Sloane takes a seat next to you. "Wow, you even got my tattoos right. That's crazy! In a good way, I mean..."

You try your hardest to dry your eyes with your dampened sleeves. "You really think so?" You're hardly able to hide the choking in your throat.

"Actually... I think you made me look too good." They joke and you can't help but laugh a little.

"What are you talking about? You always look good regardless of what you do..." You glance over at them. Sloane's face lights up with a soft red glow from your compliment.

Illari takes a few steps back unnoticed, her plan beginning to unravel.

"Aww! Well, thanks!" There's a tone in their voice you haven't heard before. "You're not so bad looking yourself, ya know." They smile.

"Oh! That's not true... I could definitely look a lot better I think–" You look away with a grin on your face. "My hair is a mess... and–"

"No! I'm being honest! Your hair looks nice...! And you smell really nice! And you seem really nice!" You could tell they were embarrassed at this point. "Uh– anyway– You're definitely cute. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

A moment of silence passes as you look back at them. Both of you are grinning at each other uncontrollably like a couple of nerds. The tension in the air begins to fade.

"Wow..." You pause for a moment. "Thank you. Really."

"No problem! Say, can I ask you for a favor?" Sloane asks.

"S-sure!"

"I'm thinking about getting another tattoo for my birthday. Could you design it for me?" Sloane lifts up their tank top to point at their chest. "I was thinking about getting something cool like the eye of Horus! Or maybe something like a flaming skull. Or a frog. I haven't decided yet–"

Your face turns bright red as you eye their bare skin. It was everything you daydreamed about– except this time it was all real. You wanted more time to admire everything but they lower their shirt back down... a soft disappointment looms over you, but you're not about to squander your chance.

"I'd love to!" You answer confidently for the first time in a very long time.

"Nice! So it's a date then? Does this Friday work?" Sloane writes down their phone number for you.

"That sounds... nice." You reply happily.

"Cool, I'll see you around then." Sloane stands up and nearly walks off before turning to you one more time. "I almost forgot. What's your name? Illari didn't tell me."

"Y/N."

"Y/N..." They echo. "I like that name. See you Friday!"

You watch as they leave, not taking your eyes off of them for a second until they're completely out of your sight.

"You're welcome." Illari smiles and heads out afterwards.

You spend an extra couple of minutes gathering your things before giggling and kicking your feet like a little kid. You just got a date with one of the most popular people on campus! And this is what it feels like... a rollercoaster of butterflies in your stomach.

You head back towards home as the moon brightly shines in the starry sky above, wondering about this coming Friday... what you would wear... you needed to be prepared.

[utterlyazriel]

— writings —

how long have i searched for you? | an eternity, my love

Azriel finds his mate at the most inopportune time — and convinces himself that keeping his distance is the right thing to do.

love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight)

Something is wrong with Azriel. He isn’t there when you wake and when you do find him… there’s this terribly cruel look in his eyes.

the green emotion

Azriel and you are just friends. Only friends. So, really, when he sees you on another Male’s doorstep, it’s not his place to be jealous in the slightest.

whom the shadows sing for —(and the thief’s echoing hymn)

Someone in the Illryians Mountains has been making a name for themselves— a bastard like Azriel and his brothers, ruffling the feathers of a war camp's Lord. But they seem to have no loyalty to the fighting legion— or much to anyone for that matter.

mulan inspired au. ongoing wip. chapter 5/?

let me keep you company

You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

[ynscrazylife]

Can i request a greys anat. fic? Where addison is newley devorced from derek and is falling head over heals for intern reader and gets v teased for it by mark, derek and callie? (I am only on s3 of greys anatomy and i love it sm!)

Addison Getting Teased for Liking an Intern | Blurb

It definitely took some time after the divorce for the awkwardness around Addison, Derek, and Mark to go away and it was difficult for all three of time. After some long and hard conversations, Addison and Derek came to the mutual agreement that their divorce was for the best and began to sort things out between themselves and with Mark (both individually and together).

