#I am NOT writing all those ship names...

[teddybarebones]

I like shipping Obi-wan with basically any adult (especially male) character ever...so here is a non-exhausted list of characters I ship him with and why. (inspired by @grumpy-tooka 's post)

Quinlan Vos: They are friends with benefits, they started fooling around in their teens, and meet up whenever they are both between missions to hang out (and maybe fuck, if both their padawans are out). They are extremely loyal to each other, Quinlan lets Obi-wan help when he's drifting to the dark side, and Obi-wan trusts him to get help when he needs it.

Cody: They share something on the emotional level, two people who are always in charge of the situation, and struggle to rely on others for their personal issues. They would both put their own loyalties above their relationship with each other, and that works for them. They both hold the hope that when the war is over, they will discuss their unspoken (but known) feelings for each other.

Satine Kryze: A shared kiss here and there, oung love, two people who's loyalties to their own people would make them incompatible in the long run. They enjoy bickering, but can't last longer than a few weeks before they'd get tired of each other. There is still affection between them, but they both know that they wouldn't have worked.

Dexter Jetsetter: They fucked like once ten years ago, when they were both in a tight situation. I imagine that they happened to both be hiding from someone, and had to rely on one another to escape. The adrenaline and tension led to a quickie or something, and they became great friends. Nowadays all they do is flirt, but they are always happy to help each other out.

Jango Fett: Their tension on Kamino was CRAZY. I think there was some serious attraction between them, but neither would feel comfortable enough to actually fuck about it. They would both struggle with feeling comfortable around someone who is tied to the murder of a number of their people (some more than others).

Bail Organa: Bail and Breha have a loving and open relationship. Bail's interest in Obi-wan has lasted since they first met, and he has no shame in reminding Obi-wan that he and Breha would be delighted to share some time together (both in the bed, and out of it). They hold extreme amounts of respect for each other for their loyalty to their people and their dedication to do what is right.

Cad Bane: I think they had tension during the Rako Hardeen arc, that tense alliance between bounty hunters with trust issues is the perfect space for sexual tension. While I don't think they fucked, they definitely COULD have, and they know it.

Darth Maul: Maul's obsession with Obi-wan bleeds into all aspects of his life, including sexually. Neither of them would truly act on it. Obi-wan can see that Maul is attractive, but he is not interested in him sexually (too traumatized by his actions to think of him like that).

Asajj Ventress: Just flirting between them, their interest in each other is actually 95% platonic, they're just really weird about it. There is a decent amount of respect between them, as well as annoyance, resentment, and yearning for connection.

Kit Fisto: Sparring buddies, rare friends with benefits, very casual about it.

Alpha-17: Their time on Zygerria built a LOT of trust between them, they fucked once, and their interest in each other is now purely professional.

Cerasi + Nield: The three of them were codependant as fuck, it was more platonic than anything else, but they cuddled at night and were extremely loyal to one another.

Rex: They could bond over the headache that is Anakin, and later, over the betrayal that led to the enslavement and annihilation of their people. There is a connection there, that they would likely never act on, they are both instead consumed by guilt together.

Fox: They both hate politicians and dealing with the senate, they'd both love to be able to kill Palpatine, maybe they'd fuck about it?

Bruck Chun: The bullying could have been caused by both jealousy, AND a romantic interest. Obviously nothing ever happened about it, but Bruck had a little crush, and Obi-wan only realized later as an adult.

Hondo Ohnaka: They COULD fuck, but they mostly flirt for the fun of it, it makes everyone around them uncomfortable (and they think it's funny)

There are many MANY more ...but these are the ones I can think of off the top of my head...

[flowering-darkness]

Lorenza has SIX DIFFERENT SELFSHIPS how have I managed this

[coridallasmultipass]

Ok, guys, hear me out. Please. Just this one little thing. A small ship I present to you, and humbly ask for your consideration. If you will, please.

So, you know how people like DirkJohn (I'm people). Hear me out tho. This doesn't end here, because I also like DirkJake. (And DaveKat - DaveJohn, too, but not if Dave's with Karkat).

Well, as I'm writing a story idea just now, I thought, "Oh, wouldn't it be funny if I made this random story into Homestuck fanfiction?" And because I'm a little... you know... I rolled with it.

And now I'm faced with that dilemma. If Dirk has Jake, and Dave has Kat, who has John?

But here's a little secret. I needed a smart guy to talk numbers earlier in my notes, so I already have Lil Hal written down as a main character in this dumb idea I'm pulling out my ass heart right now.

And who do I have a Strider need for? John.

I present to you:

Lil Hal/John.

27 works on Ao3. That is not nearly enough.

[emile-hides]

Behold. Son.

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

I am prepared to be places that do not have internets

[adozentothedawn]

To rant or not to rant, that is the question.

[dilf-docs]

Call It What You Want

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving) while pedro wears the skirt™️ (welcome to another episode of the writer's barely disguised fetish), p. in v., teeny bit of angst because i malfunction if i don't bring sad vibes to the function, the worst ever attempt of comedy witnessed by human kind, they're so down bad it hurts, jealous!reader, possesive!pedro, reader speaks spanish and may or may not have direct/indirect latino blood somewhere, use of spanglish but no translations ☹️ (boo go do your homework, citizens. that's what u get for making my dieter bravo fic flop BYE), i transcripted two real interviews for this so keep those likes, reblogs and comments up in the air where i can see 'em 🪓🪓

word count: 11,706 words

side note: hello! this is me, sliding my cv to become president of the pedro pascal fics. i'm kidding, just on duty to fulfill another request 🫡 believe it or not, i envisioned something like this but for myself IJBOL we have to keep the delusional levels UP!! i hope this meets ur expectations, it was fun to write :)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Please welcome, the internet's newest darling, Y/n L/n!"

You walk into the set, cameras flashing bright and the band playing on the back. You hug Jimmy Fallon, and when he notices your body trembling he tells you everything will be alright. So did your manager before you stepped inside, but you can't help the nerves. You've never been this big before, and now it's all coming down together without letting you breath.

You take your seat and so does Jimmy.

"Hello, Y/n. This is your first time here, right?"

"Am I being too obvious?" you snort. The crowd laughs with you.

"Don't worry. It happens, especially when you're so young"

"Oh, please" you blush. "I can promise you there are kid actors who could handle this better than I am right now"

"Kid stars?" he lets out one of his famous cackles. "No need to be humble. You are great! Let's just talk about the year you've had: big breakout roles, ascend to fame, you're rocking it!" the crowd cheers, and you again turn into a flustered mess.

"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard to dimension when you've started as an extra for popular shows, to now being, you know, the main face of projects. But I could get used to it" you smile, "it's been a dream. I still can't believe it sometimes, look- I'm shaking"

The camera pans closer to the hand you're showing to Jimmy.

"Oh my God, even big stars like you get nervous"

"Big star? I wish I could feel like a constellation. I'm feeling more like a red dwarf star, baby"

The whole place bubbles in laughter. You feel better, your manager even giving you a thumbs up from behind the cameras.

