#i just wanted to mention that though its been driving me insane

[vampkomori]

Ena the Order is the concept of conforming to Fate, and Elio is an Emanator of Order

welcome to my pre-2,2 theory, i got carried away.

for those yet unaware, theres been a theory flying around that the Goddess of Sigonia, Gaiathra Triclops, is a folkloric interpretation of Ena the Order, on account of the iris of Ena's eye having the same colors as Aventurine's. we can go much further with this though.

(Aventurine's pupils are diamond-shaped, but little Kakavasha has round pupils. its likely that diamond-shaped pupils are a result of becoming a Stoneheart, because Topaz also has diamond-shaped pupils, and Aventurine used to not have them. but i digress)

Anyway, Gaiathra=Ena. Gaiathra is described as a left palm with 3 eyes, arguably Ena also has 3 eyes- two closed ones on their face, and one massive, open eye floating around them.

Gaiathra "reigns over all matters related to fertility, travels, and trickery." (Sigonia, Planar Ornament Relic Set) and is said to have been the one to bestow Aventurine with his luck.

but first: What is Order? Based on the words alone, youd think Order would have more in common with Equilibrium, but evidently that wasnt the case. Considering it was assimilated into the Harmony, it must have overlaps with that though, since the broader path is the one that absorbs the narrower one if their concepts are too similar. So, if Harmony is unity and peace, the idea of everyone joining a happy paradise, then how did the Harmony manage to absorb Order?

"I am filled with curiosity about how THEY swallowed up Order. The hymns of Xipe continue to spread and grow, occasionally overseen by ideology. In contrast, Ena's harmonic songs seems to align within a three-dimensional framework, akin to an emperor maintaining hierarchical order among all creatures. While there may be some overlap between THEIR Paths, the ancient Order is enormous in size, and swallowing THEM would prove far from effortless... Among the Aeons, there exist countless enigmas that surpass my own speculations." - Dev Log for Xipe in Simulated Universe, Herta's comment

Herta doesnt know either, and by all means a freshly ascended Aeon should not have an easy time absorbing someone as ancient as Ena- that is, unless Ena intended for it to happen.

This is a lot of establishing facts before i get to the meat of things. We still dont technically know what Order even is, so lets try figure it out!

"The planets governed by Ena adhere staunchly to established rules, yet I must acknowledge that the various calamities in the cosmos were all hindered by Ena's guardianship, leading to extremely efficient development of civilization among diverse planets. Interestingly, however, civilizations all eventually hit rock bottom because of Order. The ancient planets that once fervently worshiped Order would shine briefly before their total collapse... Perhaps this is the "Path" of these planets." - Dev Log for Ena in Simulated Universe, Herta's comment

So: Order is the concept of adhering to a predetermined outcome- their "path". Ena observes humanity "gazing into a crystal orb containing the cosmos" and ensures that they all follow their predetermined path of Fate. None may go astray, no outside influence may interfere, no matter what fate awaits them, they must follow their set path.

"THEIR voice is composed of syllables sequencing the rise and fall of civilizations in accordance with the Aeon's path."

Ena has the ability to foresee the future, as they dont just sequence the rise, but also the fall of civilizations. They are inherently impartial, just, things are destined to happen and so they see to it that they happen. Order is the concept of conforming to Fate, if a planet is destined to be destroyed by a calamity, then Ena guides it to that outcome.

However, Aeons, despite being concepts, arent just concepts, they have some semblance of sentience, self-awareness. they have goals, they make deals, though humans are unable to comprehend them.

So, Ena conforms to fate, but what is the purpose of doing so? Ena can see the future, but we know Kafka. there isnt just ONE future, theres a lot of futures, and endless paths. So its logical to assume that Ena, by being able to see the fates of civilizations, can actually see the endless amount of paths towards all possible fates, and personally chooses which path is specifically followed. and for the sake of the theory, lets assume Ena is benevolent and guides humanity towards the most fortunate fate (though even the most "fortunate" of fates can still end in destruction)

Before Ena was assimilated into the Harmony, they made a deal with Qlipoth the Preservation: Qlipoth will bring an end to Tayzzyronth the Propagation (as they are interfering with the predetermined Fates of planets) and in turn Ena will help Qlipoth against Oroboros the Voracity somehow (likely foreseeing its Fate and interfering with it). Qlipoth held up their end of the bargain, but Ena was assimilated before they were able uphold their part, which is interesting

We know theres something fishy about the Orders assmiliation into Harmony- it doesnt make sense, especially knowing that Ena foresees the future, and is likely aware of their own fate.

Heres where we remember that Gaiathra is also a goddess of trickery. Theres two possibilities:

Ena foresaw their own "demise" and made a deal with Qlipoth knowing they wouldnt be able to follow through on their part of the promise

Ena, able to see multiple paths for the future, foresaw that being assimilated into Xipe would lead them towards the most fortunate one, so they let themselves be absorbed on purpose, as the Harmony would not have been able to absorb the Order otherwise. The deal was just a bonus.

Either way, Ena would have known of the future, and making a deal shortly before the assimiliation of their path is clearly a scheme- they get something great out of it, and dont have to follow up on it.

Heres where we bring up Elio (and the Stellaron Hunters). We actually still dont know what path they follow, and isnt that so interesting? What path could possibly include following a "script" to ensure a certain future? hmmm

sounds like Order to me!

Elio possesses the ability to foresee future possibilities and the paths that lead towards them. Essentially, the exact ability that Ena is shown to possess. All the futures look pretty bleak though, except for one, which hes trying to achieve by making sure to follow that exact path: his "script". the very definition of Order.

Note also that despite Enas assimiliation, their faction can still exist. After all, Idrila the Beauty is also gone, but the Knights of Beauty still roam around. The path of a deceased or assimiliated Aeon can still be upheld even if the Aeon no longer exists.

Anyway, Elio is basically upholding Ena's legacy by ensuring that we adhere to fate, and guides us towards the most fortunate one. His ability is far too powerful though, so its safe to assume hes an Emanator, since theyre considered to be "as good as emissaries of the Aeons' wills"

*As a bonus, Gaiathra also reigns over "all matters related to 'travels'". if you stretch the definition a little, "travels" could refer to the idea of embarking on paths towards fate. you "travel" on a path, after all.

Theres also this interesting little tidbit here:

"THEY are always so symmetrical and so equal. If we were to rank those most sublime beings, only the Voracity and the Permanence can stand toe-to-toe with the Equilibrium's antiquity... Oh, and also the Order. After Ena disappeared, the Equilibrium's duties have only grown greater. Then, how would HooH perceive Nanook?"- Dev Log for HooH in Simulated Universe, Herta's comment

The fact that Nanook is brought up is pretty funny as theyre the youngest Aeon, and since only the most ancient ones would be able to stand "toe-to-toe" with HooH, youd think as the youngest, Nanook wouldnt stand a chance against them. but they were brought up regardless, in tandem with Ena no less

Coincidentally, Nanook is also the Aeon that Elio wants the Trailblazer to defeat too. Curious! You could say that it is the Will of the Order to see the fall of the Destruction? anyway,

HooH's duties "have grown only greater" since Ena disappeared, meaning that they must have overlapped in some way before, but coexisted. (similarly to how the Remembrance and Preservation coexist, possibly) We dont know much of anything about Equilibrium yet though, so lets put that aside.

Lets talk about luck.

Luck is just chance. The results of "chance" are left up to "fate". We know that not all choices or events matter in the grand scheme of things. Theres endless possible paths, so rolling a 1 or a 6 doesnt matter because it will still lead you onto the same destiny. Luck is irrelevant to fate, it does not influence it. Luck only influences how you arrive at it.

So how do you reconcile that with Order? if Order is staunchly adhering to fate, observing humanity to ensure they all end up on the "right" path, then how does chance, luck, happenstance, fit into all this?

Luck is the ultimate Order, because there is only ONE path that luck can take: the most fortunate one. It does not influence your fate however, luck only influences which one of the countless paths towards your fate you end up on. and always being lucky narrows your potential paths down to just one.

This is also why Nihility was the natural conclusion for Aventurine. If you realize that no matter what you do, you cannot change the outcome of your choices, then you realize its futile and decide to succumb to it. youll always win, so whats the point? Thats Nihility: succumbing to Fate, the inevitability of everything, realizing your choices dont matter. When youre lucky and everything you do leads to the same result then you start to think that maybe nothing matters.

Back on track though. Fate, despite being predetermined, is not singular. as in, theres predetermined fates (plural) waiting for you at the end of your path. theres multiple endings. Luck means you have less paths to end up on but luck does not influence the end goal.

In a way, what Elio is trying to do is very similar to what Aventurines "luck" does: he wants to end up on a very specific path that leads him to a very specific fate, and luck leads you onto one single path, theoretically making it easier to achieve certain fates. Its an interesting parallel.

"Blessing" someone with luck seems a bit too hands-on for someone like Ena, so while we might never know why Aventurine was blessed specifically, we can kind of see it as a sort of trial-run. Ena does not interfere, does not "defy" fate, but bestowing luck onto someone to narrow down their futures is a bit like interference- except its not, only on a technicality. theyre still adhering to the set paths that exist, after all, im not changing fate, what are you talking about? look, hes still on one of your predetermined paths. the fact that he cant go onto other paths is irrelevant if he still ends up at one of the predetermined endings.

As a note though, Ena is not Fate itself. Ena adheres to fate and ensures that humanity follows it. Nihility is basically succumbing to fate and thinking its inevitable and change is futile, and I guess you could see Harmony as the concept of circumventing fate- instead of arriving at one of your predetermined endings, how about you get assimilated into our harmonious hivemind and experience eternal bliss? (lets wait on that 2.2 harmony lore-drop before saying anything about that though)

got off track a little. basically, Ena's Order is the concept of conforming/adhering to Fate. potentially, in their era, Fate was a singular end, because they were the one to guide humanity onto certain paths and towards certain ends (which is why civilizations thrived but ultimately still collapsed). Enas assimiliation was on purpose, although we can only speculate on the reason. so i will. heres my speculation:

Ena is not Fate itself, but a Guide. seeing the countless possible paths and possible fates for humanity, they foresaw the same thing that Elio foresees- a terrible End at the hands of the Destruction that may affect humans and Aeons alike. potentially, Enas Will mightve been to avoid that (but remaining within the confines of fate, not defying it) so they set in motion the steps needed to embark on said path, which necessitated their assimilation into Harmony. if Enas reign caused the Fates of humans to be "set in stone", then Enas disappearance could be seen as humans regaining the ability to choose their own paths, their own fate. Essentially, Enas disappearance wouldve been necessary in order to even create the possibility of an "alternate ending" and leaving the choice up to humanity.

anyway thats the conclusion thanks for coming, godspeed if you read the whole thing. im bad at keeping things short and concise. and i started rambling near the end

as a disclaimer: these are vague thoughts and i change my view on things often. if we get new info in the future that says this was all nonsense then thats that. im not trying to convince anyone. just offering a perspective for funsies

#honkai star rail #ena the order #gaiathra triclops #when the new simverse update comes out with a new harmony path and we get lore about Ena we popping the BIGGEST bottles #cough. well anyway. Order am i right. #i didnt talk about Enas imagery but its pretty insane what with the puppet strings and and giant eye and #well. to offer another perspective: genshin is very fond of describing fate as a panopticon. 'casting an examining eye on humanity' #(especially with the new lore about the crimson moon- the eye of fate and judgement) #and literally calling Fate the strings that puppeteer humanity. haha. ha. HA. #not necessarily saying hsr and gi are connected. but rather that hoyo has a definitive view of fate and often uses the same ideas #over and over again. so. rather than saying theyre connected its more like. the imagery is so similar #that you could say the heavenly principles are how theyre representing their idea of fate in genshin. and ena is hsr's idea #i just wanted to mention that though its been driving me insane #um. ena sweep. live love laugh #vampy.txt

[hotchscvm]

leaked nudes — two

pt. 1

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you just wanted penelope’s feedback on your nudes. its hard for her to do so when you send them to your boss instead.

word count: 2k (another short one)

warnings: the word panties, stealing of shirts, reader checking out aaron’s ass, a mention of leonado dicaprio, mentions of suicidal thoughts

The next few days for him is torture.

Every time he looks at you, or even in your general vicinity, he’s reminded of the images he can never forget. Not that he’s been able to stop thinking about them, in the shower, in his bed, in his office, in the field—it was consuming him and he didn’t mind.

Aaron had resorted to wearing his darker suits, hoping they’d conceal his raging boner (an instance that only happened around you or when he thinks of you or when anyone even speaks your name). Unfortunately for exhausted cock, you noticed the change and complimented him on it, leaving him to lock himself in his hotel room and rub out a quick one.

After another unsuccessful day, Aaron sends the team back to the hotel, following them a few minutes afterward. He groans inwardly as he sees you coming out of the bathroom, knowing well enough he’d have to drive you to the hotel as the team had taken two of the SUVs back. He didn’t think he could stand another second alone with you without wanting to pin you against the wall and fuck you until the whole city knew his name.

You smiled at him as he opened the door for you, and he thinks he may develop heart palpitations with the number of times you make his heart stop—Aaron is certain one of these days his heart won’t continue and you may literally kill him with your smile.

Despite his cock stirring in his pants, the drive back to the hotel was lovely, though he can confidently say any time with you is divine. Though, he does rear-end the car in front of them when you unbutton your top, showing a white tank top under. Even worse when the seat belt tightens around you when he steps on the brake hard, causing it to accentuate your breasts, stuffed between them. He thinks he’s finally gone insane, being jealous over a seatbelt.

He opens the door for you once again, getting out of the car and the doors to the hotel. Aaron wonders if you can hear his heart beating wildly out of his chest when you link your arm through his, leaning slightly against him as you walk to the elevators.

Once you get to your room, you sigh loudly, taking off your tank top and throwing it on the unmade bed. You were feeling the effects of being unable to solve the case and being in Kansas City was like being stuck in an elevator running out of air.

After taking a shower, you realize your go bag was running out of clothes as you’ve been here for nearly a week. You were too tired to do laundry in the hotel’s laundry room and you knew Spencer was sleeping by now so you quickly wrapped a towel around your body and walked next door to Aaron’s room.

Knocking, you secured the towel around you, chuckling at the thought of flashing your boss. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you in just the towel, nearly slamming the door close at the thought.