Their past was still a bit of a touchy subject but they were getting there, which is why it came as a surprise when Mark noticed Addison and Callie standing together and made a comment. “Wow, I haven’t seen Addison look at someone like that since she met Derek in med school,” he joked.

Derek, who had been standing with Mark, and Callie both followed Addison’s line of sight, only to see the new intern who the hospital had been gossiping about talking to Meredith by the stairs.

“Oooooh,” Callie teased, nudging her friend playfully with her elbow as Addison’s face immediately went the same shade as her hair.

She straightened her posture and made a show of rolling her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, I wasn’t giving her any type of look,” she insisted.

“You were practically drooling,” Derek chimed in, teasing good-naturally with a smug look on his face. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic now.

Addison scoffed, though it wasn’t very convincing. “It’s nothing! She’s—she’s . . .” There were no words for her to say to escape from this.

“You’re head over heels, oh my god!” Callie exclaimed excitedly, even clapping her hands.

Addison’s face got redder by the moment. Mark opened his mouth to add something snarky in, when he stopped at the sight of you, the intern, walking over. “Doctor Montgomery!” You said cheerfully, wearing a bright and contagious smile.

Mark and Derek had to stifle snickers at how quickly Addison turned around. “Y-yes?” She said, straightening her coat.

“Would you mind if I discuss a patient with you? I just had some questions about the chart,” you said, holding the clipboard out to her.

Not trusting herself to speak, Addison only nodded with a small “mhm!”.

You pinched your eyebrows. “Yes, you do mind?” You asked, a little dejected.

Addison’s eyes went wide but Callie quickly swooped in to save the day. “She doesn’t mind! She has all the time in the world,” the resident said, practically pushing Addison towards you. You looked confused, but went with it.

As Addison walked away with you, she glanced over her shoulder to see the three doctors wearing shit-eating grins. Derek gave her a thumbs up, Mark was making a kissy face, and Callie was mouthing at her telling her to make a move. She gave them one fierce glare that only she could before turning back to you and refocusing her attention.

[floralpascal]

Taking Care of You

Summary: You've been stressed out and working like crazy lately. John finally has enough and devises a plan to take care of you and make you forget all about your work.

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.9k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, minors do not interact)

Warnings: stressed reader, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), orgasm denial, praise

A/N: This one goes out to all my stressed and busy babes out there! This is 100% self indulgent since I've been working day and night recently. We all need us some Price to take that stress away

You knew that you had been distant for a while. Work had been piling up on you, responsibilities pressing in from all sides. It seemed like all you did was work, work, work these days. 

Your husband, John Price, was as supportive as he always was. He, of all people, understood that sometimes you just had to put your head down and get work done. When he was home with you, he always made sure that you ate and stayed hydrated. He limited your caffeine intake. He made sure you took breaks. In all, he was the most supportive, understanding man on the planet. 

…which was why his reaction now was so surprising. 

You saw him approach the makeshift office that you had set up at your kitchen table from over your laptop screen. In a soft, even voice he ordered, “Close the computer, love.”

Continuing to type, you spared him a questioning glance as you shook your head. “I just took a break like… an hour ago.”

“Three,” he corrected. “It’s almost eleven at night.”

You whipped your head up to look at the clock that hung on the wall behind him. Sure enough, he was right. Dread spread through you, your brain already kicking into crisis mode. “Shit. God, I’ve got to get this done.”

“It’ll be there tomorrow,” he countered. “You’ve been workin’ like mad all weekend long. I’m not gonna let you run yourself into the ground. So. Shut. The. Laptop.”

He stressed each word, and suddenly you felt what it must’ve been like to have John as a Captain, calm but commanding. Your eyes met his, your mouth open to fight him on the matter, but you found him ready for it, a testing eyebrow raised. It was rare that he would ever tell you what to do, but it always came when he was worried about you and trying to take care of you. Any time you had gotten a significant injury, he had made sure that you stuck to every word of the doctor’s orders. 