"So, Y/n" Jimmy says once the laughter dies. "You just got casted in the upcoming Gladiator II movie, directed by Ridley Scott. How does it feel to be on your first big movie, alongside names like Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal?"

You try to steady your heartbeat. "First of all, I have to say, it's such an honor to work with Scott. I grew up watching his movies. Like, Thelma and Louis is definitely my go-to movie. So, like, getting paired with such a talented cast is as awesome as terrifying" you answer with a laugh.

"Talking about that, you see" he leans closer, like he'll tell a secret. "I've heard things about you and a certain future co-star of yours"

You shift your position on the couch, your ring(less) finger itching. You have to avoid breathing in relief when Jimmy pulls out a picture.

"Oh. My. God"

He stiffles a laugh. No way. Has the room's temperature suddenly gotten hotter? Why is your face burning?

"Will you tell us the story behind this?" he asks, the camera focusing on the picture in question. The audience laughs, and you pray to God this is a nightmare, because it's too much embarrasment for a human to bear.

"Okay" you clear your throat, coughing awkwardly. "For my 25th birthday, I uploaded a bunch of pictures on Instagram, including ones where I was a teenager" you begin to giggle, "So. Um, there was this one, you see, that's, me, in my childhood home's bedroom, and my fans were quick to notice the poster above my bed"

"You mean, this one?" and Jimmy points it out. You cover your face with your palms. "It's a... Narcos poster" the audience laughs as you get redder. "A Pedro Pascal's Narcos poster"

"I know" you groan. "Picture this: me 18, and while my friends had posters of their favorite bands and artists, I was so different because I had a whole ass poster of a crime drama show about the world's most famous drug dealer on my bedroom" you recall with a laugh. "It was hard to explain to my mom. I believe she thought I wanted to sign for the DEA or something. When I told her I was going to be an actress, she was so relieved! She said: Oh, well. You'll die, but of hunger! Not a bullet in your head, at least"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. You proved her wrong though!"

"I did! Don't worry, Jimmy. She's my biggest fan now" you look at a specific camera before saying, "Te amo mami!"

"I see you speak spanish. I sometimes forget" he comments. "You've got one thing in common with Pedro, it seems. Think that'll make working with him less awkward?"

"I just hope he forgives me or I'm capable of moving out of the country and changing names" you giggle. "Pedro, lo siento!"

"Well, that's Y/n L/n, everyone! Pedro Pascal's number one fan" you burst out laughing in shame. "More on her lastest movie after the break"

mandoshoney: tell me i'm not the only one who started shipping pedro pascal and y/n l/n PLEASE can't wait to get content of them interacting ㅤㅤann-gell: mandoshoney y/n's pedro pascal's controversially young gf era starts now! i wonder how the press tour for #gladiatorII will go 🤔 unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they are dating ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess ptwt can never tweet like normal ppl…wdym you're betting your grandma?!!!?

You were never a fan of secrets.

But then Pedro waltzed into your life with his charming smile and iconic mustache, and before you knew it, you had married him off in some church in California one random sunday morning ("I love you so much, can't wait to marry you, cariño" "If you can't wait any longer, why not now?")

Flash forward, four years later, and you'd think such event would be plastered all over the internet. But there is a reason why only you, family, a selected number of friends and your agents knew: you kept it a secret.

To the world, he was Chile's most elegible bachelor and you were a young rising star. The public loved both of you for the same reasons: charming persona and acting skills. Yet inside the privacy of your home, he was Pedro and you were y/n, wife and husband; he was yours as you were his.

And of course, no marriage is perfect, and your first real challenge is rather funny: you both get casted in your first movie together.

It shouldn't be hard, but it is. Being inside the Gladiator II set during seven months, so far away yet so close at the same time, was torture. You were Rome's empress and he's Marcus Acacius, yet behind the scenes, the actual married couple were you both.

It was hard to pretend you didn't know what he looked like without clothes when he wore his bathing suit, or that you didn't know his favorite food when Paul asked, or acting like you weren't interested in dating when a local in Malta during your trip at the beach asked you out (he didn't know who you were. You were flattered when he called you pretty in such a hot European accent, but then Pedro appeared from seemingly "nowhere" and you remembered what your real favorite accent was. He immediately called you bonita after that)

It was so hard to keep hands to yourself when he walked by you, covered in fake blood. To not think about licking it all over and under his armour. So was to pretend the thought of dry humping him with his Roman skirt on wasn't tempting. Or that the urge to kiss him got harder and harder to fight each passing day, even getting to a point where you would envy Connie for being able to kiss your husband in the open more, a privilege you didn't have.

You were loosing your mental health here. But Pedro was no better.

It was so hard to see you, the Moroccan sun shining over your features like you were an angel. Otherworldly. That he'd see red when you'd finish filming a scene with Joseph, forcing himself to interrupt the small chat you'd engage in after. He too couldn't keep pretending he didn't want to tear off those silk dresses out of your body, and kiss you out in the open like Joseph did.

He almost failed once, cornering you in the hallway of the hotel you were staying. His hot breath lingered on your neck. I miss you, he had said. You felt his hard brush the inner of your thigh. We can't, you whispered in a dragged out voice.

It was hard.

So you gave him your used panties, and you swear you could hear him jacking off in the bathroom of his room, next to yours. He'd screamed your name, and your hand had found it's way to your dripping cunt, doing what he was supposed to do; touching you the way he did. And you came, drowned out moans against your pillow. But it wasn't like when he did it.

But God has heard your prayers.

For the first time in weeks, you're lucky. You find Pedro sitting alone in the cafeteria, his phone in hand. He's still wearing his armour and skirt, not bothering to change for the break. You aren't God's strongest soldier, but you're trying not to go down on him so badly right here and now.

"Hey" he raises his head when he hears your voice, smile adoringly. It only grows wider when he notices you alone. "Thought you'd never get rid of Paul. He's like, stitched to you"

"Same can be said about you and Joseph" you sit across him, and despite most of his tone being playful, there are still hints of jealousy behind. It arouses you deeply, and with this hot summer day above you, your skin isn't the only thing that's getting sticky.

"In case you haven't read the script, I'm his wife" you wink. "Sorry this is how you find out"

He laughs loudly, and God, how have you missed that laugh. Sure, it's been there when you've been out with the cast together, but it doesn't tingle your chest as when you're the cause of it; it feels like it's for you only, and that's what makes it special.

"I miss you so much" he whispers, his hand sliding across the table, finding yours. His thumb carresses your soft palm, and you melt under Pedro's tender touch.

"I do too" you sigh, but it's instantly replaced by what could only be described as a smug face. You lean closer, whispering on his ear, the warm meeting cold. He shivers. "Wanna know something?"

"I'm all ears"

"I just came back from walking. Guess what?No one is 'round here" you lean back against your chair, shit-eating grin on your face as all his body tenses up. "Made sure of it. The trailer zone is empty too"

Pedro gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes look at you.

"Y/n" calling your name as a warning.

"What? Can't a girl find ways to have her husband all for herself?" you snort. "Please say yes" you let go of his hand, but the free fingers now travel across his broad chest, taunting him. "C'mon, we both deserve a break"

He can't say deny you anything, can he? You know it, he knows it.