Smiling sheepishly at him, you said. “Hey, can I borrow another shirt? I don’t really want to wear another dirty one and I haven’t done laundry yet.”

It takes him a few seconds to answer, his eyes never leaving your face. Aaron nods, opening his door further. “Um, yeah, of course. Let me just see what I have.”

You step a foot inside his room as he gets a shirt from his duffel bag, checking out his ass as he had taken his blazer off, your view now unconstructed. You wanted nothing more than to have his belt wrapped around your hands instead of his pants.

Aaron gets a shirt from his bag, handing it to you. It’s blue and the material is rather thin from its usage. “Is this alright?”

“Yeah, thanks again, Hotch.” you flash him a grin, walking out of the room. “I promise not to steal this one like the others.”

He chuckles, waving it off. “You can steal as many of my shirts as you want.”

You laugh, opening your door. Truthfully, you liked his shirts better than any of yours. Most of them were faded but they still smelled like him and you often slept in one of them after stealing the first one. You preferred them to the clothing you’ve stolen from Spencer or Derek, though Emily’s hoodie was a game changer.

Thankfully, you didn't have to share rooms so you got dressed in Aaron’s large t-shirt and put on a pair of pink panties. Like the rest, the hem of the shirt fell down just below your ass, leaving you mostly covered.

Your phone buzzes as you get into bed, Penelope’s message causing you to chuckle.

Pen

I’ve been waiting not-so-patiently for these sexy pics.

Before joining the BAU, you had regularly sent nudes to the men on your roster, wanting nothing more than fun and compliments to boost your confidence. During a girl’s night, and after four shots of vodka, you admitted to Penelope you liked getting feedback on the pictures you took and in both your drunk stage, she had agreed to be one of your critics.

And while you slowly decreased your roster, Penelope was always the first person you sent them to, and she’d give you feedback based on how the picture was taken and what you were wearing. Multiple times she had asked where you’d gotten your lingerie.

So it wasn’t uncommon for you to send her nudes before you sent them to anyone. Not that you had anyone in mind to send this particular set of pictures to, but it was nice to get compliments from a friend after a long day. She was like your agent if you were famous, steering you in the right way.

Texting her you’d send them in a few minutes, you got ready to take several photos. Some included the bathroom mirror, some included you in Aaron’s shirt and two showed you completely naked. Inappropriate use of your boss’ t-shirt made the pictures hotter to you, though no one but you would know. You giggled at the thought of Aaron seeing you use his shirts in your nudes—that would be mortifying.

As if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed again, Aaron’s name popping up in the text notification. Clicking on the message, you saw he wanted to see pictures you had taken from the coroner of the most recent victim.

You’re about to send them to him when Penelope’s text pops up on the top of your screen, reminding you once again to send them. Grinning, you click on your naked images and send them before responding back to Aaron’s message about the dead body. As you click send, you put your phone on the bedside table and pick up the tv remote, putting on whatever the first show you came across.

Normally, Penelope would take about a minute to “study” the photos you’ve sent her but just as you turned the tv on, your phone buzzed, her text lighting up the screen. Frowning, you unlock your phone, confused by her text.

Pen

Ewww, why’d you send me the vic’s dead body???

Heart pounding, you tap on your messages with the blonde, heart dropping when you realize you sent her the pictures from the coroners instead of the promised nudes. You don’t bother to apologize to her when you see you’ve sent Aaron Hotchner six pictures.

And if you didn’t send Penelope your nudes …

Hands shaking you clicked on Aaron’s name, throwing your phone across the room after seeing a photo of your bare cunt in the message you sent him. It hits the wall, denting it slightly as you stare in its general direction, absolutely mortified.

What the actual fuck.

You rush towards your fallen phone, calling Penelope, face red and hands shaking. “Shit, shit, shit. Answer the phone.”

“Hey, when I mean send pictures–”

“I accidentally sent my nudes to Hotch.” you blurt out, plopping back on your bed.

“WHAT?”

Groaning, you banged your head on the mattress, wanting nothing more than to switch places with the corpse you took a picture of. “I meant to send them to you but I guess I switched you up by mistake—I don’t know, I’m really tired and I sent our boss pictures of my tits and pussy, Penelope!”

Silence meets your confession, and you only hear her breathing for a few seconds. “It’s … I don’t … What … I mean, it's not as bad as you’re thinking. Has he seen them yet?”

“How would I know?” you hissed. Pacing back and forth in your room, you bit your lip, worried. “Oh, my God. He’s so going to fire me, or worse: he’s going to want to talk to me about it instead of just ignoring it. OH, MY FUCK.”

Penelope chuckled quietly. “To be fair, they’re probably good pictures.”

“PENELOPE GARCIA.” you whisper-shouted, fidgeting with the hem of your—Aaron’s—shirt. Oh, how you wanted to crumble on your knees and die. “This isn’t like I accidentally sent them to Spence or Derek, I sent them to Aaron Hotchner. It’s like the worst-case scenario. I’d rather send my pussy to Rossi than Hotch.”

“Really? You’d rather send them to Rossi?” she questioned, amused and almost as mortified at the situation, though for different reasons.

“I’d rather send nudes to Rossi than Derek,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “At least with Rossi we can laugh it off but Derek would probably tease me about it until I do something more embarrassing. Oh, God, I’m so going to get fired. I might as well shoot my brains out before he tells me to come to his room to talk.”

“Or … you could go to his room and … you know,” Penelope replied, her tone flirty.

“Leonardo Dicaprio would date a woman over twenty-five years old before that happens, Pen.” you groaned, looking longly at the gun on your bedside table—not that you would actually consider it but, oh to be dead. “I’m actually going to die of embarrassment.”

Before she can reply, someone knocks on your door and you have a suspicion about who it is. You hurriedly say goodbye to the tech analysis, heart heavy as you walk to the door. You think about breaking the hotel window and jumping off from the fourth story but he knocks again, leaving you no choice but to open the door.

Aaron Hotchner stands on the other side, eyes crazed and shirt unbuttoned. You open your mouth to apologize, to make up an excuse, to do some damage control but it seems as if he has other ideas.

He takes a step forward, hands encasing your face as he kisses you. You freeze in shock, and he takes the opportunity to back you against the wall, a hand tilting your jaw and the other tangling in your hair. He bit your lip and you squeal quietly in surprise, his tongue slipping between your lips.

After a few seconds of trying to wrap your head around your boss kissing you, you kiss him back, closing your eyes as you enjoy his lips on yours. His hands drift down your back, squeezing your ass briefly before reaching the hem of your–his–shirt, pulling it up and exposing the pink panties you wore.

He pulls away, both of you breathing hard. Aaron glances down, smirking at the color of your thong before looking back at you, taking a step away and reluctantly taking his hands off of you. You don’t realize you’re whimpering, objecting.

“Do you want this?” he asks, eyes piercing and panting. He still wore his suit, but his shirt was half unbuttoned. You could see his chest peeking from them.

You nodded, taking a step closer to him, bringing you to his touch. “Yes.”

Aaron’s hands are immediately on you again, lips on yours as he whispered. “Good. Tonight, you’ll be filming my cock fucking your needy cunt instead of your fingers.”

a/n: i wanted to write smut but i gotta save my smut juices (ew) for bad ideas 2. also thank u to @callm3c0nfus3d and @gublersgibson for convincing me to do pt 2 :))))

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic

[lawchwan]

Read To Me While I Eat You Out (law)

Summary: You pissed off Law and now he makes you read a book...

Reader: AFAB Genre: Smut Disclaimer: Dom!Law, cunnilingus, mentions of jealousy, fingering, slight degradation, mention of choking, edge play, squirting, badly written ending, mention of Kid (yes, its a warning).

crossposted on ao3

You were nothing but a menace to Law. He didn’t—or so he says—appreciate how you’ve been teasing him the entire day. For you to waltz around and cause chaos within his inner thoughts, you were truly a risk-taker. It was the touching, the eye contact, your body language—which spoke louder than anything you’ve ever uttered—even down to your tone of voice, you were driving that man insane.

And there you were, as he walked into your shared room, he saw you lying on your stomach, chin on your clasped hands, almost as if you were waiting for him in your shared bed. You looked up to him, your fake innocence contrasted with the menacing smile you plastered into your face.  

“Oh, hey, Law,” you spoke, enthusiastically. He simply stood there with his arms crossed as you adjusted your position while he leaned against the wall.

“You’re a bold one, you know that?”

You just widened your eyes, shock plastered on your face—this is exactly what you wanted to hear from him. “What?! What the hell did I do?” You sat up as you feigned your confusion as Law began walking up to you and the scowl on his face was still drawn onto him the entire time, from the moment he walked into the room. God, did he look so hot when pissed off, no other thing could compare to the view you’re having.

“Quit pretendin’ being innocent, (y/n)-ya… you know what you did…”

His tone was hushed but it was still firm and intimidating. Even though that was your goal, you couldn’t help but feel small and slightly being preyed upon. You can’t back down just yet though, you have a mission you need to fulfill; you need to see what he can do to you after all this, after teasing him and edging his needs. “I have no idea what you were talking about,” You say as you backed yourself back into the headboard of the bed as Law got closer to the foot of the bed.

“You have no idea…” He scoffed with a snicker as he rolled his eyes at you, “What was that stunt you did earlier that you did in front of Kid, huh?”

He was talking about how you bent down to “grab the pen” that you “dropped” that just so happened to occur in front of him and Kid, an ally of his. Kid grabbed an eyeful at the sight of your ass in the tight pants you were wearing, even commenting about how lucky Law is and questioning how he can handle all of that, which made Law glare at him with scorn drawn on his face. Kid may have just laughed, but Law was not having it, as that was not the only thing you did to him, as you did continue to compliment him, touch him, or even question his strength and ask him if he could carry you while at it. You truly knew how to set him off.

“Oh, please I was not doing anything…” You tried to speak in a clueless tone, but you almost dropped the act as Law began crawling over to you, his eyes boring at you. You almost gulped at the sight of him getting closer but you still maintained your innocent façade that was about is break sometime soon. Law once again snickered as he knew he knew you too well, you knew you were trying to piss him off, but he was not about to give you your satisfaction.

Before staring into your smirking face, his eyes roaming from your sultry eyes to your half-quirked-up lips and down to your neck, he got up from his place, now making you genuinely confused. You knitted your brow as you looked at him approaching his shelf, “What are you doing?” You questioned, but you got no answer from your intimidating boyfriend, just humming to himself as he was rummaging through his shelf, almost as if he was looking for a specific book. His humming stopped as he let out an ‘aha!’ and got a small yet slightly thick book, and then walked back to you, back to his crawled-up position before sitting in front of you. Your eyes went from bewilderment to realization, as you felt like you knew what was coming, and you weren’t sure if you were ecstatic or nervous.

“Since you’re so smart at teasing me,” Law brings out the book and opens a chapter. After he hands you the book, you look at the page he opened, it was filled with text that was filled with medical texts that are heavy with information. Before you could say anything and without warning, he strips off your shorts and panties, making you gasp at the shocking action as you feel the cool breeze coursing in your sex. he then spreads your legs as he gets in between with his knees on the ground while your legs were dangling off his shoulders.

“Law, wh—"

“Read me the whole chapter. Pause or mess up and you can forget about coming. If you get any close before finishing a chapter, I’ll also stop. Finish the whole chapter and you can feel as good as you want… Think you can handle it?” Although the last statement was a question, Law said it in a ‘matter of fact’ manner, almost like there is no room for you to say no because he knew you’d agree, but he wants to hear it from you regardless.

You gulped as you looked up at him, suddenly those teasing eyes switched to obedience, as you simply nodded at him, and he shook his head, “No, speak up, loud and clear.”

“Y-yes, Law…”

———————

“Law! I c-can’—AH!” 

You screamed as you arched your back and you felt yourself getting closer with Law’s dangerous tongue circling your clit while his tattooed fingers would insert themselves into your sopping hole. When you first started reading, you felt yourself getting heated as Law began with a teasing tiny lick around your labia. You would moan now and then but you were merely doing fine, or so you thought.

When you murmured at the words as you started getting close and closed the book, Law immediately pulled himself off, which made you exasperated by his lips not being around your bundle of nerve and him opening the page from the beginning.

“W-why did you—” Your words were cut short as Law held your face, squishing it and making your eyes wide, “You thought I was fucking around? What did I tell you, huh?” His words were venomous, and you were whimpering at him, silently telling him that he couldn’t be serious, only for him to slightly shake your head before placing his hand under your jaw for you to speak.

“Answer me…”

“If I stopped reading then I’ll not get to come.”

Law smirked menacingly at you as you lost at your own game, or maybe won depending on what context you were trying to get, he patted your cheek as he handed you back the book, and went back to his position, before gruffly telling you,

“Keep reading…”

And he just had to pick the longest chapter of a boring medical book, and he would look up at you while his tongue would abuse your clit while you “read” out his book. You tried, and Law could see that, but he truly gets off to you suffering in this way; being broken all thanks to him, whether it’d be his tongue, fingers, cock, or all. He would even shake his head in fake curiosity just to tease you, even letting out an “aha?…” while his tongue was going in and out of your dripping hole.

He would teasingly let go of his tongue while thrusting his middle and ring finger in and out, letting out a teasing coo, “oh, yeah? Tell me more, baby…” through your fucked out reading.

You were a mess all thanks to his edging, when you stumble on your words, he would tell you to repeat. If you pause, he will first start slapping your thigh and/or your clit to get you to keep going but if you paused for too long, then you’ll have to repeat. you were truly losing yourself, and you were loving it, and Law could sense that with the way you kept messing up.

And here you are now, twenty or more—you and Law have lost track of time— minutes later, down to the last page, and conveniently, you were getting close. As you begged out, Law could see you were having enough, and you did mess up by saying something that was not in the book, but instead of telling you to repeat, he decided to hand you mercy but not too much.

“C’mon, baby, you’re on your last page, you’re almost there,” He said encouragingly, meanwhile you shook your head telling him no while panting. He slowed down again, making you whine, “C’mon, finish up that last page, and you’ll get to come… unless you want me to tell you to rep—”

“Common diseases are known to be complex…”

Law smirked and chuckled as you began to frantically read the last few paragraphs while he proceeded to eat you out like it was his last meal. Once you finish the chapter, you throw away that book, and your hand card itself onto Law’s raven locks almost like its muscle memory while he essentially makes out with your clit while your hole is being penetrated by his skilled fingers.