You huffed and leaned back, already sensing defeat. Instead, you tried to plead with him, “John, I won’t be able to sleep unless I get this done. I’ll just keep thinking about it.”

He put one hand on the table, leaned toward you, and pushed the laptop closed with the other hand. With his face barely a breath from yours and his eyes darkening, he rumbled, “I can fix that.”

Your body reacted to his sultry insinuation immediately, your heart rate jumping in an instant. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “And how’s that?”

“I’ll make it so that you can barely even think anymore. I’ll wear you out so much you’ll fall asleep without even a thought about this,” he said, tapping the closed lid of your laptop. 

At times like this, you hated how easy it was for him to get you riled up. He knew exactly how to play you, exactly how to make his gravelly voice even more enticing, exactly what to say to get you squirming in your seat for him like you were now. 

You pressed your lips together, thinking for a moment. You couldn’t pretend that you didn’t want this. You were so tired of all the work and John knew exactly how to play you. But if he was going to have some fun, then so were you. With a provocative flit to your voice, you challenged, “Then prove it, Captain.”

For a moment, all he did was let a sultry smile pull at his lips. Then he was on you, his hands guiding you up from your chair and his lips finding yours. It was all fire and passion, but yet not too rushed. No, John never rushed this early. He loved to work you up slowly and leave you begging for him to just touch you already. He followed that playbook now, walking you backwards to press you up against the wall, his hand guarding your head from hitting it. 

As he tilted your head to give his lips access to your neck, he rasped against your burning skin, “Never too stressed to tease me, are you?”

Your breath hitched as he found the sensitive part of your neck, your hands clawing at his back and tangling in his short hair. After a moment, he moved back up to kiss you, his tongue dancing with yours for a long while. 

Eventually, his hands on your hips guided you to walk with him towards your shared bedroom. You took turns pulling at the other’s clothes, leaving a trail haphazardly in your wake. By the time you both passed through the doorway, John was only in his boxers and you in your plain black bra and panties. As he laid you back onto the bed, he eyed you as hungrily as he did when you wore lingerie for him. 

“D’ya know how fuckin’ sexy you are, love?” His hands pressed against your stomach before roaming up, up, up as slowly as possible. Your eyes fluttered shut as he ghosted his hands over your bra, arching shamelessly into his touch. Still drinking the sight of you in, he rasped, “Gotta take care of you. Gotta make sure I get rid of all that stress, all those worries.”

“John…” you whined, already needy and falling for his plan. One side of his mustache raised in a smile, clearly understanding that he already had you right how he wanted you. “Just touch me, please.”

John chuckled, giving your breasts a quick squeeze before placing a kiss just over your heart. “I am touchin’ you, baby.”

“Fuck, John, you know what I mean.”

He pressed the faintest of kisses up your chest and to your neck. Against the skin of your neck, he teased, “Maybe I don’t. Tell me. Use your words, love.”

Despite his insistence, he gave you no time to answer. Instead, his lips found the sensitive column of your neck, the touch no longer feather-light like it had been before. Now, he kissed and nipped with a passion that had you gasping beneath him. 

“Hhm? I didn’t catch that. Gotta speak up,” he mumbled next to your ear, the heavy timber of it sending shivers down your spine. But you could feel the curve of his lips against your soft skin, his beard prickling you as he did. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you grumbled halfheartedly. Even now, though, you couldn’t resist him. Giving in, you begged, “God, just fuck me, John.”

He made a sound of appreciation, deep and reverberating, the kind you could feel in your own chest. Leaning up over you, his icy blue eyes came to meet yours. “Now, was that really that hard?”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing your own smile as you grabbed his neck and leaned up to give him a bruising kiss. Returning the heat immediately, he dropped the act for a moment. Lips moving in tandem with yours, urgency lacing every movement, you felt him get lost in it. Surely enough, as he adjusted over top of you, you felt his hard-on graze your lower stomach. You chased him, hooking a leg over his hip to roll your hips against him. He groaned into your mouth, eyes squeezed shut. 