Before you register, his big hand engulfs yours as you run across the set. You giggle at his rushed steps, even more when you stand before his trailer and he's fumbling his slippery hands with the doorknob, sloppy movements erratic.

"But you told me to stop" you tease, and he doesn't even let you add more because he's pushing you inside, forcing you with rough calloused hands to a chair and then you to sit over his lap.

"Fuck, babygirl. I've spoiled you way too much" he groans against your lips. "Lo sabes, ¿verdad? Just can't say no to you"

Your eyes darken dangerously, the hunger on them mirroring his own.

"How could you ever say no to this?"

You press your chest against his broad one as your lip bites into his lower one, teasing. Pedro feels his underwear getting tighter when your tongue finds its way inside his mouth, even getting a glimpse of the taste of the strawberries you had earlier before.

He deepens the kiss, and when you pull away to catch your breath, he doesn't waste his lonely mouth and busies himself with the task of kissing your sun-kissed neck, licking and pressing his lips under your jaw. Pedro goes even lower, down until he's reached your collarbone, making you groan a bit under his wet sloppy needy mouth. He's enjoying how putty you are under his intense kissing, fingers in his curls, that have begun to damp under the ablaze of the small space and pleasure that fills the air.

"Kiss me again in my lips" you whine after a while of him teasing you with kisses that get only rougher. "Pretty please, papi"

You cup his face in your hands, and Pedro's back to kissing you in the mouth, tasting all of your insides as he hasn't had in what feels like a lifetime.

"Of course, baby. Missed this pretty mouth" he mumbles in between hot kisses, his now growing boner pressing into you.

"Baby" you giggle. The skirt he's got on may hide it, but your fingers refused to wait, pulling it up. His bulge presses against the shorts he's got under the skirt, and you can feel your pussy and mouth drool. "We have to do something about this big boy" your hands pull down the short, leaving just his underwear on. He's about to remove the skirt, but your demanding hands stops him. "This stays"

His brown concerned eyes make you laugh, but you don't give him time to think about it, rather grinding against his erection. Pedro's breath hitches when he feels your daring movements, bucking his hips against yours.

The friction is addicting, and he captures your lips once again to make you feel what he can't with words: how fucking good this feels.

You keep moving over his aching dick. Your husband throws his head back, groaning in pleasure at the way your hips move against him, knowingly. His hands find their way to your ass under the flowy almost translucent skirt you chose to change in, gripping the rosy skin tightly, hands almost covering all of it.

"You wore this for me, right, cariño? Knew I couldn't say no" he groans, firm hands on your cheeks, the grinding meeting his hips now harsher. "Less with you walking around with this slutty skirt of yours"

You make little sounds he's obssesed with, dripping out of your filthy mouth.

"Fuck" Pedro groans after a while, "I need to have you, mami. Missed you so much" eager fingers make it to your top. He growls, deep within him―guttural, ready to pull it off as he mumbles naughty wife when he realizes you got no bra on, chastising you for a "rushed" plan that seemed planned all along, when a sound cuts through the air.

You both stop.

The sound gets clearer.

It's a knock. A knock at his door.

A knock in Pedro's trailer.

And you are inside. Both.

While you're grinding him.

With his skirt on.

(It's time to build a bomb and kill yourselves off and whoever is stading behind that door)

"Pedro!" a familiar accent calls. Peudrou. It's Paul. "Hey, man. Just wondering if you are here"

He's debating on speaking up when he sees your red face and rising-falling chest before him.

"Answer" you whisper breathlessly. He tries not to groan when he fills you slip out of the spot in his middle while also trying not to think about murdering Paul as soon as he gets out.

Aside from the order, you're unexpectedly quiet, and Pedro quirks an eyebrow at you. He knows you better―you're his wife after all, and if there's something he's aware of, is your inability to loose.

"I'm here" tone clipped and annoyed. But no footsteps backtracking are heard: the Irish man is still there.

You bite your lip, watching the skirt with his legs spread, a sight too tempting. Also, he was still hard, as hard as the task to not go and keep doing your job.

Oh, fuck this shit.

Your devilish hand equals the grin in your face, fingers making their way toward his unattended bulge.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asks, but Pedro's attention has completely deviated, now focused on how they land right over his clothed dick, skirt pulled up by your other hand. "I thought you were at the cafeteria"

"Yeah?" but it comes out strained, yet the younger man doesn't notice or comment.

His hips raise when your fingers press his member, massaging it.

"Yeah" he uses a tone that equals a duh. "You texted me yourself"

Pedro rolls his eyes, wishing desperately he would go away, annoying him just as much as a fly hovering above fresh food. Talking about food, fuck, weren't you hungry? He tried to warn you, holding your wrist, but all resolve was lost the moment you looked in his eyes: he immediately pulled down his briefs, dick sprouting hard.

"Well, changed my mind" his tone falters in between words, member now free from the confines of his tight underwear.

"Are you tired, man? You sound tired" Paul comments on his tone. "Came to rest?"

You spit on your hand, and he gulps.

"Somethin' like that"

You start to jerk him off, leaving little wet kisses and licks just above his dick. Pedro's eyes are hypnotized, glued to every lick of yours across his girth, the spit making your movements smoother. Sexier. Fuck.

"Well, sorry to break it to you but rest time is over. They want us back on set now"

Your tight needy lips are wrapped around his his length and it's so hard to keep the talk normal when he justs wants to yell at Paul to fuck off. Your hand is there too; you are as of help as much as you aren't.

"I'll be there, Paul, just―Fuck!"

But his attempt to cover a moan doesn't go unnoticed.

"Are you alright in there?" he tries to enter, but Pedro locked the door. He's yelling he's fine, but Mescal doesn't sound convinced. "I can't go inside; it's locked. Are you sure you are okay, mate?"

"Didn't want you to take a picture of me drooling on my sleep" he manages to get out in a monotone voice. A real win if you take into account you've gotten to a point where you squeeze under his cock, massaging his balls.

"Smart move!" he chuckles from outside. "I guess I'll see you there"

Pedro covers a moan with his palm as he's throwing his head back in pleasure. He can feel his orgams looming over, minstrations growing sloppier around his pulsating cock, the need to fill your greedy evil mouth with his seed making him sick. He's a simple man: he just wants his pretty wife to fuck his cock silly and come in her mouth in peace. Is that so hard to get this days?

Paul seems to be finally gone as Pedro can't keep containing his grunts anymore, steps moving: until said steps sound closer again.

"Oh, I almost forgot, have you seen Y/n? I can't find her anywhere" it's coming. His orgasm is coming in the absolute worst moment. He can feel you gagging at his hard rock cock, hitting the back of your throat now. Still, your hands don't loose their grip on his cock and skirt, determination filling that sexy little body of yours. It was rather admirable the effort you were putting in this. "Think she went to the beach? She said she loved it. God, that little rebel. Anyway, if you see her, tell her-"

He leans his head back once again, seeing stars. No one knows him like his wife, truly.

The sight of you drooling from your chin, the wet sounds of him fucking himself onto your mouth as your spit-coated fingers pump his girth, you gulping down the precum from his tip, his fingers holding your face roughly by the cheeks...