“Oh, fuck, Law, I’m so close” You panted out your words as Law just hummed and continued his tongue and finger work. Your breathing began to be frantic as you screwed your eyes as shut as you felt like lava explosion out of a volcano. Your essence began to squirt out of your hole and covered Law’s lower half of his face. He removed his fingers as he began slurping onto the remaining juices you’d let out while you looked down astonished before throwing your head back to the mattress behind you.

Your eyes were closed until you felt a weight between you, your eyes slowly opened, blurry before your vision readjusted as you saw your smiling boyfriend looking down at you,

“You good?”

You just smiled back as you nodded, “Never been better…”

“Good… I hope I didn’t break you too much.”

You just chuckled and you shook your head, “No, you didn’t.” You responded, before getting up to crawl over to the other side of the bed, which made Law’s smile drop as he saw what you were getting. It was the same book you read to him through this.

His action mirrored how you acted when he handed you the book, but this time you pushed him onto the bed and you gave him the book of the same chapter. Now you straddled his hips as you began playing with the belt that wrapped around his pants and began unbuckling.

“Since you’re the medic here, I want you to read what I read and perhaps explain what it means…” You say with a smirk as Law’s eyes begin to bulge while the lower half of his face is covered in the book, you lean forward to whisper, “If you mess up, you can forget about coming. If you finish up, I’ll let you come in me without a drip out of me… sounds good?”

I guess you never lost your game after all.

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

#one piece headcanons #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law smut #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece law #sage's trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #law one shot

[strawberrysainz]

romanticism. charles leclerc

“ being charles leclerc’s assistant was a piece of work. you loved him though. ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning — crude language, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, semi-mature scenes.

word count: 2.8k

“Do you want a biscuit?” He pointed to the box of red, racing-themed biscuits, mouth already full with one. “Please don’t tell anyone.” He added as an afterthought, and you snorted to yourself, setting down a notebook to take a gingerbread man decorated as him.

The instagram handle for the baker was loud and proud on the box, and you took a photo of the little Charles, making a note to post it later.

Qualifying hadn’t gone very well for Charles, hence the angry biscuit-eating. He’d ended up third, but an incident in the famous tunnel of the Principality had cost him three more places. His white suit was blinding in the tiny room, and his frustrated little huffs as he flung things this way and that made you slightly on edge.

You had been scrambling to catch up with him this season; you had been dealing with a family crisis until Miami, leaving Charles with some guy as his assistant for the past races. You had thought he was decent at first, but Charles was a precise guy; if he was relying on you to keep it together at work for him, then you’d better fucking do it the way he wanted. Even you didn’t mess with Charles on a race weekend. He was so nervous or upset or he was the happiest guy in the world - it didn’t matter, you just had to be consistent, comforting and take things as they went.

You swore he could’ve kissed you when you arrived on Monday.

But here you were on Saturday, still uneasy; Monaco had always freaked you out - you didn’t believe in the curse because Charles scorned it, but a part of you had anticipated that a stroke of bad luck would always have its way here. It was nine in the evening, and the crowds were still insane. You were prepared to walk back to your apartment at this point, even if it would take you about an hour with the blocked off roads. You handed Charles his clean clothes to change into after his shower, and you were about to go home for the night -

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

You tilted your head. You knew Charles’ new girlfriend had arrived this morning, surely he’d do something with her?

He must’ve seen the look on your face, and his unsureness- the way he couldn’t believe what he were saying- made you embarrassed.

“No, it’s alright. Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll struggle to get back to mine anyway.” You said abruptly. “Must I make you an Instagram post while you’re in the shower?”

He nodded, unlocking his phone. You immediately went into Google Drive to get some pictures as he left, when a message from Alexandra came in.

You blanched; usually, bar your forgetfulness, you put the phone on the do not disturb function so that you didn’t see what he was getting sent- but the full stops and seriousness made you guiltily keep a finger on the notification.

You’re being ridiculous. I can’t give up my job to come cheer you on. I know it’s Monaco but I thought I made it clear. I can’t make it after all, C. My job is equally as important as yours. You’ll be fine.

You inhaled sharply; she was pissed. You thought she was reasonable, but you knew how much it meant to him to have people here; he struggled in Monaco, and even if he didn’t admit it he was so anxious to please.

I’m sure she’ll have a little fuckin hug and a kiss for you. I’m not a cheerleader, that’s her job, Charles. Watch her under the podium instead. Or maybe not after all- I saw you got P6

Talk tomorrow

Your eyes widened. Was she talking about you?

You were being too nosy. You selected the pictures and put them together, locking his phone on the caption section so he’d write what he’d like. As you opened the door to leave, he was there, his eyes meeting yours; and he must’ve known that you knew something because he lowered his gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly, patting his arm. “Sleep well.”

There was a desperation in his tone when he asked you again to supper.

Well, how the fuck could you say no? He was clearly desperate.

“I’ll invite Joris and Lorenzo, and Arthur.” He said quickly, and you sighed; “The usual?” It was a little tapas restaurant 15 minutes away.

You closed the door then, confused, and walked away, opening your phone to call Joris for a lift.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You were in the front seat surrounded by the familiar smell of Joris’ car; you two had become good friends- always together, waiting, working because of Charles.

You were busy typing about the gingerbread man when Joris asked you about the lack of Alex (Charles had probably been talking about her first Grand Prix together with him).

You paused. “They seem to be having some sort of rift. Not sure. Ask him.” You said shortly; you tried to stay out of his love life as much as you could. You’d liked his previous girlfriend to an extent, but the final events leading up to their breakup made it awkward for you to say goodbye. You tried desperately to be professional but at that point you were a really close friend of Charles’.

Joris nodded. You two did enjoy a paddock gossip now and again, but when it involved Charles alone you really weren’t into it.

You ended up taking longer to get to the restaurant because you made him stop at your house - you weren’t going to turn up in Ferrari gear - and showered, put new clothes on and sprinted back to his car in the drizzle.

Walking through the restaurant to your table in the corner, Joris was busy chattering on about the home GP content he was busy with; you were fiddling with your hair, your bracelets, your clothes, irritated to be there. Trying to be normal around Charles in non-work situations like he didn’t fucking employ you always stressed you out.

Not to mention he was being so awkward as of late.

You slid into the bench next to Lorenzo, giving him a warm pat on the arm as Joris sat on your other side. Charles was smiling at the sight of you - you greeted Arthur, and then him, and you were presented with some iced tea (no one drank next to Charles on a Saturday before the race).

You were lost in the conversation between Arthur and Charles (Arthur hadn’t done so well in F2 today either) when Lorenzo caught your attention.

“How are you?” You adored the way he spoke French; it was low and comfortable, in the kind of way that reminded you of a warm hug.

“Alright.” You said, giggling, and he nodded seriously. He knew about your stress - he’d never raced as intensely as his two brothers - and you’d always found him a comfort.

He was busy telling you about something - a trip with his girlfriend - when you heard the distress in Charles’ tone and turned to him. He was staring at the paella in front of him.

Joris was silent; Arthur just looked lost.

“What’s wrong?” You said quietly, and you noticed a few stubborn tears in his eyes that he was dying not to let fall.

“I’m just not feeling good about the race.” His tone was terribly melancholic, and you felt a bit frozen. “I- Cha-“

Lorenzo was stiff; you blinked.

Charles sat up straight. “It’s okay. Sorry.” His tone indicated no more talking about it, and Joris launched into a conversation about something, Arthur hurriedly joining in. You made eye contact with him sternly; we were talking about this later.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

Supper had come and gone, the bill had been paid, and you found yourself alone in Charles’ car at 10:53 pm on the way back to your apartment.

“Please come in.” You had said to him, after he refused to go home immediately to sleep; promising a cup of tea before he got home.

You had dropped your keys by the front door and entered, your cat greeting the two of you. “What’s wrong?” You said, starting the kettle with a tenderness in your tone you could never replicate with anyone else.

Charles was just sighing, complaining, choking with emotion as he spoke of his fears - dear God, he was struggling - you poured milk and sugar, biting a lip, and eventually it became too much that you brought him in for a tight hug in the light of your kitchen, a song playing in the corner.

You pulled away, and to your surprise he was looking into your eyes softly, a gentleness in his expression that freaked you out. You felt your body soften as his hand met your hip, and you knew, despite yourself, you could never refuse him.

“Cha…” you murmured, gaze on his lips. Holy shit, this was so wrong.

He let out a little sigh that had you going insane, and you turned around to fetch the tea, overwhelmed; this was the only way you could prevent whatever what was happening, not happen.

He murmured your name again, and you turned around slowly, guiltily watching his beautiful face, certain feelings you’d suffocated return just like that.

His hand met your arm, gentle pressure prompting you to put the tea down. You gasped quietly as his hand on your hip brought you together, eyes wide and wanting.

He met your lips with his, and it was like a wildfire that burned, bright and haunting, kissing you everywhere, his touch burning, thigh in between your legs, arms and hands touching you everywhere, you were gasping and he was moaning, the desire in the air thick, scary, and his facial hair tickled you in a delicious way that made you shiver, eyes lidded, dark, and suddenly he was moving to take his shirt off and you stepped back, terrified, lonely.

“Charles, you have a girlfriend.” You said lowly, hair messy. You noticed your lipstick all over his lips and face.

He looked scared of himself. “Fuck. I have to go. I need to sleep.”

“And talk to Alex.” You said, scaring yourself with the heaviness of your tone, and he was gathering his things, tea forgotten.

When he left, you waved him out, mouth wobbling, and you burst into tears after closing the door, clutching your mouth, your sobs shaking you, sinking down to the floor.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You’d agreed to lift Joris the previous night, so you were glad to ditch seeing Charles until you really had to - an hour later, you walked into his driver’s room; he was doing some exercises with Andrea while the social media intern videoed him. You stayed out of sight of the camera, leaning against the wall, trying to distract yourself from the previous night’s events.

You were wearing more makeup than usual to hide your puffy eyes from the tears last night, determined to act as if nothing had happened. You really hated that Charles had cheated on his girlfriend with you; you could put it down to him being vulnerable, but you were at fault as much as he was.

When everyone had left, Charles was left on the couch staring sheepishly at you. You crossed your arms, an invisible ocean separating you two, you two continents.

“I told Alex.” He said calmly.

“And?”

“She said she can’t be with me if I’m not being faithful and she’s not there all the time. We’ve only been together three months. She’s not into it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was my fault. I made a move when I wasn’t meant to. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

From the way he was moaning yesterday, you weren’t sure if that was true.

“Okay.” You snort, moving to open the door. “Driver’s parade in 20 minutes. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded, waving a goodbye as you left.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

P6, like he started.

It was consistent, Joris had joked in your ear as you shook your head, trying not to laugh. He’d had a pretty good race, the team hadn’t fucked up, it was just the way it went.

He had been busy with press and much more before he ended up back with Andrea where you and Joris had been waiting for about three hours (you were also a bit drunk; you’d had too many glasses of champagne from Paddock Club).

“Hi!” You giggled, high-fiving him. “Good job.” Joris also cackled, and Charles shot you a glare. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” You said firmly, shaking your head. “I am very sober.” You said, and Joris nodded seriously. “We had a little bit of champagne.”

Andrea gestures to the bottle that was on the table beside you. “What’s that?”

“For Cha! A well done.” You beamed, and presented it to him. Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “I am going to have to drive you two back in her car, no? Put my bicycle in the back.”

You and Joris were squealing with laughter at the idea, and the two standing before you were laughing at you.

“Come, you fucking idiots.”

“No! You can’t insult me, you kiiiiissssed me,” you giggled, and Joris didn’t catch it, but Andrea did, shooting Charles a glare, who if looks could kill, would’ve shot you dead. He looked so pissed.

“Come,” he snapped, and Andrea said that he’d take Joris.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

He pulled up to your apartment. “Come in.” You said, and Charles scoffed. “Not for a long time now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You looked so vulnerable, rain falling on your head as you peered down at him. “Are you taking my car? I’ll come fetch it tomorrow.” You said softly. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sorry, I was stupid. I needed to relax for one fucking minute this week.”

Charles’ eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to say something before he closed it, nodding curtly, and drove away.

You couldn’t differentiate the raindrops from your tears, forcefully wiping them away.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You knocked on his door at midday the next afternoon, wanting to thank him before flying to Spain. You hated the energy he’d given you since you’d kissed; it was wildly different and you loathed it.

He answered a minute or so later, glasses on and a scruffy jumper, eyes tired. “Hi,” you were out of breath all of a sudden; he was so terribly attractive.

He looked surprised to see you. “I came to say thank you. And get my keys.”

“Come in. Do you want coffee?” He said instead, and you felt a bit of déjà vu from two nights before, hauntingly familiar.

You loved his apartment. The red and white was a colour scheme you adored, and you sat on the sofa while he made you a coffee, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk just how you liked.

“I want to say sorry for how weird I was this week. I just hate the Grand Prix in Monaco, you know?” You said hurriedly, and he set down the coffee, sitting down next to you. He laughed. “I know. I know.” It had been this way since 2021- when you had started working for him- and he kept having shit races here.

He held out his hand. You squeezed it. “Let’s move on from it.”

He smirked. “Am I such a bad kisser?”

Your jaw dropped, throwing your head back laughing. “Cha!”

He was dead serious. “Why do you want to move on?”

“I work for you?” You said, disbelievingly, and his mouth twitched. “Charles, come on.”

He picked up the mug and took a sip.

You quite literally wanted to die.

He set it down again, looking seriously at you. “I don’t regret the kiss, if you want to know.”

You stare at him. “It literally broke you and your girlfriend up.”

“I like you.” He shrugged. “More than her. More than I thought.”

You laugh, bringing the coffee to your lips. “And when I saw your lipstick on my face…” he trailed off, blushing, “Fuck.”

You swear you were as red as a mother fucking tomato at this point.

“Slow down.” You retorted, trying not to spit the coffee out.

“Kiss me.”

You stare at him again. Was he fucking delusional?

“What?” You hiss.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you.