“So impatient today,” John chided. He pulled away and sat up, his hands coming to unhook and discard your bra on the floor. As he went to do the same with your underwear, you breathed a sigh of relief thinking that the torture of his teasing was finally over. 

Settling between your thighs, a man in heaven, he brought his mouth close to where you needed him. However, at the last second, his breath dusting your sensitive skin, he turned and brought his lips to the inside of your thigh instead. He still couldn’t hide his smile when you groaned in frustration. 

You were in for a hell of a ride. When he got in a teasing mood like this, there was no stopping him. 

Beard and mustache picking deliciously against you, he kissed up one thigh. Then, when he almost reached your center again, your breath hitching, he switched to the other thigh. There were some days when he did this that it felt like heaven — days when you were already losing yourself to the feel of him before he even got going. While you tried to conjure up that more present, more patient version of yourself, it didn’t seem possible now. You needed him so badly it ached. 

When your fingers found their way into his hair and gave him a light tug in the direction you needed him, he finally let you have your way. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, a small chuckle shaking the broad plane of his back. As he lowered his head, his hooded eyes meeting yours, he purred, “If tha’s really what you want, love. Have it your way.”

With that, he finally brought his tongue to you. Ever so slowly, he licked into you, drawing a gasp from your chest. Sliding his hands up from your hips to hold the sides of your stomach, his tongue made a twin journey up to your clit. He flicked his tongue a few times, slowly testing you.

Though it was all too slow for your liking, he steadily built up the pace. The scrape of his beard. The flick of his tongue. The reverb of his moan as you tugged on his strands. It was a delicious cycle, speeding up each time through. 

You let your head tip back into the pillow as you finally felt that tension in your stomach — a coil winding tighter and tighter. Your breath was ragged now, your legs already bracing around John’s head. 

“Yes,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut. “Just like that. I’m so- I’m so clo-”

Right as you were about to crest that hill, John pulled away all at once. Your orgasm dissipated like a wave against the beach — there one moment and gone the next. 

You whipped your head up to look at him, disbelief and righteous fury in your eyes. You were met only with a hungry, conniving smirk from the infuriatingly sexy man between your thighs. In this moment, even with his beard and the signs of age on his face, he didn’t seem a day older than the first time you had seen this smirk. The John Price that smirked in triumph at you now was the same as the John Price who had done it for the first time nearly a decade earlier. Had you not just had euphoria ripped away from you, you probably would’ve been more sentimental about this revelation. 

“Jonathan Price, I swear to god-”

You were cut off by another one of his chuckles. He licked his lips slowly, making sure you watched as he tasted you. “Still too stressed, love. Don’t think you’re ready yet.”

“You teasing asshole,” you huffed, but the edge was lost to it. 

It only made him smirk even more. “Fine,” he acquiesced, leaning back down. “Let’s try this again.”

At the same time that his mouth found your clit again, one of his hands traveled down to slip a finger into your dripping entrance. A small moan escaped you at the new sensation. As he started to build you back up again, his mouth and finger moving in tandem, you couldn’t help but forget his past transgressions. All that mattered now was the buildup leading to the big drop, the wonder that John could work between your thighs. 

Suddenly, he slipped a second finger into you, drawing a surprised whine from your lips. “Ohh… oh, fuck…”

He groaned in approval, the vibrations of his mouth against you only upping the unbearable pleasure. 

You were there again, so close to the edge that you could practically see it. Your body tensed in anticipation of the drop like a rollercoaster. It was just-

John pulled away again, shattering the buildup to your orgasm for the second time.

You let out a pained hybrid of a groan and a whine. Now, rather than annoyance coursing its way through you, all you had was desperation. “Fuck! John, please!”

“Hmmm, there we go,” he mused. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.”

“Please let me come, baby,” you pleaded. “I need it so bad.”

Pushing himself up, your heart sunk at the thought that he might keep teasing you and leave you hanging. Though he was never, ever one to leave you wanting, you were too far out of it to think straight anymore. All you knew was that you needed him and he was holding that just out of reach. 