"Yes, Paul, yes!" Pedro barks, barely hiding the moan that erupts from his ribcage, thick shots of his hot cum hitting your tongue and deep of the throath. "Fuck off and let me get ready"

"Jesus, mate, chill. I'm sorry. See you there"

And Paul Mescal's hovering fly ass is finally gone.

"Poor Paul" you say as soon as you pull off his length, voice raspy as you huff for air. Pedro lovingly cleans rests of your saliva and his cum from your chin as he chuckles at how much audacity, courage and horniness could fit in such a small young body. "You've ruined the friendship"

"You think?" he licks off some as you sit on his lap again, tongue directly on your face. You feel aroused again, but time's up. "It's your fault. That and this"

He points down.

"Just as you used that pretty head of yours to think of the trouble you just made, think of an excuse for Mr. Ridley about the skirt"

at0michips: wait wdym paul is sick??? ㅤㅤl-u-n-a-m: at0michips he's died vnightx: i'm wondering who'll do now the do you even know me interview with pedro now :( i was so excited!!! hope they don't cancel it :( ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: vnightx i bet my grandma it's y/n ㅤㅤat0michips: unhing3dprincess why do u keep betting ur grandma omg 😭😭😭

"You know what I think would be fun?" Pedro comments while you wait for the interview's set to be prepared.

Tour press has finally begun. That meant you could go home for a while after the filming wrapped, just to be back for the promotion of the film. You were excited of course, the experience new and thrilling. After much needed battery recharging and husband/wife time, you were ready to take over the world.

But then Paul got sick.

Today's interview was scheduled to be him and Pedro, but since he was unavailable, they paired him with you, since you both spoke Spanish (which felt slightly racist in your opinion), and because Fred and Joseph were already paired up for the other.

You leave your coffee, knowing he's about to say something stupid or endearing, perhaps both, brown liquid probably spilling out of your mouth. Or worst, nostrils.

"Tell me"

"What if we left little hints that we're together?" his smile is one of mischief. "Like you could wear my cap, or I could wear a chain with your initial around my neck, like Ryan Gosling did at the Barbie premiere"

"Or as Taylor Swift sang" you counter. "But Pedro, dear, you're underestimating our fans. You don't think they'll match it sooner than we think?"

"Maybe" he agrees. That's just what I want. "What's funny is we're about to do a type of interview where we could blow our cover"

"Maybe" you repeat, "or maybe you don't know all about me as much as you think, Mr. Pascal"

He fake gasps, feigning hurt. "Is this a dare, Mrs. Pascal?"

"No" you try to be mature for once, cutting the banter as much as you'd like to go on and kiss him right there. "Also, remember to answer incorrectly sometimes, you know..."

"There's no way I'm letting you win though"

"Pedro, no seas necio!"

The producers arrive just in time to let you know it's ready.

"After M'lady" he's back to being charming as he is, not as husband charming but just Pedro Pascal charming. The nerve of this guy to do it in front of the LADbible crew.

"Whatever" you grumble, the nerves getting the best of you as you realize this interview may or may not give away more than you've been allowed before.

"Hello, I am Y/n L/n" you present yourself. Wow, the camera is really close. This isn't going to end well.

"And I'm Pedro Pascal"

Hearing his voice soothes you. It's okay, y/n, you got this. "And this is Do You Really Know Me- No wait, it's do you even know me. Okay, let's start again: Hello, I'm Y/n and this is-"

"I don't even know anymore" Pedro jokes, making you laugh. "Do you even know me?" he asks while looking forward, now making the crew laugh.

"This is Pedro Pascal, that'll do" you sigh.

"This is gonna be sad, she's not going to know any of these" he says, but in reality, he's mocking you, the mischief in his eyes glowing as he only looks at you tauntingly.

"Same can be said about you" you tease, "we're like a million years away"

"That's not true!" he gasps, "I watch your every move" punctuating each word. God, you try not to make a face. "I have Google alerts on you"

If he was gonna play, so were you.

"Glad to know I have you alerted" with the sweetest voice ever, seeing how his friendly façade falters for a bit at the tone you've used. You laugh, and Pedro takes the chance to laugh it off too.

After the introduction, they ask one of you to keep score, and you offer yourself because, well, you don't trust Pedro.

"I'll go first" you say. "Which was my first ever role in the industry? As an extra during an episode of Stranger Things, as a voice actor in A dog's purpose" you can't help but laugh, "or as a back-up dancer in Hustlers?"

"In Hustlers?" Pedro inquires in disbelief. "You're telling me you were in Hustlers?! I didn't even know you could dance!"

Lies. You and Pedro sometimes put some bachata and dance in the kitchen. God bless Juan Luis Guerra.

"Jennifer Lopez and I are practically besties" you answer nonchalant.

You know the answer. He does too. But he chooses the last one for comedic purposes.

"I'll go with Hustlers. Now that I'm looking at you, you do have a... dancer face"

"It's okay, you can say the forbidden word. I'll take it as a compliment" you laugh, "you're wrong, though. The answer is Stranger Things"

"No way!" and it sounds as if he genuinely didn't know. Good lying son of a bitch; Jim Carrey on Liar, Liar would've been proud.

"Yes. If you look in the background of season two, on this one episode where Nancy and Steve appear to have broken up during a halloween party, you can see me drinking from a cup on a corner"

"That's so crazy"

"Yeah, I was twenty already, yet playing a highschooler" you giggle. "Wow, time flies by. Anyway, we're both at zero. Your turn"

"What film did my dad not let me see at the cinema when I was, uh, ten years old?" Pedro reads from his card. "Rambo: first blood, The Breakfast Club, Day of The Dead"

"I'm going to base this in the year you were born. Okay, so 1975. Let's see" one of the things Pedro loves about you is that you're like a film encyclopedia, but right now, that'll cost him a point. "They all came out the same year, and they were also R rated. Hmmh, I'll choose The Breakfast Club"

Your analysis was just mindless bragging really. You knew the answer the moment he started reading the question, because the anecdote came during a time he heard you listening to the movie's soundtrack ("Did you know that my dad...")

"You complain about Paul all the time, but you're just the same" he comments. "She's a real competitor, people!"

You flush in embarrasment. "Okay, that's one for me. Next question" you read the card in your hands. "What pet do I own? An orange cat named Louis after my favorite singer, a fish, or a Shih Tzu named after my brother"

The orange cat lives with you both. You're curious as to how he'll answer.

"You aren't naming a Shih Tzu frickin' Fernando" he laughs, so loud, it ends up catching up to you and the crew. "I'll go with the cat"

"That's correct" you lament. "How would you know?"

As if the damn cat doesn't love him more than he loves you.

"I follow you on Instagram" he defends himself. Clever. "We are, um, what do you call it-"

"Oomfs"

"I'm not gonna try to pronounce your made up language. Okay, my turn. Which of these characters I've played in Saturday Night Live? Naughty daddy, protective mom, or weird uncle who has a creepy sneeze" he reads out loud in a confused tone.

This is easy. It was all over your timeline.

"Protective mom" you answer on a beat.