You’re pulled onto his lap, breath gone, kissing him as hard as you can. Your head is thrown back as he goes for your neck, and the sounds he’s making make you moan.

“You’re really hot with glasses on,” you tell him, and he falters, giggling, before carrying on.

This time you let him take his shirt off, matching him.

You fall back onto the couch. Those eyes on yours, the eyes of your beautiful boy.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

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lorenzotl Padel boyssss

user i wish I had your job girl

carlossainz55 Please give me a shirt @charles_leclerc

maisonde.monaco ❤️‍🔥💋

user So glad to see you back in the paddock again!!

thanks for reading bestie ❤️‍🔥

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#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fluff #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity. 

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other. 

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.  

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P." 

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.  

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.” 

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. 

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons. 

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family." 

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation. 

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—" 

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to." 

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision. 

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?” 

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.” 

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay. 

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy." 

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun." 

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.” 

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.” 

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.” 

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise." 

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.  

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead. 

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text. 

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab. 

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate. 

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?” 

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.” 

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often." 

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."  

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”  

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home. 

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.” 

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side. 

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect. 

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?” 

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.  

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face. 

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake. 

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.” 

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.” 

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly. 

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here." 

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added. 

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired." 

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap. 

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor. 

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.” 

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?” 

“I love it,” you tell him.  

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.” 

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling. 

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to." 

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh. 

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him. 

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him. 

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."  

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along. 

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.” 

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.” 

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.  

“Sweet dreams.” 

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.” 

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.” 

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.” 

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."  

“That's better,”  you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.” 

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission. 

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail. 

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen. 

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”  

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.” 

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.” 

“Don't tell me what to do,"  you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera. 

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.  

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack. 

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore. 

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa." 

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”  

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t. 

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel,  "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.” 

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.” 

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.” 

“Please do.”  

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it." 

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again. 

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question. 

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home." 

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”  

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.” 

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.” 

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate. 

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—" 

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone. 

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.” 

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...” 

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. ���But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass. 

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing. 

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug. 

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.” 

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!” 

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.” 

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes. 

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind. 

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway. 

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way. 

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room. 

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!”  he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver. 

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race. 

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.” 

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you. 

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it," 

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk. 

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back. 

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.  

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself. 

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly. 

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile. 

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel. 

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.” 

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.  

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?” 

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm. 

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck. 

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks. 

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his. 

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs. 

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds." 

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.  

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.” 

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.  

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.” 

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say." 

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.” 

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster. 

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch. 

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you. 

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him. 

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.” 

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.” 

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard. 

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over. 

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum." 

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel. 

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself. 

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer." 

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours. 

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.” 

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.” 

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me." 

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky. 

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?” 

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again. 

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you. 

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.” 

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick. 

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.” 

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”  

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house. 

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page. 

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.” 

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?  

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you. 

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex. 

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard. 

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it." 

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse. 

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.” 

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them." 

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?" 

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas." 

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.” 

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.” 

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you. 

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace. 

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful," 

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.  

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?” 

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it. 

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss. 

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend. 

“Can I wash your hair?” 

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.” 

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy. 

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”  

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out. 

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!” 

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island. 

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress. 

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing. 

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content. 

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.” 

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.” 

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that." 

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this. 

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen. 

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew. 

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.  

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling. 

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week. 

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this." 

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.” 

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels. 

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end. 

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid. 

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story. 

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity. 

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart. 

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go. 

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything. 

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

#love is complicated fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Actually the concept of Nightbringer is so funny?

It's a fish out of water situation like with S1 (and many other otome games) except MC won't be the fish

They're the one who's going to know the most about the Devildom's history and culture and customs (even thousands of years in the past) while the brothers have just been dropped on their asses fresh outta the Celestial Realm where, at this point in time, demons are thought of as purely evil beings who can't even conceive the idea of peace

The brothers should, rightfully, be the ones floundering because their bodies, self, magic, entire world, world view and concept of just about anything has being flipped on its head while MC who was scarily adaptable to new situations in S1 itself has been living in & out of the Devildom for years now.

The brothers are going to be given new high positions within the Devildom while still holding disdain for demons and MC's gonna be their "demon attendant" who they'll obviously see as a lower class of demon from themselves - giving them two reasons to disregard MC - except MC would be scarily competent and just seeming to quietly know everything while also being weirdly mysterious.... do you see what I'm getting at? MC's gonna be giving off a S1 Barbatos-esque vibe to the brothers😭😭😭 (though obviously less stoic)

Mammon's gonna say or do something and MC's gonna say "oooh I know that look" and Mammon's gonna be like "????We literally just met???"

Or Belphie's gonna talk about how terrible humans are and how he wants to kill them all and MC's gonna be like "haha yeah wow they're the worst huh" while trying to pretend they're not a human who was more than willing to kill another human for daring to point a gun at Belphie

Or the brothers are gonna be settling down in their new home and MC's gonna be like "lol remember to put aside some money for Beel" and Lucifer's gonna be like "wha-" and Beel's already eaten half the sofa

Or MC's gonna forget and mention a new anime that was supposed to come out and Levi's gonna be like "what's anime?" and MC's gonna have to sit there in silence for a while to process

MC's gonna instantly know how to make Lucifer's shitty black-darker-than-his-actual-soul coffee and that might be the reason why present Lucifer likes his coffee like that

MC's gonna know the brothers more than they even know themselves and that's driving me insane

Also pretending to be a "demon attendant" as if Barbatos who can see through timelines & alternate universes and Diavolo who can tell when people are lying won't instantly know. And MC who knows them so well is going to know that they know. Just constantly "haha yes I'm the sins' demon attendant that you definitely appointed haha👁👁" and "haha yes you're the sins' demon attendant whom we definitely appointed haha👁👁"

Also what's Solomon's angle here?? Because he doesn't start seeing demons as friends until after he meets MC in the future. At this point they're beings he can trick & use to achieve his goals (one of which is getting closer to Lucifer & making a pact). So he's definitely not helping MC out of the goodness of his heart and this is probably another way to achieve that goal (specially if he finds out MC's already made pacts with all 7 sins).

Anyway, sounds like fun times for everyone! Oh and also trauma for the brothers ig

#obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me mc #om mc #obey me! mc #om! mc #obey me shall we date #obey me! #shall we date? obey me! #swd obey me #swd obey me! #shall we date obey me #om! solomon #obey me! solomon #om! barbatos #obey me! barbatos #om! diavolo #obey me! diavolo #om! mammon

[boyfriendstevie]

good morning, indeed

steve joins you in the shower before work, and you have a feeling you'll be running a bit late | just a lil somethin for my first fic here! i hope y'all enjoy -- feel free to send me your soft n spicy steve thoughts hehe. & shoutout to @hungharrington everyone say thank u jay. | 1.1k afab!reader, shower sex, fingering, mentions of a blow job. 18+!!! mdni!!!!

Steve is a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he gets in the shower after you’ve already started. And you know, too. Still, you lean back into him after the initial shock of his touch surprises you. Big hands spread across your waist, pressing into the softness of your hips and tummy. Your back presses into his front, the hair on his chest scratching against your skin lightly as he leans forward to hook his chin over your shoulder. He hums quietly, voice still raspy with sleep, lips ghosting over your cheek as he murmurs, “Hi, honey.” A soft kiss presses to your cheekbone. 

“Stevie,” you reply softly, half in greeting, half in warning. You’re trying to get ready for work, and now that he’s joined you, there’s a good chance you’ll be late. 

His lips move from your cheek to your jaw, and then just underneath your ear, nose nudging against your neck. He knows just what to do to turn you into putty under his touch, and sure enough, your eyes flutter closed, lips parting as you sigh in bliss. You can feel his smile against your skin before he bites down gently, sucking at your pulse point just hard enough to leave a bruise. You’re definitely going to be late if you let him continue, so you try again to get his attention, “Steve, I have to… oh— I have to g-get ready for work… Don’t have much time…”

“We can be quick,” he replies without missing a beat, one warm palm sliding up your wet torso to cup your breast, the other creeping in the opposite direction, pinky daring to brush out across your hip bone. 

He’ll stop if you want him to, no questions asked. But you’d already been admiring him in bed this morning before you had to get up, and now that he’s touching you, you’re not sure you’ll make it through the day if he stops. You gasp as his thumb brushes over your nipple before pinching, another nip to your neck before he places a delicate kiss there. You tip your head back to glance at Steve the best you can, and you take in his wet, slicked back hair, the water beading in his eyelashes, and nod eagerly, “Okay. Quick, though…” 

“Quick,” he agrees again, wasting no time in pushing further down to cup your cunt with his hand. Two fingers drag up your center, collecting some of your slick before pressing into your clit, rubbing in slow circles. Your breath hitches, and you know he’s smirking again; you can hear it as he asks, “Yeah? Right there?” 

One of your hands grasps at his forearm that’s pressing against your hips and you nod quickly, “Please.” 

He knows what you’re asking, and while he’s not going to make you wait long, he teases you a bit more, circling your clit a few more times before his fingers dip back down to your entrance. Then, just before you can ask again, two of his fingers ease into your cunt. Steve groans as his fingers push in knuckle-deep, voice low as he murmurs, “Fuck, honey, you’re so wet f’me.”

“Steve, I— ah!” Your words catch in your throat, a gasp forcing its way out as his fingers scissor apart to spread you open, the hand on your chest pinching your nipple again. Your fingers dig into his arm, clutching him so tightly that you’re sure you’re going to leave behind small crescent shapes embedded into his skin from your nails. If it bothers him, he doesn’t say anything as he fucks you with his fingers, a slow drag in and out of your cunt, scalding kisses pressing to the crook of your neck and down your shoulder. 

The heel of his palm rubs against your clit every time his fingers push in deep in a way that drives you insane. And when his fingers curl, brushing against the spot inside you that makes you see stars, you can’t help the moan you let out. The sound echoes off the shower's tall walls, and if you weren’t so lost in Steve, you might feel embarrassed. 

“Can feel you clenching around me, baby. Gonna come for me? Can’t have you late for work…” Steve is still sounding smug, but he’s a bit breathless. You can feel him against your bum as he holds you against him, hard cock pressing into you. He unabashedly grinds into you, letting out a low groan of his own. 

It’s enough to send you over the edge, overwhelmed with his hands seemingly everywhere, the shower's warm water still falling against your face. The hand not clutching his arm flies out, reaching for something to grab onto, but you have to settle for the slippery shower wall. You don’t have enough wherewithal to warn Steve, but he knows you like the back of his hand, and tightens his arm around your waist to keep you upright as you come on his fingers with a series of expletives and a strangled moan of his name. 

“There you go, honey,” Steve murmurs, soft kisses trailing to your cheek, fingers not stilling until you squirm away, overstimulated. His hold on you finally loosens and he places his hands on your hips, gently turning you around until your back is against the shower wall. He gives you a cheeky grin and asks, “Feelin’ good?” 

You let out a breathless laugh and nod, even though he knows your answer. Your legs still feel a bit like jelly, so you reach up and hook one arm around his neck, the other hand pushing wet hair out of his eyes. And just before you lean up and give him the first proper kiss of the day, you reply, “Well, good morning, I guess.”  

His kiss is eager, hands dropping to your ass and squeezing as he pulls you into him. He’s still so hard against your hip, and you’re already going to be late, so you figure there’s no harm in returning the favor, “Your turn, Stevie.” 

“You, ah— you don’t have to, baby. D-don’t want you late for work,” he stutters as your hand wraps around his length, stroking him slowly. 

“Already late, might as well make it worth it,” you grin, pecking his lips one last time before you sink to your knees in front of him. 

Your lips press to his hipbone, and Steve already feels like a mess as your thumb swipes out over the tip of his cock. He sighs, fingers weaving into your hair, “Good morning, indeed.” 

--

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve smut #steve harrington blurbs #kit writes

[waywardducks]

Incorrect bat family quotes but as things me and my sibling have done/said.

Jason: *just trying to read* *feels an eery presence just watching him.*

Damien and Tim: *both just starting at him*

Jason: Yes? Can I help you?

Tim: Slushies

Jason: okay?

Damien: Take us to them.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick: *Chilling in his bed*

Cass: *very slowly opening the door to his room*

Both: *just stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time*

Dick: Please, child. What is it? I can't handle this suspense.

Cass: *quietly* I have a pool party today…

Dick: okay? I'm glad for you.

Cass: …

Cass: Can you go buy me tampons?

Dick:

Dick: Of fucking course I can go buy you tampons! *already jumping out of bed* What size?

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Damien: *angry, slamming doors, punching walls, screaming at everyone*

Tim: Autism is one hell of a bitch

Dick: Tim, no

Jason: No, no, he's got a point. We really should get him checked out.

Damien: I CAN HEAR YOU

*he was diagnosed with autism the following month*

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Stephaine: *putting makeup on Cass* almost done!

Tim: we need to hurry, the movie is starting soon

Stephanie: It's fine, we have plenty of time, now let me do your makeup.

Dick: What are y'all doing? Why is everything… pink?

Cass: We are going to watch Barbie

Dick: Can I come?

Steph: Nah it's girls night?

Dick: Then why is Tim going?

Steph: He's one of the girls, obviously.

Tim: Yeah, obviously.

Dick: *crying* I wanna be one of the girls too

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Bruce: Hey, Tim

Tim: Yeah? What's up?

Bruce: Remember how you're therapist mention she thought you might have ASD?

Tim: Yeah, she said she wasn't %100 percent sure on it though.

Bruce: Well she just sent me a document confirming your diagnosis.

Tim:

Dick: Woah dude! Congrats on the tism!

Jason: Welcome to the spectrum little bro!

Damien: Is Dick the only one that isn't ASD?

Dick: *is sad bc he's left out of the club again*

- ✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick, Tim, Jason and Damien: *driving down the road at 4 in the morning, blasting fnaf songs at full volume* IVE GOT NO TIME!! I've GOT NO TIME TO LIVE

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Tim: Jason. I'm bi

Jason: Okay

Tim: Okay? That's all you have to say?

Jason: damn Tim, tf you want be to say? Sorry?

Tim: No! I just thought-

Jason: If you have boy problems go to Dick. He's the one with the most experience in that field.

Dick: Hey! I resent that!