Instead, he climbed up to lean over you. With a gentle hand, he cradled your jaw, making you look at him. Your slick glistened on his chin and beard. His pupils were blown wide, the icy blue of them nearly lost to it. With how much self control he had, his eyes and the tent in his boxers were the only indications that he was as affected by this as you were. 

“D’ya think you’re ready for me, beautiful? Think you can take me?”

You nodded immediately, still breathless. “Need you so bad, baby. Please. I can take it.”

He searched your eyes for a moment before nodding. “That’s my girl.”

Finally, he stripped off his boxers, revealing his red, leaking cock. You couldn’t stop the small whine you made at the sight, your need for him overriding any coherent thought.

John pushed into you in one swift stroke, drawing your nails to scrape across his back. The stretch was delicious, tearing you apart and soothing the insatiable ache in your core at the same time.

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect for me,” he praised. If the feeling of him seated inside you wasn’t already enough to set you ablaze, his praise was. It always was. 

His arms came to rest by either side of your head as he leaned down and stole a heated kiss from your lips. Then, he drew himself slowly out of you before sharply driving back into you again. Your body shook with the force of it, forcing you to break from his lips as you let out the most lewd moan of the night. 

But, of course, that was just the beginning. John continued like that, fucking you harder with every quick snap of his hips until the only sound in your bedroom was the slap of skin on skin and both of your grunts and moans of pleasure.

“This what you needed, baby?” John asked, voice gravelly and breathy. “You needed to get fucked this good?”

Your voice caught in your throat, a strangled sound coming out in place of an affirmation.

He sped up his pace, his cock hitting so deep within you that you had to squeeze your eyes shut. He groaned, “My good girl. Always workin’ so bloody hard. You deserve this — deserve to just let me take care of you.”

Your pussy clenched around him at his praise, drawing groans from you both. You clawed at his back, searching for some sort of tether in the tidal wave of pleasure you were trapped in now. For the third time tonight, you could see the salvation of your orgasm on the horizon. Having been denied it so many times, its immensity and force was almost alarming. 

Though you were too lost in John to think clearly, you were able to gasp out one plea. “Don’t stop! Baby, don’t- don’t stop!”

Rhythm growing sloppy, John assured, “Not gonna stop this time. Been so fuckin’ good for me. Come for me, love.”

That’s all it took to have you falling apart on his cock, the tension in your stomach snapping in an overwhelming flood of euphoria. Breath catching in your chest as you rode out the high, John continued to fuck you through it, murmuring deep praises all the while. 

Just as you were coming back down to earth, your body finally feeling like it was yours again, John was nearing his high. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned, head lowered by your ear. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he was burying himself to the hilt in you, his warm cum coating your walls. You gasped at the feeling as he ground his hips into yours a little.

Still propped on his arms, he sagged down over you, his breath ragged like yours. You dragged a hand up from his shoulder blade and into his hair, letting your fingers card through the soft strands as John came back to you and pulled out. Then, he lifted up enough to meet your gaze again. He took you in for a moment before leaning down and giving you one last heated kiss. 

The two of you clearly spent, he leaned his forehead against yours after he broke away. He brought a large, calloused hand to brush against your cheek. 

“You’re so bloody gorgeous,” he mused. “I love you.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “I love you.”

“Feelin’ better?”

“So much better,” you answered. The stress and pressure you had felt for days was gone now, replaced only with the feeling of John. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt relaxed. 

“I told you I could fix it,” he said triumphantly, wiggling an eyebrow at you.

After taking a moment to clean you both up, John crawled back into bed and shifted to spoon you from behind. With his strong arm over your stomach and your legs intertwined, you let him envelop you. As sleep slowly pulled you under, the only thought on your mind was him.

[swiftsdelucaa]

Would you please do a Mark Sloan x Grey!reader who is Meredith’s twin sister? When he first goes to Grey Sloan he is determined to get with her.