"This isn't fair, that was really popular!" he complains.

"It's still two for me and one for you" you mock. "Now, what is the nickname the internet has given me? I won't give you clues because it's an easy one"

"Easy? You said we were million of years apart and now I'm supposed to know?"

"Well, you seem to manage Instagram so I think you'll be just fine" you tease, and Pedro just wants to rip that smirk off of you. So he caves in first.

"It's people's princess"

"What?!" your eyes grow comically large, shimmering with betrayal as you shout with an incredulous tone. "I can't believe you know" more like can't believe you said it.

"You're royalty! How am I supposed to not know that, internet darling? Besides, told you: I keep my eye on you" and he winks.

This motherfucker. Oh, he's totally sleeping on the couch tonight.

"Talk about internet darlings" your snarky tone comes out, and Pedro knows he's pissed his competitive wife off. "I guess we have a tie. Your turn"

"What are the initials of my full name?" his brows furrow. "I forget. JBPP, JPBP, JBPP"

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite. "B, of course"

"But that's too easy, everyone with Google knows it!" but then he's leaning into your ear, whispering in a very low voice to make sure only you hear. "I'll let it pass, though. Love hearing you pronounce my name, mami"

Your face grows obscenely red. "I'm back ahead. Let's see if you can keep up. Okay, here it goes" you read the card, "what is the director I've stated I want to work with? Greta Gerwig, Pedro Almodóvar, or Quentin Tarantino"

"Pedro Almodóvar, no? You said you were jealous I had already worked with him" he playfully nudges you. Too much contact, face hot again. Maybe in group interviews you'll do better, because right now, you're doing a rather poor job at controlling yourself, even as an actor; you can already picture your agent pulling her hair behind the cameras.

"It's Greta Gerwig, actually"

"What?! No way, you told me this!" he grumbles. "This game is rigged"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous. I just think working with Greta Gerwig is peak womanhood, and I gotta live that. So, Greta, if for some reason this silly video gets to you, call me. I promise I'm not that childish"

"She is" Pedro slips in, "don't call her. So unprofessional" in a mocking exaggerated tone.

"Whatever, you sore looser. Me three, you two. Next!"

"Fine. Which of these songs would I have played at my funeral? My Heart Will Go On, Purple Rain, Nothing Compares To You"

He looks at you, silently pleading you to not answer correctly. Your competitive side screams in agony.

"I have no idea. Why do I feel you've already said it somewhere, though? I'll go with Nothing Compares To You, because the first its too corny for you and the second too epic"

He scoffs, amused at the fact that you did obey, but at what cost? Pedro's well aware his princess can get as competitive, if not worse, than Paul.

"You're saying I'm not epic enough for Purple Rain? Too bad, because that's the answer" you grunt, crossing your arms. "That's right, I am cool enough to have it played. I guess we're tied again!"

"No, you don't loose a point. It's still three to two. This just gives you the opportunity to tie"

"W-wait a minute"

"Settle down" you pat his thigh, "you can still try, handsome"

He gulps when your hand meets his skin, despite the layer of clothes. It's still something that gets him on edge, no matter the years you've known each other. And handsome? You came here for blood.

"Okay, here's your chance: what image of me became trending topic on twitter? An image of me eating a typical dish from my country, an image of me watching Deadpool and Wolverine with glasses while Hugh Jackman's shirtless scene reflects on them or C, me meeting Taylor Swift at the backstage of the Eras Tour"

"The typical dish is tempting" he muses out loud, "but I'll go with the Taylor Swift one because that sounds like something that'd trend"

"You're right" you throw your card. "I'm not complaining though. Best day of my life"

"Does this mean I'm winning?" he beams excitedly. "Oh, in your face Paul! I will finally win something!"

"Slow down, cowboy. There's still some left"

He purses his lips. "Let me have this one thing, would you? Guess not. Here it comes" he starts to read his card, "At school I competed in state competitions, in which sport? Soccer, lacrosse, swimming"

"Swimming" you answer hastily, trying not to think on Pedro wearing tight little swimsuits, as you've only seen him wearing swim trunks.

"Okay, that's dissapointing. Please continue"

"I participated in which play while I was in highschool? Hamlet, The Iliad or Much Ado About Nothing"

You doubt he remembers. The only time it ever came up, was when you visited your parent's house and a photography of you during said play was showed to him by your dad.

"The Iliad, right?" you laugh. The answer is wrong: It's Hamlet. "What? I swear it was that one! It's just you have very..." beautiful is at the tip of his tongue but he refrains himself, "...very greek features"

You can't help but laugh.

"Why of course! This is a face people go to war for"

"I agree" your heart skips a beat, "but I don't think I'll make it that far, if we talk about a war"

"You big fat liar!" you slap his arm playfully. "You've played all sort of characters, from soldiers of all nationalities and places, and like, superheroes, f*****g Joel Miller, even a DEA agent. You at least learned something!"

"Wow, slow down, this isn't a filmography recount" he jokes. Liar, you mouth to the cameras. "Okay, last one: I became a viral sensation for eating what type of sandwhich in LADbible's snack wars: BLT, PB&J, grilled cheese"

You remember the video fondly. Even your brother had sent it to you, along a text that said: Isn´t this your husband?

"PB&J, I win!" you cheer, instantly getting off the chair to do a celebratory dance. Pedro doesn't say anything, just throwing the cards away while the fondness of his eyes betrays him.

pyramiidsf: i want someone to look at me the way pedro looks at y/n mybritishstyle: guys they're just friends 😭 he's like that with all his female co-stars ㅤㅤann-gell: mybritishstyle me when i'm delusional af mandoshoney: where's that girl that's always betting her grandma??? SHE WAS RIGHTFLKRGJ

"Hello, I'm Paul Mescal. I'm here with my friends from the cast of Gladiator II" Connie and you both raise your palms to greet the camera, laughing when you realize you'd done it at the same time, "and we are going to play a game about how well we know each other for Vanity Fair" the irish man introduces the interview you're filming today.

"Did they prompt you?" Pedro speaks up, "or did you just make that up on the fly?"

You laugh a bit too loud, hoping they cut it off in the editing process.

Paul goes first, taking up a card with the first question written on it.

"Okay. Question: What's my least favorite day of the week?"

"Tuesday" answers Joseph once Paul is done reading. "Oh, you're writing it down?"

"Yeah" he answers.

"You just wrote Tuesday" Connie points out, Paul's card on his legs. You laugh along the rest.

"Yeah" he repeats laughing. "I actually, when you said Tuesday" Yeah, he said Tuesday Pedro adds on the background of laughter. "I was like...I'm gonna give everybody a point for that"

"I think I deserve a point for being observant" Connie complains.

Everyone gets a point and Paul moves towards the next question.

"What was the name of my character in Normal People?"

"Connell" both you and Joseph answer, looking at each other before squinting your eyes playfully.

"Callum" Pedro answers out loud at the same time, and you laugh. He clearly had slept when you played it for a re-watch last summer.

"No, you're out" Paul pokes Pedro next to him.

"Connel" Joseph repeats, and Fred agrees to the same answer.