Jason: Oh please, you can call yourself straight all you want but you and both know you've what kinda person you were when you first became Nightwing.

Dick: I wasn't gay Jason I was a slut its different.

Jason: sure, okay.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

I'm gonna make this a series lmao. Being in a house with 6 kids gives you a lot of stories.

Also, yes, 3 of my younger siblings are officially diagnosed with autism. (Damien and my sister are literally the same person. I have so many headcanons about it, it's not even funny. She even has the same insane art skills, I'm terrified of how fast she learned to do things I've been in school for years to learn)

#stephanie brown #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #dc comics #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfam #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin

[moncherellie]

water polo player! abby

a/n: hey!! i know i said id be posting for ellie first but this thought hasn't left me for a month. i love the though of this oh my god i am feral. thanks for reading! rb or comment to support a lil fic author :) also i'm gonna be referring to water polo as a super gay sport and that's because it is xoxo i mean high contact with buff women. like.

-content/warnings: 1.4k, mentions of contact sport violence, smut scenes (strap, riding abby, nickname 'beautiful', semipublic sex in a locker room, fingering, oral (both receiving), gn reader but has a pussy, mentions of roughhousing in water/ drowning (not really drowning but yk)

men dni.

water polo is one of the most intense sports- it's high contact, rough, with a high probability of being punched, getting a black eye, etc

but when you're as buff as ms abby anderson here, it's not as big of a deal

there aren't really many set positions in wp, but the most important one is center- placed front-and-center of the goal, they're the person everyone looks to to get a good shot

center has to be dependable, strong, and fast

abby is perfect! her drive is amazing (ahem ahem) and she's constantly swimming like crazy to get into position so her team can rely on her

she started in high school, learning the ropes and getting to know the sport

got crazy good, and was definitely a very proud varsity athlete. she knows she's good, so why shouldn't she flaunt a bit?

im gonna be honest she absolutely wore her varsity jacket for way too long during freshman year in college

she joined her collegiate team (possibly on a small grant/scholarship) and met the most amazing team

it's hard to be queer in sports a lot of the time, but her entire team is queer/allied!! she has a space to be herself which she really appreciates

she blossoms on that team

every girl at her college absolutely drops their panties for her im not even kidding. its not even that fun to her because she just wants someone to love, not just a hookup

((that doesn't mean she rejects them all though))

the pretty center draws crowds to the natatorium

and that includes you, of course

you're a friend of the goalie and you're not all that into sports, but once you hear that the hot girl you've been thirsting over in org. chem is there?? it's all over, goodBYE

you are seated right in the action, front row of the bleachers, cheering in school colors, pretty eyes glimmering in the bright sun, sweat drops dripping down the front of your shirt

abby is fully focused on her game but when she's benched she gets a liiiiiittle distracted ngl

like i said though, she's mostly game face

but after a win? she feels like she's never lost. she's pure confidence and she decides to keep the streak going and see if she can successfully get your number

it's slightly awkward because when abby gets closer she sees that wow you are so much more attractive than she first thought when she had chlorine water in her eyes

so she just doesn't ask you out lolol she bails and bugs the goalie about you for the week leading up to the game, asking who you are, if you're coming next time, if you like this or that

her hands are so large and strong from gripping that ball... just imagine what they could be used for !

her thighs are absolutely massive- she has to stay above the water somehow, and the kicking she has to do has sculpted her into a thunder-thigh goddess

eating her out is insane because she fucking clamps down on your head with her thighs LMAO

broad shoulders that you can hold while riding her

strong shoulders that you grip and squeeze onto for dear life every night before a game as she plows into you for "good luck"

-the room is filled with the rhythmic slapping of her skin against your thighs as she grips your hips and bucks up into you.

"taking it so well for me, huh? my little good luck charm..." and you can't say anything. you just whine as you feel every muscle in her body working overtime to treat you just right

the veins in her forearms throb and pop out as she bounces you up and down, touching and squeezing and groping everywhere she can. she looks up at you cheekily, biting her lips and grinning. "there we go, beautiful, look 't you go"

"i'll be sore tomorrow" she says. it isn't a complaint. she says it's her favorite workout

yeah she says she's done but she's also finger fucking you in the locker room during half-time

-"sorry coach, i'll be quick, i promise!" abby lifts herself out of the pool with pure upper body strength, muscles tensing and water dripping off her like some kind of lesbian wet dream. when she promises haste, she means you'll be quick, because you know the drill. you're already amongst the rows of lockers as abby pushes you against them, sliding past your underwear and shoving her fingers in. her thumb is on your clit, middle and ring fingers finding your g-spot immediately and going at it relentlessly. "think you can do 5 minutes for me, beautiful?

-you can because she won't accept anything else. you're cumming all over her fingers, groaning at the overstimulation as she fucks you through it. when you're done, she pulls out, inserting her fingers into her mouth and cleaning them. you shoot her a playful dirty look as she jogs back out the locker room door

-"thanks for the pep talk, babe!" girl.

she wins every game and says it's because of you

it's sweet, but she's just that good of an athlete

but if you met her because you play too? oh get ready for a whole 'nother world

you're her defense during practice, in the trenches with her and jumping over her shoulders to make sure she doesn't get the ball

but she'll do petty shit to fluster you, like turning and kissing your shoulder and holding your hand in the middle of wrestling for position like ???

-"anderson!" the team captain reprimands. she gives a cheeky smile and puts her game face back on, pinching your thigh underwater where nobody can see

water polo players' love language is straight up drowning people. like the coach yells for everyone to meet him in the corner of the pool and instead she's fucking barrelling toward you, wanting to pull you under

when you're waiting to practice throwing the ball into the goal, she'll slide under the surface and tug at your ankles to pull you

when you come back up, she's giggling like a child and acting like it was another teammate

-"abby, i know it was you, you idiot!" you say, grinning

despite not really having jerseys like in other sports, abby will have you wear her team merch with logos

you wear last year's team shirt to bed, her flannel pants to class, her two-piece tops when you go to the beach with her

you go crazy for her when she's in her polo suit. they're tight so that players can't get grabbed, but it's tight in all the right places

it showcases abby's broad shoulders and slutty waist, curving around her chest and tastefully contouring her back muscles

thank god for this sport, you think

she always complains about how the suit rides up her butt, giving her a slight wedgie, but it gives you perfect access to her tight ass

smacksmacksmack

-"can you hold off for one minute, babe?"

-"no."

it's like there's no person attached to that ass. and she's just as obsessed with yours dw! she uses those big hands to grasp your entire cheek and land a harsh slap! on there that makes you jump. she just smiles n laughs

water polo! abby who takes you out to dinner after games and ends up stealing your food because "ohmygodbabeimsohungryyoudontevenunderstand"

it's like she's never eaten

speaking of eating... (im sorry)

she will throw your legs open when she eats you out. if you try to shut them she'll use the full force of her forearms to pin your thighs down and dig her face deeper in your pussy, sucking and licking like a woman starved

who wrote that. i didn't. anyways..

you put her hair up in a fishtail braid for her !! then she'll ask you to put her swim cap on and give you a cute smile when you screw it up

-"i fucked it up! sorry!"

-"babe it looks great" while she's tucking all her shorter hairs into the bottom of it

if her team is winning by a lot, she'll mess around a bit and point at you after she scores a goal, and you roll your eyes and your face feels hot because she's so ridiculous

but you do feel a lil special.

anyways water polo abby mi amor :3333 take me in the locker room

#abby andedrson x reader #tlou x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x reader flluff #tlou2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x gn reader #gender neutral #abby anderson smut #wlw #moncherellie writing #the last of us 2 fic

[cameronspecial]

Assisting In Deception (Part 10)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Jokes

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.1K 

Summary: Can Rafe do whatever he can to get his happily ever after with Y/N?

A/N: This is the final part and I hope you enjoy it! I am going to miss writing for these two because I love their dynamic.

Masterlist

The news had gotten out, not only about Y/N and Rafe’s break up but also about their relationship being only for the media and wedding. A lower-level lawyer at Cameron Development had found their contract and after the breakup was made public by someone at the company, she thought it was a good time for a payday. In true media fashion, Y/N was crucified for being a whore and materialistic, while Rafe was praised for being such a great boyfriend to her even when the relationship was fake. The double standard bothers Rafe way more than it did Y/N. She has finally learned not to take anything to heart. Rafe on the other hand knows how much those labels sunk into her skin, especially since he called her those exact same things. He has done every single possible interview he could to clear her name, but no outlet would really listen to his words. 

Not to mention, his father’s anger just adds to his feeling of guilt. Ward screamed about how Rafe could treat her that way and he should’ve made the relationship real as soon as he knew he was falling for her. Ward wasn’t upset at the lie; instead, his feelings were more focused on the fact that his son had let love go.

Rafe is going to get her back though and this is the only thing he has ever been a hundred percent sure about in his entire life. The long days without the refreshing smell of strawberry shampoo and the long nights without the soft whispers from her sleeping lips are driving him insane. Every morning and night he reaches out to pull her into his warmth, always being left empty-handed. 

He thinks of a thousand ways to make it up to her, but he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to go to the one person who he knows could help him with her. “Juni, please talk to me. I need your help,” he begs, wedging his foot between the door and its frame to stop it from shutting in his face. The shorter girl shakes her head, “She is very angry at you. I don’t know what I can do for you. We both know she doesn’t mess around and that’s exactly what you did, Big C” His eyes flicker to the carpeted floors of the hallway, dragging his left foot back and forth across it. “You don’t need to think about anything. I just need you to send her food every week. I’ll give you my card number so you can charge it to me because I know she won’t take it if I put my name on it,” he states. His hand reaches into his pocket to pull out his card. Her head tilts and her eyebrows frow together to become one.

“If this is about getting her back, then what’s the point of sending her the food without your name?” 

“It’s not about her forgiving me or taking me back. I just want to make sure that she can still eat out. I know she’ll get frugal about her money while she is figuring out a new budget with her new income and she won’t factor in getting take-out into her budget until everything else is taken care of. Her accountant degree will definitely kick in.” 

“That’s really sweet. And I know what you mean, she’s already started cutting her own expenses on groceries. I’ve never seen her go more than a day without having coffee from the shop downstairs. It’s weird.” 

“Exactly, so do it for me, please. I just want her to be happy and cared for.”

“Fine, you are lucky that I was rooting for you guys.” 

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Let me know if you guys need anything else, okay? Nothing is too big.” 

“I know Y/N needs a trip to Cabo, but under my name.” 

He gives her a playful smile with the tilt of his head. She shrugs, “I tried. Let me know if you need any help with your plan.” Rafe nods at her offer. “I will. Thank you again,” he says, walking away from the apartment after their goodbyes. 

——

Y/N sits at her desk looking at the number on her screen. They start to merge together and she wants to bang her head against the wall. She got a job as an accountant’s assistant and she is not exactly thrilled with it, but it made the most sense because of her degree. She needed a job and she didn’t have the time to try to figure out what is the right career for her. Her boss has gone to lunch but needed her to stay behind to finish up this budget. 

The noise from the door draws her focus to Lydia, the secretary for the office. Nutmeg and parsley fill the room with its aroma. Her mouth salivates as it smells exactly like her favourite creamy mushroom gnocchi. The brown bag with a familiar logo sits in Lydia’s hand. “A delivery guy brought this over. Said it was from Juni,” she explains, placing it on her desk before exiting. Y/N grins at the bag and her hands draw together near her chest. Her shoulders sway from side to side in a little dance. She opens the bag, letting the food overwhelm her senses. With her phone in hand, she takes a selfie of herself hovering over the food and sends it to Juni with a thank you. The food hits her taste buds and she wants to melt as the creamy goodness settles in. 

——

“Sir, all of your meetings, appointments and business dinners are on your calendar. I took the liberty of decolour-coding the calendar and rearranged it in a manner that each happens in the same time frame every day. It makes more sense like that. All your meetings are arranged in the afternoon. Appointments in the mornings. And obviously the business dinners in the evening,” Ricardo debriefs, showing Rafe with his tablet what he meant. Rafe isn’t too pleased that Ricardo changed Y/N’s system, but he knows it’s because he is holding on to any piece of her he can. It isn’t Ricardo’s fault that she left. Rafe acknowledges he heard his assistant, “Okay, sounds good. Thank you. You may go back to your desk now.” 

Ricardo does as he is told and heads to his desk. The ding from Rafe’s phone immediately attracts his attention. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and opens the text from Juni. The screenshot she sent makes the clock stop spinning for just a second. The smile on Y/N’s face is enchanting and he wishes he saw the little dance he knew she did after taking the food out. He sends a thank you back and practically begs her to send him the actual photo so that he can save it to his camera roll. Once she does, he lets out a sigh of happiness. This is who he is trying to fight to get back. 

——

How do you make up for pushing your not-real girlfriend, but the girl you are totally in love with, away is not a Google search that has a lot of results. Something big and grand would scare her away. Something small and intimate doesn’t feel like enough. And there really isn’t a middle ground when it comes to gestures. He always defaults to food, so he wants to do something different from his norm. The sounds of his socked feet dragging against the hardwood floor bounce off of the walls as he paces the room. His head darts to the space over his bed and he stops. He takes in the painting he bought from Nancy. Each stroke comes together to show the emotions he felt at that moment and he knows the perfect way to prove to Y/N what he feels for her. 

——

When she opens the door, Nancy isn’t expecting to see her sister’s fake ex-boyfriend standing behind it. “What do you want?” she growls, crossing her arms. It is clear that her crush on him is gone with the way he upset Y/N. He looks at her with pleading eyes, “Hey Little Artist, I need your help. Please.” Her cheeks start to redden, but he can tell that it isn’t because of embarrassment or her small crush. 

“Why should I help you? You called my sister a gold digger. Do you know how much she is hurting right now? If anything I should be trying to figure out how to hide your body.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I hurt her and I want to tell her this too. I just need your help with how I execute this apology.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

“Little Artist, please. I love your sister so much and I can’t handle knowing that I’ve made her feel bad about herself. I just want to apologize and show her her worth again. If she tells me to get lost after I do, then I promise she will never hear or see me again. I just want her to be happy.”

Nancy looks him in the eyes and her anger lessens at what she sees. Rafe is practically in tears at the thought of what he has done. His words have really hit home for her. “Fine, I’ll help you. But you are buying me food.” 