❛ 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x Grey!sis!reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: Hoping you'll like it anon!

You had just left the locker room to finally go home, you were just waiting for Meredith. As you scrolled through the messages on your phone you sensed someone else's presence, and as soon as you looked up you found yourself in front of Mark Sloan. Well, that wasn't new, he was always wherever you were, he never left you alone for a moment. He flirted with you whenever he could, almost embarrassed you, but you got used to it by now.

"Hey, can I bring you home?" he approached with his usual smirk on his face.

"No thanks, I'm waiting for Mer" you went back to checking your messages.

"And if I bring in a restaurant?" when he wants he gets so stubborn.

"I'm not really hungry"

"Then... a little walk?" you sighed smiling. In fact, if he would have continued like this you would have given in.

But why not, I mean he's hot, and je's also an excellent company...

"Hey, come on" Meredith came out of the locker room. Just in time.

"Bye doctor Sloan" you greeted him taking Meredith by the arm to drag her away from there before she wasted any more time with Cristina.

"Finally" you sighed rolling your eyes.

"How's it going with your...?"

"Shut up, he's my nothing" you shut her up as you walked towards the car. She looked so amused selling you like that.

"You know, he used to flirt with me too" Meredith said as you got into the car.

"Really? And...?"

"Well, I think I'd have accepted if Derek hadn't punched him straight in the face before he even finished to talking with me" she laughed at the memory. You laughed with her.

"When did all this happen?" you asked curiously.

"It was before you came here, you should have been there"

"Oh yes. But maybe it's been better like this, cause now you and Derek are good together" you said thinking about it.

"Yeah, maybe... so you can have him all for you"

"Shut up!" oh you know she'll annoy you for a long time.

Before she could start to say any more you turned on the radio hoping to find a decent song, then stared out the window for a while.

"Hey" you got Meredith's attention.

"What?"

"Why did Derek punch him?" you asked confused since you were aware that those two were best friends.

"Well... he slept with his wife, Addison..."

"Wait, what?? Why didn't I know it?!"

"It's happened a long time ago, nobody talks about it anymore" your sister said. You would never have imagined this.

Well, you knew that making mistakes was human, things had now been resolved, but he had always remained the same that he knew what he wanted.

Without even realizing it, you had already arrived home, you got out of the car and as soon as you entered, you both threw yourself on the sofa, exhausted.

The next morning you arrived at the hospital together, and as soon as you had got ready and divided, punctually like every morning, you were greeted by Mark who brought you a coffee.

"Good morning Y/n"

"Good morning" you just took the coffee and drank it right away. It was all you needed.

"You know, you're prettier with loose hair" the fact that he noticed it caused you a little smile, usually you always kept them tied in a ponytail, you hated them.

"Thank you" he said goodbye one last time before leaving to go to a patient.

"Doctor Sloan!" he spun around as soon as he heard your voice calling him.

"Yeah?" he came back to you.

"I, ok, well, you... you're a very good perdon..." his attention increased. "And you're also really handsome, but... I don't know if-"

"No no no, don't finish that phrase, please" you stopped to listen to him, you had no other choice. "You can't say that you don't know if it con work if we didn't even tried. You're beautiful, you're smart, and I really like you, I exactly know what I want, and I won't stop. So if you'll say yes I'll do everything to make you happy and make it work" those words made you feel a weird sensation... he had managed to hit you. No one had ever told you these things. Now you didn't even know what to answer.

"Then Y/n... can I bring you out this time, please?" you laughed at the way he asked you.

"I'd love to" you smiled at him as your gazes met for a moment, until his pager rang.

"See you later baby"

"I can't wait" you watched him walk away.

A pleasant date with a man completely crazy about you awaited you tonight.

[andwiththatileave]

I swear I know more about the Sparrows through their social media page than the actual show

[odessastone]

The Name of God on Their Lips

The past didn’t want to stay buried. Sloan had convinced themselves of that.

Wrote a little horror fic for Venture. Read it HERE