Paul then asks Connie what's hers after he confirms you three.

"Connor?" she asks, confused.

"Incorrect. Three points" while pointing you three.

"You got wrong" he tells Pedro, "Callum's a different character"

"See? You just don't pay attention when you watch things" you blurt out, stopping yourself before adding the with me. It would be harder to come back from that, but so is this as everyone looks at you, even your husband, subtle panic in his eyes. Where the cameras this close? How long had you been silent?

"It's just, quick funny story" you improvise. "Pedro didn't know much about Paul's career, and as I am a fan, I took the time to show him and recommend him your stuff" Paul smiles. "Clearly, my fanatism didn't rub on Pedro but a girl can try"

He laughs, before saying "So the answer is Connell" and you try so hard to remain normal like the energy hasn't shifted.

"He only plays characters with the letter C in the name" Pedro jokes, chewing on a toothstick he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. More laughs follow, and you are so grateful for how he's handling your little metida de patada.

"What's number one on my bucket list?" he asks next, "and don't look at my answer"

The marker is the only sound to be heard, and then Pedro jokingly tries to take a peek.

"No peeking" Connie berates as Pedro laughs.

"You're not gonna be able to see that" Paul replies in an anyways tone.

You repeat the same joke, before Fred blocks you. "Not you too!"

Paul finishes after a while, Connie commenting it was long. Joseph raises his hand.

"Yes, Joseph"

"Is it to see the Great Wall of China?" he asks.

"No, but it's in that-"

"It's close, isn't it?" you interrupt.

"...family of thought" he finishes.

"It's to go and see something" Pedro points out.

"Okay. Rajasthan" tries Connie. "Go to Rajasthan, for a tour"

"Travel to South America" Paul interrupts with the correct answer, "I've never been to South America"

"I'm from South America" Pedro comments, never missing a chance to shout out his dear Chile.

Paul jokes about him getting three points while the rest of you laugh.

"I was born in South America. 17 points for Pedro"

"I want points too" you jump on the joke. "I know Spanish, so I can take you there and avoid you getting lost, mi querido amigo"

"But who was born there?" Pedro counters, "you get no points"

"I think Joseph is the only person who gets a point there" Paul adds, "because everybody just jumped on the bandwagon"

"He said to visit the Great Wall of China" Pedro protests, "which is nowhere near South America"

"It really is not" Connie agrees.

"Qué gente tan tramposa" you complain. "That's unfair. I remove my offer"

"Think about bucket list, and he came up with travel to bit" he tries to reason Joseph's point.

"And by the way, where in South America?" Pedro questions.

"Don't fight, don't fight" pleads Joseph, the calm one. Fred just sits there, enjoying the chaos.

"I want, any, I want to do a big tour of everywhere" Mescal defends himself.

Pedro doesn't back down. "'Cause it's very different"

Paul starts to get angry too. Jesus, men. Competitive men of it all.

"I know it's very different" making an annoyed face.

"Well, different is nice" you intervene, a hand placing in Pedro's left shoulder. "If you stop giving points for free, I'll come with you to the big everywhere tour"

"Alright" Paul agrees. "When's my birthday?" is the next question.

"February" all of you say.

Joseph struggles with the date first, saying seventh, then fourth. Fred tries with ninth, Pedro with eight, and then Joseph starts counting from one to two. Fred counts from eleven to twelve.

"Second" Mescal reveals. "Point to Joseph"

"Oh my God, you guys are good" Connie mentions.

"That's all my questions" and it's time to move on the next one: which happens to be your dear husband, Pedro.

"Paul is like" he brings up while the toothpick dances on his teeth, "Paul is motivated to catch up on points. He's coming for you" to pick on his competitive side as Mescal looks deep in thought.

"He's coming. He's coming" Joseph repeats as Fred laughs.

"What is my full name?"

"Oh! Pedro-" Paul tries in a blink. "Something, J? Jose? Juan?"

"Pedro Pascal, something, something" says Joseph.

"Nope"

"No?"

"Pedro Maria, Jose Maria Pascal" Paul struggles.

Pedro is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air.

"It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite.

"It indeed is!" he says, smiling a bit too much. "She gets a point"

"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" your husband repeats in a more english-friendly pronunciation, looking at the camera while toying with his toothpick.

"I said Jose, I said Jose" Paul protests.

Pedro shakes his head. "You said Jose, but then you put it-"

Connie takes Paul's side. "You did say Jose"

"But then you put it behind Pedro which eliminate- which disqualified you" he replies.

Paul gets angry. That sore looser.

"That's absolute bullshit"

"Don't worry mate, the game has just begun" you joke, making the man more irritated. "Think you can get ahead of me?"

"Joseph is still ahead, y/n" Paul counters, still irritated. "Besides, wouldn't it be cheating? You can speak Spanish!"

"So? Not like speaking a language allows you to know every person's name Paul" you mock. He just snorts, despite still being half angry. Pedro is allowed to continue, trying not to make a face at yours and Paul's banter.

"The question is, who is my favorite actor?" he reads. As the cast members laugh, he uncaps the marker with his mouth, and now you have to try not to make a face, thinking about those teeth sinking into your flesh.

Quinn raises his hand. "It's me"

"That you're my favorite actor?"

"Yeah. You said that to me once" the bald man sounds sure of it.

Paul tries to think in the background. So do you. How can you not know this? he must've brought it up at least once.

"Do you remember?" Joseph insists.

Pedro finally remembers. "I said you were- I said I thought you were special"

"Oh" he sounds rather dissapointed.

"And special can mean a lot of things" he jokes, laughing by himself. Fred laughs with you as Joseph makes a face, your laughter turning even louder when you notice Paul all moody, trying to get this point.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Paul asks, "I think we just have to shoot from the hip here guys"

"Marlon Brando?" Connie guesses.

"Is it Harrison Ford?" Fred guesses.

"Let's go with Harrison Ford just because he's my favorite actor..."

You can't believe you didn't know this. You've re-watched and watched so many Star Wars content together. He gives you a brief look, knowing you're embarrased at your lack of answer.

"As a kid?"

"He's most influent, yeah" Pedro agrees.

"What job did I have before I became a full-time actor?" is next.

"Dancer. You were a great dancer" Paul aswers. Both Fred and Joseph repeat it, adding he was specifically a go-go dancer.

"Oh, he is" you add. "Videos of you dancing are lovely. Ever thought of getting back in the bussiness?"

He laughs, what appears to be a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Sure, darling. When you ask me to dance, I'll be there"

Nobody comments on this, too busy waiting for Pedro to say yes or no to the answer they believe to be right. But he isn't saying it is. Now you remember why.

"Come on, come on, come on" Paul begs.

"Can any of you guys remember?" Pedro pleads.

They insist that he danced in Spain, then New York, then settle with Spain again, even Pedro confirming so. But it still isn't the answer written on the card, no matter how much the boys insist.

"Connie?" he tries. She just looks confused.

"The answer in the card is-"

"Waiter" you answer. "You were a waiter"

Now you have three points under your belt.

"Why do you always say the answer at last?!" Paul grumbles. "You are cheating!"