“Wow, you really do take after your sister.” 

——

Nancy watches over his shoulder as he sketches onto the canvas. The look she makes at the outline causes him to turn towards him. “What did I do wrong?” he asks, immediately erasing the mark he just made. Her hand stops his movement, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that this is great and all, but you aren’t capturing anything deep. I don’t feel the emotion you are trying to convey right now. Just make sure when you are painting to try to bring what you are trying to say to life. But don’t worry about it for now.” He takes in her advice and keeps doing what he is told. 

The next day he starts painting. He is a lot more nervous about making the first mark than he thought he would be. “Would you stop being a big baby and just start?” Nancy complains, trying to push the paintbrush in his hand onto the canvas. His strength halts her attempt, “No, I can’t. I have to make this perfect, Little Artist. I need to show your sister how sorry I am.” “Trying to make it perfect isn’t going to work. The raw emotion you put into it is what is going to make it perfect. So turn your brain off and start,” she commands. She goes over to her own canvas to do some work. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap of fate in himself by completing the first stroke. 

——

For weeks, Juni has been sending Y/N food every single day at the office. Y/N has tried to tell her that leftovers are okay to eat for lunch, but she doesn’t appear to listen. Y/N questioned how Juni could’ve gotten the money and was met with the promise that her work has added a lunch plan for two in her contract. This doesn’t sound any bit true to Y/N, but she goes along with the lie. The headphones over her ears make her oblivious to the world around her. She opens the door to the dark apartment, grooving to the music. The routine she moves through when she gets home goes smoothly until she gets to her bedroom. 

The thin large square package leaning against her bed is not a part of that routine. She approaches the gift, looking for any indication of who sent it or how it got into her room. Her first thought is to ask Juni if she knows anything and is met with the answer to her question. You got a package this morning when you left. I brought it into your room, Sweetie. This eases her worry that someone has broken into her room. She puts her purse away and starts tearing into the wrapping paper. The painting she finds brings tears to her eyes. Years of living with Nancy means Y/N knows a little bit about painting, so she knows the technique is nowhere near perfect. Yet, the meaning it is trying to convey is clear to the woman. She can feel the emotion he felt while he painted it. There could only be one person who made this for her. 

The subject of the painting: her, specifically from a picture of her when they went to Greece. They had found a little cafe near the beach and she was completely in love with the saragli and baklava he bought her. She was too occupied enjoying the nutty and sticky pastry to notice him taking her picture. The painting isn’t a good likeness to her. Her nose is a little too close to her lips and her eyes are wider apart than in actuality, but the lighting tells her everything she needs to know. She remembers the picture vividly and knows that it isn’t accurate to the day. Instead, the light paints her in a golden light that makes her look ethereal. The love he feels for her comes across with every golden stroke on the canvas. Her anger starts to vanish. 

She doesn’t know how she knows, but she heads to the front door. Y/N opens the door to find Rafe waiting with bubble tea in his hand. “The painting was amazing. It doesn’t make up for what you said though,” she comments, moving out of the way for him to come in. He does and sets the drinks on the kitchen island, “I know. I was hoping the bubble tea would make up for the rest of it.” 

“You and I both know that’s not what I am waiting for, Boss.”

“I know… I’m sorry, Butterfly. I have never thought that you were a gold digger. I was hurting because I didn’t like seeing you with another guy.”

“Just because you are hurting, it doesn’t mean you get to hurt me.” 

“That’s true. And I want to prove to you that I don’t truly think those things. But I’m going to have to be around you for that to happen. So if you feel the same way about me as I think you do, then please let me back into your life. I missed your excited squeals about food or watching you play with Dax. He misses you too you know.” 

“I miss him too. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you.” 

He steps toward her, reaching for her hand. His fingertips graze hers before she lets his large hand envelop hers. His lips brush the shell of her ear, “I am prepared to wait for eternity to get you back.” Her eyebrows form a caterpillar as she gives him a trying look. “What if it takes an eternity and one day?” she pushes. His other arm pulls her flush against his chest by the waist, “I’d beg on my knees an eternity and a hundred days if you want.” “On your knees, huh? How about on your knees between my thighs?” Y/N whispers, lips ghosting his. She can basically feel his lips on hers. “I thought I was apologizing to you? But I’ll be on my knees between wherever you want. So, are we going to give me another chance?” 

“I think I have to think about it.” 

He chuckles at her playful tone, “Well, I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” She takes the lead and brings his lips to hers. Their lips move in tandem like a well-oiled machine. Her hands twist in his hair and he plays with the bottom of hers. This is where they are meant to be. She is who he is meant to be with. 

——

A year. A year of bliss as her official boyfriend. Although Rafe likes to count the time they spent faking dating as the start of their relationship, he knows Y/N likes the beginning of their relationship to be the day she found his painting in her room. She believes it’s more romantic that way. Now, she’s spent the last six months living in his apartment with him. He gets to wake up every day with her and go to sleep beside her every night. 

After they got together, Y/N didn’t go back to work for him and he completely understood why. She wanted to find someplace for herself in the world, which she did. Her love of food turned into an Instagram account reviewing different places around the city. It’s grown quite the following, but nothing so great that she would quit her job as an assistant accountant. Rafe insisted that he would take care of her while she pursued this passion, but ever the planner she is, she said that she wants a steady income to make some savings for herself first. Plus, accounting is a little more bearable when she can devour delicious food for money after work. 

Y/N is away at a work conference for the week and the empty house makes Rafe feel a little lonely. Dax keeps him company, but waking up the first day she is away is normally the hardest for him. Over the last six months of living together, they have grown into a well-synced routine with each other that is currently broken. Rafe would normally wake up earlier than needed so they could get ready for work together and he could drive her to her office before he gets to work himself. He tried offering to buy her a car, but she is very keen on saving up for one herself and he is not about to take away her independence. He sadly walks to the bathroom, getting ready to brush his teeth by himself. His hand reaches for the toothbrush and is met with the sound of paper rustling against his finger. He looks down to see a Post-it note on his toothbrush: I’m sorry I had to go away for work, but I love you, always, Boss. He smiles at the little note and feels his mood start to lift immediately. 

The next note he finds is in his car. The sun was in his eyes while he was getting ready to pull out of the parking spot, so he put down the sun visor, only for a small paper square to float down onto his lap. Did you know that 90% of drivers sing behind the wheel? So sing your heart out to Call Me Maybe, Boss. He loves it when she gives him random facts. He opens his phone case so he can keep it safe to put it with all the others. He’s kept every single Post-it note she has ever written for him, even the ones she wrote when she started as his assistant. 

By the third note, he guesses that the rest of the time that Y/N is away he is just going to be finding them everywhere. Ricardo walks in like he normally does every morning to give him a detailed rundown of his day. “The last thing of note is that Ms. Y/L/N has ordered me to give you this today,” Ricardo finishes, handing Rafe a blue piece of paper. He waits for Ricardo to leave before reading it. What do you call a butterfly that can fly faster than any other butterfly? A betterfly. He laughs at the horrible joke and texts her the laughing emoji. He knows she’ll know why without any context. He waits for a response and receives the kissy face emoji. 

He gets home from work and is getting ready to feed Dax when he finds the next one. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice the note sticking to the jar when he fed Dax this morning but he shrugs it off. Confusion crosses his face when he reads it though. Hi Daddy, Mommy wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be an only child soon. Love, Dax. Why in the world would Dax not be an only child soon? Is this her way of telling him she is adopting another dog? Dax whines for the food and snaps him out of his thoughts. He’ll just have to call her later to ask. 

The phone call he plans to make gets quickly forgotten and he is watching TV at the moment. However, Dax’s scratching at one of the guest bedroom doors removes Rafe from the couch. He goes upstairs to see what is going on, opening the door to see what Dax wants. The dog immediately enters the room and hops on the bed to his favourite chew toy that has somehow got in there. He heads over to take the toy into the living room so he can keep an eye on Dax. He stops at the contrast of the bright pink sticky notes against the light gray sheets. “Huh, why would mommy leave a note here? We never go in here,” he asks the occupied dog. Rafe takes a second and remembers the last time this room was used. It was the first-night Y/N had ever stayed over at his house. His hand hesitantly picks up the note and this time he isn’t met with words but a drawing.

The drawing is of a woman without a clear view of her face because her hair is blocking it. She is looking down at her round belly with her hands placed lovingly on it. Rafe’s first thought is that there is no way Y/N drew this because she can barely draw stick figures this well. Then the dots start to connect. The note before this one. The complaints that her favourite foods are repulsing her. The crying at every animal commercial. The little belly weight she gained that he just chalked up to being because he read in one article that the extra weight gained at the beginning of a new relationship means they are happy and he isn’t displeased by that fact. His happiness quickly turns to upset that she isn’t here to celebrate the news with her.

His hands clumsily fish for his phone in his pocket and he goes to dial her number. When the ringing comes from behind, he freezes all movement. He slowly turns around to see her standing with a massive grin on her face. His phone drops to the floor and he doesn’t care that a massive crack noise sounds throughout the room. He runs to her, taking her into his arms. He lifts her up from the ground and spins her in excitement. Her giggles send pure joy through him. “We are having a baby!” he exclaims, finally letting her two feet find the ground again. She takes his chin into her hand so she can look into his eyes, “We are.” 

“I can’t believe it. We have so much to do. I have to go to the store so we can repaint this room. Actually, we should hire someone to paint a mural. And we have to pick out the crib, a new dresser, a diaper gen-”

“Woah, woah, woah, Boss. Slow down a little. The baby isn’t coming for another nine months. And I thought I was supposed to be the planner.”

“You are right. I’m just really excited. I literally just found out about them and they are just the size of like a pea, but I already love them as much as I love their mommy. I can’t help it.” 

“I love you too and I can’t wait to meet them too.” 

The couple takes a moment to just look at each other in their eyes, conveying all their emotions and thoughts. The baby was not planned, but it is clear to both of them that the baby is still very much wanted. They smile at this communication and kiss each other for the first time since she got home. For once in her life, Y/N Y/L/N took a chance on love and look where she is now. She never looked back on that decision to let go of her fear of commitment because it led her to not only her first love of her life but to her second one as well. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis @drewsmusee @starkowswife @mskezza @h34rtsformilli @ijustwanttoreadlols @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @bellbottombaby @jaydaaasworld

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[that-sarcastic-writer]

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs smut #takeshi kovacs x fem reader #takeshi kovacs x f!reader #takeshi kovacs #altered carbon #joel kinnaman

[fuwushiguro]

I. NEW ME!

CHAPTER SUMMARY : after a year out of the spotlight following a traumatic event, you’re about to take your first step back into it on a popular talk show. your whole team is counting on you to be perfect; but nobody is seeking perfection more than you.

WARNINGS : 18+ only, past trauma, mental health struggles, alcohol.

WORDS : 2.3k.

notes: loosely based off ‘The Idol’ which we all know is trash but I wanted to make my own (and hopefully more entertaining) version!

               MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Are you sure about this? I know you feel like you’re gonna let everyone down if you don’t start putting yourself out there again, but—”

“Yuuji.” you interrupt him, grabbing his hand and smiling at him. There’s not a single ounce of sincerity in it. And if there’s anyone who’s going to notice, it’s Yuuji. He knows you better than you know yourself. “It’s fine, really.” you do your best to assure him.

The crushing weight of disappointing your entire team is heavy on your shoulders. As much as you’d like to run away, to hide, to cry… you stand firm.

“Alright…” he sighs, returning your insincere smile right back to you. He’s worried, of course he’s worried. But Lord knows you don’t need him putting any doubts in your mind, not now. You’re doing that enough for yourself. What you need now is positivity. Faith and belief that despite what you’ve been through, you can do this.

“Okay, two minutes to go, are you ready?” your manager, Taylor, asks you quickly. Before you can answer, there are more words spilling from her lips like it’s out of her control. “We love you, but please do not fuck this up.” she reminds you before walking away to tend to something else.

Your eyes turn glossy as your cheeks fill with air. You quickly exhale as you fan yourself, doing all you can to make sure the sudden appearance of some tears won’t roll over your lashline and ruin your makeup.

Just then, Yuuji grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to face him.

“Listen to me.” he starts. “You’ve got this.”

You’ve been locked in your bedroom with a bottle of champagne since the interview. It went well, apparently, according to your team. And yet… for some reason, you feel dead inside. The sounds of cheers and celebrations can be heard throughout the house, and all you can do is drink your champagne directly from the bottle.

“Hey… can I come in?” you hear Yuuji ask sweetly from the other side of the door. You get up, walking to unlock the door and let him in. Your smile finally finds its way back to your face when you see him holding a pizza box. “Getting a pizza through here in one piece with a house full of drunk people shoulder be a new Olympic sport.” he grins and laughs a little.

“Very impressive, Yuuji.” you agree with him, you wait for him to enter and then quickly lock the door behind him. “I don’t actually remember agreeing to a party?” you confess.

“Taylor mentioned it. And… well, you know Taylor.” he reminds you. “Everyone thought it would look good for some reason… not sure if I agree with that but they never listen to me anyway.”

“Or me.” you chuckle, taking a slice as you sit beside him on top of the bed. “I’ve been watching the interview on repeat…” you go to grab the remote, but he takes it first.

He presses play, settling comfortably against the headboard as he pulls a slice for himself. You get close to him, he’s always so warm. And when you’re always so cold, it’s nice to be with him, despite the fact it always ends up in sibling-like fights when you press your freezing feet against him to make him jump. Though it isn’t on your mind right now. You’re worn out, defeated, and you can’t believe he actually wants to watch this.

You weren’t embarrassed to watch yourself when you were alone. It was more like analysis. Seeing what you did right and what you could improve on. The pressure of being perfect is enough to drive anyone insane. But after this, after everything, you know you have no choice but to be perfect.

The sound of your voice carries through the room as you laugh with the host as you talk. Yuuji is smiling softly as he observes, like he’s proud of you.

“You’ve got a new movie coming up, right?”

“Uh… yeah! Kinda, we’re starting filming in two weeks.” you smiled, and it was genuine. You were lapping up the way that the audience cheered at each and every word you said. Whether it be sincere or out of pity, it didn’t matter. You felt truly adored after worrying no one would remember you.

“You’re working alongside some big names, I’m sure you’re excited! Tell me a little about the movie.”