"I'm not" you laugh the accusation off. "You just can't accept I'm better"

"Si que lo eres" Pedro agrees. "Es divertido hacer que se enoje Paul"

"What did you say about me? It's not fair, you're probably sharing the answers!" he's still adamant on insisting with the supposed cheating issue, making you laugh.

Now it's Connie's turn, who starts with: "How many languages do I speak?"

You put a puzzled look.

"You speak seven, eight maybe" Joseph guesses. Pauls says she speaks french, "but most likely seven"

Pedro points his finger at him. "Once he gets going, he's on a roll"

"Joe's got it" Connie agrees.

"Paul, end this reign" Pedro jokes. He looks rather frustrated.

"And the bonus points" Connie offers. "Okay, bonus, what are they?"

"This is an emperor's reign" your husband adds.

Joseph answers: Italian. Danish. English. Swedish. French. Spanish. Norwegian.

Connie agrees she speaks Spanish, making you jump in excitement.

"Oh, I didn't know that!" you beam. "Wait, does that mean you did get what Pedro and I gossiped about you?"

"What?" Joseph asks.

"Nada" you quickly correct yourself. "Yo no dije nada"

"Not that much. I just speak a bit of Spanish. I mostly dominate my own language, German and English"

"You blew our cover!" Pedro nags, hitting your bare leg, yet its devoid of anger.

"He needs a bonus" comments Connie, surprised at Joseph.

"This is horrifying" Pedro says when Joseph gets another point and a fricking bonus on top of that. "This is a slaughter"

"Oh, for which film did I have a gym built in my garage?"

Both Joseph and Paul answer the question correctly, saying Wonder Woman. The latter is quick to state they both get that point.

"That's one for me" Paul says, then looks at you. "And none for you"

You stick out your tongue at him as Connie reads the next card.

"If I were to take this cast on a vacation where would I take you?"

"Ibiza" answers Joseph. Connie agrees in Spanish, with a cute and excited correcto.

Your husband feels the need to crack a joke at Quinn's expense.

"Somebody was paying attention to Connie Nielsen very closely during the shooting of this movie"

"Okay. What is my favorite curse word in Danish?"

"Fuck" Pedro tries.

"No"

"Nobody is going to get that, Connie" Paul bickers.

"Oh, I don't know any Danish" you lament.

"At least now you know how it feels" Mescal drops, making you snort. You playfully kick him on the ribs with your shoe.

"It's very simple" Connie gives as a clue. "It's the same word in every language"

"Shit" Paul tries.

"Satan" she reveals.

Everybody is laughing in confusion at that, saying there's no way you could use that.

"Vos Satan!" Connie curses.

Now it's Fred's turn.

"What is my weirdest on-set habit?"

"I haven't noticed you do anything weird on set" Paul tells.

"I have" Pedro interrupts.

They all get on a small briefing about what could it possibly be, that it was weird, and wasn't part of his character, as you ponder. It was funny before, but now Paul is behind you by a point. So think fast.

"Yeah. I would say being yourself" Pedro jokes, but surprisingly, it works.

"Me! Five points for Pedro" he celebrates as you all laugh. "Love Fred. Oh, Fred"

"Oh, oh, okay" he moves to the next question. "What is my favorite reality TV show?"

Joseph tries with Survivor and Paul with Alone. Truth is, you don't watch any show of said kind, only vagely hearing about Love Island.

"You and I have talked about reality TV" Pedro reveals, "It's just that we never identified one"

They keep guessing shows that sound like a foreign language to you.

"You know what's offensive? That I'm the second youngest of this cast and I have no idea what are you all talking about"

"She's not to be trusted" Pascal quips, "can't trust someone who doesn't appreciate the art of reality TV"

You huff, annoyed.

"Is it A&E stuff?" Pedro asks.

"Yeah, it's the competitive cheapskates" Fred answers. "It's people that really save money on everything"

Pedro gets the point because he mentioned the A&E bit.

"There's like this amazing guy that made a stew out of fish bones, and I just thought it was incredible" he shares. Then, moves to the next question. "What is my go-to crafty snack?"

Nobody remembers eating snacks on set, and Fred gives the clue that it's a drink. Joseph says it's a smoothie, and he does remember it but it isn't the answser.

"I'm thinking of something specific. That Emerge-C that you put in the water"

"Oh, that's very good" you agree, so does the rest, even discussing the best colors

"Who in the cast would I ask to bail me out of jail?"

Everyone even Pedro agree its him. Everyone gets a point, yet Joseph remains ahead.

It's Joseph's turn. "What is my favorite sport?"

"Skateboarding" Paul is so quick to answer, earning him two points for both being correct and time.

"What celebrity do I get mistaken for?"

"Daisy Edgar-Jones sometimes" says Mescal. Of course he had to bring her up.

"No, she gets mistaken for me" Joseph jokes. "Yeah, poor Daisy. But I'm writing it down"

"That was the two letters?" Pedro notices. Still, no one gets it.

It's fucking Justin Timberlake. You'd never guess that.

"What is my favorite film franchise?"

You've probaly named all the existing franchises to no avail. You think fo your dad, a huge geek, trying to remember if there is one missing.

"Oh- Lord of the Rings!" you both answer with Paul at the same time.

"C'mon!" his celebration is short lived when he realizes you tied to him.

"What is my favorite British slang word?"

Pedro says it can't be said, but Quinn insists they can, even adding it's his favorite one too.

"We can say bad words? We can say-?" but the camera beeps over it.

The answer is Bellend. What even is that? Joseph feigns sadness and Pedro keeps apologizing, even as you sit on the chair.

"Okay. I'm last"you wiggle your eyebrows with interest. "Let's see. Okay, first question: what did I take from the Gladiator II set?"

"You took something?" Joseph asks on disbelief.

"Why wouldn't I take something?"

"Is it like an item or memorabilia?" asks Connie.

"It's an item" you uncap the marker, scribbling down the answer.

"It's a short word" Fred points out, but still can't provide a guess.

"You took the rings home" Pedro answers. You snap your had on his way, probably obvious. "What? You told me" he says.

Of course Paul complains. "Hey, that isn't fair! He knew the answer before!"

"Well, if you payed more attention to me, you'd know it"

Lies. Pedro knows because it's sitting in the jewelry box inside your house.

"See? I do pay attention" Pedro playfully hits Mescal.

"I could pay you more attention" he looks at you.

"Alright, then do. Ready? Next question: what is my go-to movie? Oh, this is a good one. I'm always changing it, but most of the time I end up choosing the same one"

They all give you a puzzled look as you scribble.

"C'mon, guys! I've said it on interviews before too. Paul?" the man shrugs. "Thought you said you'd pay me more attention. Heads up, you're doing a terrible job so far!"

"Hey!" he protests. "It's not fair if the answer's changing. Give us a clue"

"You didn't give any clues to yours!" you giggle. "Besides, I don't want you to win"

"Hey, that's against the rules!"

"I'd say it depends on the season" Pedro speaks up. You quirk an eyebrow. "Like, if it's changing, I don't think your Christmas go-to movie is the same as your summer one"

"Actually" you smile fondly, "that is true. On summer, it's Mamma Mia. So I suppose, if you can't guess the one, that'll do"

"No" he smiles, cheeky. "I know it too"

"Yeah?" you challenge, "what is it, then?"