“Yeah, right! I’m the lead but I’m working with Megumi Fushiguro…” you pause perfectly to allow the audience to cheer at the name drop. There are a few wolf whistles too. “We’ve worked together before; I love working with him because he’s so talented and nice. He’s always super serious on set but between takes he’s a total sweetheart.” you giggled as you reminisce on the last film you worked on together.

“I love Megumi too we’ve had him on the show a few times.” the host smiled, agreeing. “Now I do recall dating rumours for you two…” they announced and looked to the audience, earning a slew of ‘oooh’s’ and laughter. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“No comment.” you wink, “No, but seriously, I’m focused on my career right now and I know Megumi is too. We’re professionals!” you laughed.

“Alright, alright.” The host laughed too. “The movie’s called ‘Assemble’, leaves a lot to the imagination, wanna tell me more about it?”

“Sure! It’s a horror, which is new for me. I know a lot of people don’t take horrors seriously, but I’ve always wanted to be a scream queen and I’m really excited to sink my teeth into a role like this. I don’t wanna say too much; I don’t think I’m allowed.” you laughed a little more awkwardly to try and placate the host and the audience.

“A horror, wow! I wouldn’t have expected that after what you went through last year.” the host spoke so casually. And at that moment, you think everyone watching could feel the way the air knocked out of your lungs. You began to fiddle with your fingers and look down at your lap as you considered what you should say.

You had never felt so small.

Not since it happened.

“Um… y-yeah. I mean… Like I said I’ve— I’ve wanted to do a horror for a long time. And things lined up well.” you nodded. “We have a great director and script. An amazing cast who I can’t wait to work with… It’s gonna be something special. I can feel it.” you told them, and the silence lasted a beat longer than you wanted it to, you couldn’t help but continue to speak. “I don’t want what happened to define me… It’s hard to talk about even though it was a year ago. But I’m more than what happened to me. I’m not the same person anymore, but I’m looking forward to learning who the new me is.”

You sniffle, hearing yourself say that. Really hearing it. You’ve played the clip so many times but that is the first time you’ve really heard yourself. It sounds so much more gallant than it really is. Because in truth, you’d go back to the old you in a heartbeat. You’d love the option to rewind to last year and change everything that happened.

Of course Yuuji noticed you starting to cry instantly, pausing the TV and putting an arm around you.

“I know you’re still struggling… maybe you should try therapy again.” he suggests.

“Maybe,” you sniff. “I just think it’s like… survivors’ guilt?” you tell him. “And I miss my dad so much. If I could trade places—”

“Don’t do that.” he chastises you. “I wish none of it happened, b-but… it did. And you’re doing great and I’m proud of you. And I know you don’t think so, but you crushed that interview.” he assures you. You smile at him, melting into his arms.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Yuuji.”

“Yeah, you’d never find another assistant as hard-working and good looking as me. You’d be doomed.” he grins, laughing a little as he speaks. You join in, finally deciding to wipe your tears and pull yourself together. “Let’s watch something else. Something… fun.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

You wake up the next morning, alone in the bed. Yuuji has tidied the room already and he’s opening your curtains for you. He laughs as you groan, the light burning your retinas. You sit up as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Morning…” you grumble.

“Hey, I slept in my room by the way, don’t worry.” he tells you. “Everyone’s downstairs.”

“I’ve been off for a year and it wasn’t enough rest to prepare me for these hectic days again.” you sigh. “I didn’t know I had stuff to do today…”

“Uh… yeah, we’re doing a photoshoot here this afternoon. Makeup is coming in… an hour. Same with wardrobe, I think.” he tries to remember. “I left my phone in my room but I’ll go get it, Taylor wants you downstairs, like, now.” he reminds you.

You manage to pull yourself out of bed and put on a robe over the mismatched bra and panties you fell asleep wearing. The sight of you hungover and imperfect makes Taylor sigh as you come down the stairs. “You look gorgeous. Come sit.” she speaks, though you know she thinks otherwise. You slowly approach and she guides you outside to sit on the patio with her and the rest of your team.

“We want you to know how happy we are with your interview yesterday. It was perfect, really perfect.” your publicist tells you, making sure to butter you up as much as he can before moving on. “This is just the start though so we need to make sure it’s full steam ahead from now on.”

“You’re doing a shoot for Elle here this afternoon. You’ll get to show off the new place, talk a little about your recovery blah blah you know the deal.” Taylor speaks rapidly. “We just want you to know we’re all here for you for whatever you need to get through this transition back into the spotlight. It’s gonna be tough but we know you can do it.” she assures you.

“Thanks.”

“We all know perfection isn’t real, but, as close as you can get to it would be… well, perfect.” she adds. “So we’ll go over what you can and can’t discuss before the interview and—”

“Anyone order a big ass bouquet of flowers?” Yuuji shouts from inside, his voice booming through the house and out to the patio. Everyone stares as he signs for them and brings them from the front door all the way to you. He puts them down in front of you so that you can read the card.

Welcome back — love M x

You smirk as you keep the card close to your chest. Everyone is waiting with bated breath to hear who they’re from so the conversation can be over and they can get back to preparing you for this afternoon.

“I need to use the bathroom… don’t stop on my account.” you smile as you stand up. You pick up the flowers and hurry inside before anyone can object.

“Who were they from, Yuuji?” Taylor asks, which only earns him a shrug in return.

The house is full of liars on days like this. Taylor lied about you looking gorgeous just as easily as you lied about needing the bathroom. But neither of you are as good at lying as Yuuji. He knew damn well the flowers were from Megumi.

He just thinks you deserve a little time for yourself.

You don’t care that everyone can see you inside leaning against the bar in your lounge as the FaceTime dial rings and rings. There’s a real smile on your face that you cannot seem to wipe off your face as you gush over the fact he sent you flowers. The biggest bunch of flowers you’ve ever seen.

“Hey you.” he smiles, shirtless in his bed as he answers. The sharpness of his jaw and his pronounced collarbones remind you just how handsome he really is. “It’s been a little while, you okay?”

“I just got your flowers…” you tell him as you show him. “They’re stunning, thank you.”

“No problem, I saw your interview. How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m good, yeah. Getting lots of praise so I can’t complain.” you nod, leaning on the bar again. “I didn’t get you in any trouble for what I said, did I?” you wonder, he shakes his head which is a huge relief.

“It was just a joke so, no, no trouble at all. I was in London for a week, but I’m back now. I’m in a hotel.”

“Oh, really? Why aren’t you at your place?” you ask, curiously.

“I was gonna go home but I got warned there was paparazzi waiting for me, so I came here.” he explains. “I was thinking you could come over and run lines with me later.” he smirks as he gets out of bed. He’s walking, and you realise when he switches on a light he’s in the bathroom.

You can’t help but smirk, too, knowing what running lines will likely lead to.

“Um… I’m pretty busy today.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure you can make the time since we’re both professionals.” he tells you as he turns on the shower. He always finds a way to make you smile. And knowing he really watched your interview is making you grin from ear to ear.

“Well, I guess I can make some time tonight.” you reply, giggling as you see his cheeks flush a little red at your answer.

“Good. Good girl, then I’ll see you tonight.”

© 2023 fuwushiguro  

#toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #tw alcohol consumption #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut

[luffyvace]

Perona x male reader

This might be more accurate to pre time skip perona bc I’m watching impel down arc, hope you all don’t mind 💗

I just really like her and wanted to write for her since she’s underrated <3 (plus from the poll)

Idk how you and perona met or when but y’all together soo !! 🤷‍♀️

if your dumb/dense- (lol) like zoro or luffy she’s gonna go insane

she loves you..! but your just…..a bit slow..

no matter how through her instructions are you always somehow end up doing the opposite

she has to do a lot of things herself which triggers her because she considers herself a princess

she gets mad at you, but not mad like how should would to bearsy, more so a ‘you can’t do anything with out me 🤦‍♀️‘ typa mad

in fact she usually ends up helping YOU out

”I’m only doing this because I love you, you know??”

she says that while pouting all the time

but if you return the favor by helping her carry something heavy, giving her a kiss on the cheek, or just sincerely thanking her?

shes a blushing mess in denial 💝

if your smart !!

She finally has someone that gets her and is on her side!!

she makes you spend lots of time with her

picking out what outfit she should wear

watching the sunset

she does all sorts of romantic stuff with you <3

(zoro gets lost and crashes your dates 🙂)

if your on the slow side you, zoro and mihawk drive perona up a wall fr

shes the only female and her boyfriend isn’t even on her side?!🧍‍♀️

I mean you are, but it’s just not the same if you don’t get her

and if your intelligent you help her keep zoro under raps

and she makes you help defend her in arguments

LOL

perona likes to pick your outfits

dw she has a great taste in fashion, she’s very stylish

she puts you in black and your favorite color

so that you two are kinda matching

ngl she’s pretty sentimental

one moment she loves the crap out of you and the next she’s attacking you with hollows

ok I know that seems more moody or bipolar or smth but it’s just because she’s sensitive!

it’s more so that what you say affects her deeply because she loves you

so if you choose the wrong dress and you say it’s cuter than the one she was hoping you’d choose, she’s gonna think you think she’s ugly

(don’t ask me how that translates she’s overthinking it)

Your less prone to this if your average smarts or above

but again if your on the slow side, your love is gonna seem like push and pull

She makes you help her with everything, whatever she needs

and she’s kinda clingy, she always has to have you around

at least in the same room, if your not she looks for you

its not because she’s insecure or anything she just likes being in your presence

If she wants to reorganize a room? She’s instructing you and your doing the actual work

she wants the dishes done? Why didn’t you wash them??

(you make a point that she’s the one who used a crap ton trying to cook and she ends up helping you)

she’s fair for the most part though she may be a bit bossy..

perona’s love languages are quality time and physical touch

(lol physical touch is irony but anyway)

yeah I’ve pretty much been mentioning quality time throughout this whole thing

she basically just loves to be around you, doing anything with you whatever!

she doesn’t like to be bored though so you guys are gonna have to figure out fun things to do

playing hide and seek is always fun with her!

she’s really good at it but sometimes you feel like her devil fruit is cheating 😒

you’ve found her a couple times though!

she was proud of you but also kinda upset at the same time 😂

If she hears you getting close to her hiding spot she immediately moves

So it’s very rare you do win

and as a seeker she uses her hollows (sometimes zoro too, he does it begrudgingly though) to find you

she also goes through walls so yeah that helps, when she hears you she can get to you faster

If your a straw hat Kuma mighta sent you there for stealth training 😂😂

I feel if your highly intelligent you could outsmart her though, especially if you learn her way of thinking

with physical affection perona loves to cuddle, hug and give cheek kisses

NOT around zoro and mihawk though

she gets so embarrassed about it

pda does not amuse her so don’t try it

she doesn’t really like using her hollows on you but she just might

she loves to show you off despite that!

oddly enough

she constantly brags about your feats and accomplishments

she may as well be more proud than you!

Even if you haven’t done much she still prasies you

The ghost princess absolutely cherishes you!

anyway yeah she gives you a forehead kiss before you go to sleep

and she expects one back!

but wait til right before she falls asleep!

it’s more romantic that way 😍

(yes she wants it that specific way or she’s going to be pouty with you the next day)

if you don’t do it right she will ignore you

But she gives in first bc 1) she loves you too much 2) she gets bored 3) she likes your attention

she also does this thing where she holds onto your arm and floats

She secretly wants you to kabedon her

shell never tell you that..

(look it up if you don’t know what it is :P)

She reminds you of a cat when cuddling

she practically curls up into a ball on your lap

she gives you cheek kisses whenever you do her a favor or if she’s just feeling particularly happy

(for more dense m/n that’ll be if you did something smart or didn’t tick her off on accident today)

perona will also simp if you have abs/muscles

will avoid you for a bit if you catch her though

I mean she can go through walls so if your changing and she’s comes in..

OF COURSE SHE DOESN’T STAY FOR THE FULL THING SHE’S NOT A PERVERT IT’S JUST-

even if you don’t mind she doesn’t want you to catch her admiring you

she spies on you working out still, since that’s less suspicious

if you don’t have abs that’s all right

she romanticizes you anyways so no matter what you look like or what you do she absolutely adores you!

Your love life with perona is never dull!

she genuinely loves you ♡

These were a really good length! 💪 I’m getting back in my groove! 😼

I was originally not gonna do these but I’m glad I did they didn’t take very long and were fun to write! :) hope you enjoyed lovelies 💖

#anime #anime and manga #luffyvace #anime headcanons #fluff headcanons #fluff #one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #ghost princess perona #perona #perona one piece #perona x reader #perona op #one piece x male reader #one piece x you #one piece x amab reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine #thank you for voting! #masc aligned #fluffy headcanons #fluffy #one piece fluff #pre timeskip

[slashingdisneypasta]

Judge Turpin x Reader || Excerpt

Plot: The Judge finds you waiting for him in his 🛏🛏🛏 and he helps you to go to sleep ^^ xx

Warnings: Reader is horny, Judge Turpin is horny- there is no smut but there are definitely intentions 😅😅😅

You kind of liked it when the Judge would work late, because then you could pull antics like this on him- and his reaction was always truly one to see. The man loved to find you bare in his bed except for his sheets and that becoming smirk on your face; that coy grin.

Man of sophisticated desires and refined tastes that he was; he ate it up, and you knew that fact perfectly well. In fact you liked to take advantage of it, a little. Sometimes.

... Alright, as often as you could actually. Its just the way his eyes seemed to devour you when you did, and how his hands always searched all over your body for hours- more attentive then any other lover you'd had- it just drove you mad and made you ache. Left you with a sweet and satisfied fluttering sensation deep inside that made you dream about it and then come back over, and over, and over again.

It didn't hurt, neither, that his bedding was so lovely on your bare skin; soft and expensive, cool to the touch though it definitely gets hotter the later the hour. The longer he's in it with you, between your thighs.

So when the Judge finishes work this night you are already sorted, undressed and sat carefully under the covers so nothing untoward was showing just yet, eagerly awaiting the handsome older man to come to his room. When he does, looking tired and unshaven (The stubble on his face making him all the more dashing to you, though), untying his cravat from his neck with thick fingers, and he sees you- the change is immediate.

He relaxes, switching from exhausted and frustrated old gentleman ready to put a long work day behind him with a heavy nightcap and another nights restless sleep- to a hungry predator, and its clear in his dark eyes. The candle light in the room may not let you see the colour very well, every single shade there is in his eyes like you could if you were a couple in the daylight, but you can clearly see the desire he feels at seeing you waiting for him. The need he has to have you yet again. It makes you wonder what he imagines when you're not here.

Does he close his eyes and curse his own hand for not being yours? Does he wonder what you're doing to yourself all alone in bed in your home?

"... well well, Y/N, I didn't expect a... visit, from you, this evening."

Keeping the blankets held carefully over your chest with an arm folded over them, you give him a little smile. "Should I have sent word? Have a messenger tell you that I'll be waiting in the buff for you to come home and ravage me? I imagine that might have been embarrassing for you- not to mention everyone at work would have been a tad distracted."

That makes him smile himself, almost releasing a laugh at your cheek. "My dear, you do have a point. Besides,.. " Your heartbeat picks up in speed as he prowls slowly over to the bed and sits beside your legs; his hands dipping into the blankets and the mattress on either side of your hips as he leans into your face so you can feel his warm breath on your lips. His eyes flicker from your eyes alight with mischief, to your lips more then once- but forces himself to keep it together just a little bit. Even though you truly wish he wouldn't. "Its a welcome surprise... "

"Thought you might appreciate it," You mutter, your eyes unabashedly on his mouth. You cant help thinking about the places his mouth has been before... the parts of you that he has kissed, that you can still feel right now that you're in his familiar bed again- like he branded you somehow with his lips and his tongue. "... I heard you had a frustrating day,.. I wanted to help."

"That was... very... " He just brushes his lips against yours; not nearly enough to sate you, but just enough to drive you insane. Make you want to dig your fingers into his shirt and drag him in for a real kiss. "... thoughtful."

"I try."

"Hmmm... " Pulling back a few centimetres, the Judge looks down at your state, feasting his eyes on your form; the bedding wrapped around your clearly naked body. You can very clearly see how he aches to just rip it off you, but again- restrains himself.

... Agh!

"... What are you waiting for, sir?" You ask, after a moment, tilting your head down to catch his eyes once again with yours. For, you do love to have his hungry, greedy stare on you but you also need is touch. He flashes you a tiny smirk at this, one of those miniscule expressions of his that drive you insane.

"Eager are we, dove?"

With a gentle sigh at his teasing, not really frustrated with him but eager like he said, you let go of the bedding around your chest in favour of running your hands up his arms from knuckles to shoulders. The bedding stays put, but only just, and by the time your finger tips are grazing his neck - that cravat hanging loose and his perfect, crisp white collar open and making him look dangerously attractive, - , his eyes are absolutely on fire. "... well, yes- "

You barely get to admit your desires for him before his mouth is on yours, kissing the life out of you.

#Judge Turpin x Reader Excerpt #Judge Turpin x Reader #Judge Turpin #Sweeney Todd #Sweeny Todd x Reader #Excerpt

[kazemi-archive]

Everything

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

25 Days of Christmas Day 4

Request: Love Triangle: #21 "Tell them i’m not here! or that i’m dead!" "She’s hiding behind the sofa." Prompts: #36 "I got everything I wanted. My everything was you." #100 "I came back because of you" #101 "I'm not sure how long I can go on for without driving myself insane with all this love for you. Please just... just do with this confession what you will and set me free."

Word Count: 1.8k Genre: Light Angst, Fluff

A/N: For @writingbymoonlight Hi Luna!!! I hope you enjoy this <3 I randomized who would be the third in this love triangle bc I didn’t want to do the obvious answer and it ended up being Hajime </3 I also gave you a lil Bonus Prompt: #111 "I never thought I’d be so lucky, especially not in this lifetime."

“He asked you out!?” The exclamation came from my best friend and roommate as he finished pouring himself (another) glass of wine.

“Shhh!” You exclaimed, finger to your mouth like if he wasn’t quiet then the person you were talking about would hear you even though you were alone in the apartment. You tipped your glass towards the grey and black haired boy and motioned for him to fill your glass up again. “I said no.” You mumbled as you watched him pour the liquid. The choked sound that Kōtarō made was paired with a slight waver in his pour and you exclaimed out as the wine almost spilled. “Hey! Watch it—don’t waste the wine!” You grabbed the bottle from him as he stared down at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“You said no!?” You groaned and tipped your glass against your lips allowing the liquid to drain into your throat. Saccharine flavor coated your mouth and you hoped it would work its magic soon—to help you deal with what you’d done and the fallout that would be now happening thanks to your best friend. “But he’s,” Kōtarō took a quick sip and put his hands up—fingers completely spread wide for dramatic effect as he swallowed, “Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, Athletic Trainer!” He accentuated each of the words with a small shake of his hands, slightly teasing you with the way you’d announced the title given to him in the article that had been written just a month prior. You groaned as you knocked your head against the counter lightly. “He’s been after you for months now!”

“I know.” You whined, drawing out the last word. “And it’s not like he’s not attractive!” You propped your head back up and took another gulp of your wine. “It’s just—”

“Just what?” Kōtarō asked as he took another drink. “Just super attractive and respectable like you’ve mentioned multiple times.” You let out yet another groan and nodded your head lightly. “A ‘dreamboat’ I believe you called him.” You glared softly at him and he shook his head. “No you can’t look at me like that! He finally asked you out! Why no?”

“You know why, Kō…” you mumbled as you tipped your glass back again, trying to empty it.

“Still?” Kōtarō asked, features softening as he stared at you, small amounts of pity filling his gaze. “I thought that stopped in high school.”

You sighed, looking up gently. “I gave up in high school, Kō. It didn’t stop.” You looked at the almost empty glass in your hand and the back up at him. “Got another bottle?”

“I may have done something.” Kōtarō muttered as he set aside the empty third bottle, looking at his phone. “Please don’t be mad at me.” You looked at him questioningly. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked at you sheepishly. You opened your mouth to ask but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell.

“Kōtarō.” You glanced at the door and then back to him. “Who is at the door?” There was a churning in your gut telling you who was there but you were hoping it was wrong.

“He was going to get on a flight tonight!” Kōtarō whined and you widened your eyes in horror.

“No.” You whispered, shaking your head. The doorbell rang again and you jumped out of your seat. “I don’t wanna see him! Not like this!” You cried quietly as you frantically tried to find a place to hide.

“What am I supposed to tell him then?” He cried out as he glanced at the door and then back to you as you tried to scramble towards the couch.

“I don’t know!” You exclaimed, maneuvering the couch so it was just a little bit more away from the wall and dropping yourself into the crevice. “Tell them I’m not here! Or that I’m dead!" You cried before ducking down behind the furniture.

Kōtarō groaned and you could hear him shuffle towards the door to open it. “What was this text about?” The voice said. Your heart squeezed, hearing it again. There was a little skip it did inside of your chest every time you heard it. One you’d had ever since you were kids and one that you feared would never go away. “Did you mean what it said?” You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that he would leave, not needing him to see you as tipsy as you were currently. “Is she here?”

You waited with baited breath for Kōtarō to tell the visitor you weren’t here but instead- "She’s hiding behind the sofa."

“Traitor!” You whined out loudly as you hit your head against the back of the couch with a groan.

“Y/n?” The voice called and you winced, you lifted yourself up just enough to peek over the top of the couch, hoping that you were dreaming and he wasn’t actually there. Instead, you were greeted with a pair of blue eyes that were already looking into yours. “What are you doing back there?”

You could see Kōtarō dipping out the front door with a small wave and you silently cursed him. “Oh,” you laughed awkwardly, “you know Keiji, it’s the most unexpected places that are the most comfortable.” You gave him a lopsided smile, trying to keep your awkwardness at bay as you looked at him.

Keiji smiled lightly at you as he watched you scramble out of your hiding place and awkwardly stand in front of him. “Bokuto texted me something.” He said slowly, trying to gauge your reaction-which was widened eyes followed by another nervous laugh. “I, uh,” he cleared his throat as he glanced around the room quickly before letting his eyes rest on you again, “needed to know if what he said was true.”

“I don’t know what he said,” you started, heat brushing up your neck and into your face, embarrassment burning your skin, “but you know, we’ve been drinking tonight.” You glanced back to the door Kōtarō had disappeared through, begging for him to come back and save you. “He probably just got things a little mixed up. You know Kō, sometimes he-”

“Y/n, please.” Keiji’s eyes held an emotion you weren’t used to seeing in them as his voice begged. “Please stop.” He mumbled. Both of you refused to move for a moment, refused to speak. You were pretty sure that you weren’t breathing either. “I need you to tell me the truth." You could feel your world about to crash down around you, being held up on shaky stilts, ready to crack at any second. “Bokuto said that you had feelings for me.”

You swallowed hard, when he asked you straight out like that, you couldn’t lie. Never could lie to him. “Keiji, listen,” you mumbled, refusing to look directly at him, “I have feelings for you, yes.” You groaned and looked up at the ceiling, trying to not let yourself cry. You paused for a second and silence filled the room, letting your anxiety build. You sighed and rested your hands against the back of your neck for a second. “Listen, Keiji,” you sniffled as you stared above you, “I'm not sure how long I can go on for without driving myself insane with all this love for you.” You admitted, tilting your head back down to look at him. He was staring at you, lips slightly parted in what you could only assume was shock. “Please just... just do with this confession what you will and set me free." You bit your lip as you looked at him, the pressure in your chest forming small pools of water along your lashline, waiting to fall.

“Set you free?” He seemed genuinely confused as he moved towards you. “Why would you ask that of me?” He sighed. “I was supposed to be on a flight home right now. I came back because of you.”

“I-” you felt confusion wash through you as he neared you, “what?”

“Apparently,” Keiji mumbled, his eyes trained on the space between you that he was making smaller, “Bokuto was under the assumption that you stopped having feelings for me.” You swallowed hard as Keiji got closer. “Sometime back in high school.” You felt like you couldn’t breathe as he got closer, excuses you could possibly use trying to float around your head-anything to get out of this. “Actually, it was right before I had told him that I thought I had feelings for you.”

“Wait what?” You snapped your eyes back to him and let out a small laugh.

“You know, its so stupid really.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he cupped your jaw and tilted it to face him properly. “That I could’ve been with you all of this time.”

“You liked me?” You whispered in shock, your eyes flickering between his as you searched for any sign of him lying to you.

“Liked you?” He huffed and you could feel his breath across your lips. “I still like you.” You could feel his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. He lingered there, his breath tickling your skin as you could feel yours hitch. It was like each of you were waiting for the other to pull away. When it was clear that neither of you were going to, Keiji finished crossing the distance.

His lips moved easily against yours, hesitation filling both of you. Your eyes fell shut and you suddenly felt much warmer than you had been. It felt like your body was floating, a feeling of surrealness filling your head. One of his hands landed on your waist, drawing you closer. It was like a weight lifting off of you when he finally drew back lightly.

"I never thought I’d be so lucky, especially not in this lifetime." You mumbled as he pushed hair away from your face. “I never thought that you-” His lips quirked up into a smile and you couldn’t help but mentally thank Kōtarō for sending that text. And then you remembered what Keiji had said. “Did Kōtarō tell you that I didn’t like you anymore?” A sudden irritation filled your body at the fact that had Kōtarō just told you about the other’s feelings you could’ve been together a decade ago.

“I don’t mind now,” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips again, "I got everything I wanted.”

Your eyebrows pulled together slightly in confusion. “Everything?”

“Yeah.” He smiled lightly, his lips coming to brush against your again. “My everything was you. It always has been." It felt like a dream, a giddiness you would never live down. A moment to get everything you had ever wanted too. “It always will be.”

#𓇻 fics

[officeshelpdesk]

As someone who's a massive Jewish history nerd this fucking tweet drives me insane

Like yes there is a historical oppression of Jews but the way this paints this history is woefully inaccurate and clearly made by someone who has no understanding of it.

Let's go through these groups one by one

1.) The ancient Hebrews were Canaanites. There is no archeological evidence that captivity in Egypt actually happened. Instead, the story of Exodus should be looked at as a cultural myth about this idea of God being on the side of the ancient Israelites even when they're faced with insurmountable odds.

2.) It's widely argued among scholars if the Philistines actually were out to destroy the ancient kingdoms. There are two minds, one that describes that Samuel is an actual recording of historical battles; and one that argues that the Philistines were simply a nearby culture that could easily be made into some great villain.

3.) The Kingdom of Judah was a client state of the Assyrians, and despite skirmishes and rebellion, its population and power actually increased under the empire. Now if you want to point to Sennacherib specifically go for it, but the Assyrians also didn't fucking like him, and to portray the Assyrians as a group of people always out to destroy the Judeans is woefully without nuance.

4.) We will call this one fair

5.) ???? What does this mean. Not the ancient Greeks trying to destroy the Jewish people, sure we do have Antiochus trying to ban a bunch of practices, but what do we mean by the ancient Greeks being gone? I mean obviously right ancient Greek culture no longer exists in a way that matters. But, modern day Greece and modern day Israel are about as far removed from their ancient cultures as each other. If we're to say that the ancient Greeks were destroyed and lost to history, then so were the ancient Israelites. What are we arguing here?

6.) Fair!

7.) Fair!

8.) Mostly fair, I guess. Though you can of course make the argument that many Nazis actually did survive and lived on to rejoin politics and join NATO and stuff, but yeah the Nazi party did get bodied

Now before we get into the 8th one there is one other problem with this. And that is that this list is backed up by Zionist myth. The idea here is that Israel, the modern state, means Judaism, and Judaism means Israel. In order to back that up, we need to not only combine the two, but create an idea of Jewish history equalling Israel being this strong warrior state. So we're not gonna mention pogroms and persecutions in states that are Israel's modern allies, like the British. There are many places that have historically been deeply antisemitic, but that can't be brought up in this summary of history because it doesn't fit some narrative that allows Israel to be completely justified in wiping out Palestine

9.) Come on now, like seriously come on now. I find it deeply disrespectful to boil down millennia of Jewish perseverance into justification for a genocide.

But that's the problem! Is Zionists don't actually know history! They don't actually really care about any of these oppressions! They care about invading their neighbors and spreading power! The "baby's first Jewish history" they carry around and read from is just a means to that end!