"It's Thelma and Louise" he answers, and your heart beats fast.

"How do you know?" Paul inquires. "Somebody was paying attention to Y/n L/n very closely during the shooting of this movie"

Ah, his joke from earlier. Joseph giggles behind him. Karma, he supposes.

"She said it on an interview, guys. C'mon, learn your sources!"

"Okay" you clear your throat. "What movie got me into acting?"

"Thelma and Louise" Joseph tries.

"No" you laugh, "you're just recycling the answer"

"Is it an old or modern movie?" Connie asks.

"Hmh, old" you pause, "just not... I don't know if you'll ever guess it"

"Is it a Pedro Almodóvar film?" you shake your head. "What? You're always mentioning him!"

Pedro looks into your eyes amid the others' discussion, and you can tell he remembers the conversation.

"There isn't one"

You smile, chest pounding at his soft tone.

"That's correct"

"A trick question?!" Paul yells. "I quit"

"When there's just one left?" you tease.

"Yes, because you've been hiding it all the time but no more" he counters, pointing both you and Pedro. You feel the space getting smaller, breaths going from even to noticeable. "You are sharing answers"

You try to make your breath of relief pass as a chuckle.

"I'm not even gonna win, relax. And drop the charges, please. Loose like a man"

"You didn't explain it though" Connie speaks. "What did Pedro mean?"

"While I have many movies that are inspiration to me, they aren't the reason I chose this path. I did it because I saw an Oscar's ceremony when I was 11" you explain fondly, feeling warm at the memories. "I still remember when they handed the award to Diablo Cody for best original screenplay. I don't know, man, it moved me. What it meant for young artists who came from nothing. I guess I wanted, one day, to be the one standing there, for other dreamers to see it's possible"

"Wow, that's beautiful" Connie says.

"Thank you" you get flustered. "Suppose it was worth it, you know, to do interviews about not really knowing my cast mates" and laugh.

"How does Pedro know, though?" Joseph asks.

"We talk a lot" you clear your throat. "Last one: what indie horror movie did I make a small appearence in? I'm feeling generous because it's the last so I'll give you a clue. It's a Stephen King adaptation"

Paul is the first to speak. "You where in a-"

"Yeah but it wasn't such a huge role. Don't make yourself any ideas"

"I have no idea" Connie surrenders. "Other clue, as in how many words?"

"It doesn't even have any words" you laugh. "You give up? It's 1922. Was an extra as well. Made me think Netflix had my name highlighted in the extra call sheet, because I did so many minor and background roles during that year. Grateful, though, because now I get to be Rome's empress and not fortune teller or highschool #6"

The interview ends, and the camera may or may have not captured the last seconds, Pedro's gaze fixated with you the entire time.

elysyannemimi: we all saw that right? GET PEDRO AND Y/N IN A ROMCOM ❗THEIR CHEMISTRY IS INSANE❗ at0michips: love paul and y/n so much 😭😭 gimme enemies to lovers RN ㅤㅤbobgirllll: at0michips wait what if paul and y/n are secretly dating 😳 ㅤㅤann-gell: bobgirllll quick question are u dumb unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they're married. it has to be. trust me ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess BESTIE U ARE BACK

You arrived in London today. The premiere will be in a few days, and things have been, well, hectic.

Lux couldn't stop talking all the plane ride, but your mind kept going back at the email your manager had sent you before you had boarded the plane.

It's catching upon you, read the haunting message. Attached below, a TMZ article that claimed a regular church attendee had seen you both getting married. It also used a lot of the noise fans had been making on social media, connecting dots or just hyping up the undeniable chemistry. It ended with a little paragraph saying it was obvios, and they're just hoping you'd confirmed it.

You came to realize you didn't care about it anymore. Sure, the pushing around annoyed you, but the thought of still keeping your marriage under wraps feels pointless now. Why wouldn't you shout to the world how in love with your husband you are?

Yet, when you arrive at the hotel, you keep the same protocol of arriving after Pedro, who has already checked in with two keys, claiming its for him and his sister, while you ask for the key to Lux's actual room. After you swipe cards with her, you head over the room you'd be sharing with your husband.

His face appears in your frame, everything happening quickly.

"Get inside. Now"

Your body is dragged inside the hotel room, not even giving you time to swipe the key for yourself.

"Pedro!" you exclaim, between surprised and confused. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Did you read it?"

"What? The article?" your tone is filled with annoyance. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he snaps, voice raising higher. "Don't play dumb with me. You know fans have fuelled the rumors, and tabloids have started digging every corner in fucking California"

"So, what? You're acting as if people finding out is the worst thing in the world" you roll your eyes.

"It is, yes!" Pedro bursts out, caving in to the stress.

It feels like you've been hit across your face.

"Excuse me?" you seethe, hurt etched all across your features. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to admit you're married to the person you supposedly love the most?"

"I love you, y/n. It's just-"

His voice softens, trying to reach for you, yet you pull back, his hand falling to his side in an akward manner. He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"I love you" he repeats, sounding much more sure this time.

Your frame seems smaller as your voice comes out hoarse, filled with emotion, appearing to be in the brink of tears:

"Then why do you act like you're embarrassed of me?"

He hates himself for making you feel this way, making you think things that aren't true.

"I don't. Never" he emphasizes. Then, tries to reach once again when you move a little bit closer to him, recognizing that's your way of letting him know you're ready. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me, don't ever think the opposite" then he sighs, heavy. "I'm just scared"

You silently ask him to explain, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his tattoo.

"You're so young, and I'm, well- I know we're aware of it, but people are cruel and the press is ruthless. I don't want to see your name dragged across the mud because you decided to marry me. Your career is starting, and I'd never forgive myself is something happened to you because of me. Not trying to make this about me, yeah? But this industry is fucked up. You've work hard to get to where you are, and it'll be unfair if you'd loose it. I'm scared because us..." he wavers, words trailing off. "I want us to be. I wouldn't want to live in a world without you, i-it would kill me not to have you be my wife"

You desperately want to kiss off the worry on his face, but let him finish.

"N-not saying our love is weak, or anything! That a couple of opinions or tabloids will- you know? Just, I-I don't want them to break us apart. Mi vida, you're the light of my life. Please, forgive me, I-"

He feels his throat closing up, words failing to come out. You sense the grip on your hand to be stronger, immediately letting loose of it.

"Hey. C'mere" your voice is tender, allowing him to bury his face in your stomach as you comb his messy curls with your fingers. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere"

He lets himself melt under your touch, his mind loosing itself in the soft of your digits and your perfume up his nostrils. He's again breathing normaly, hands now hugging your waist.

"There you go. Better?" Pedro nods, still not being able to talk. "That's okay, take all the time you need. We have all day"

"Do we?" he raises his view, his eyes soft yet there is something else to the brown shade.

You hum as to nod. "We agreed to join Lux for dinner. It's barely 1pm"

"Tell me you're thinking it too" his voice cuts throughout the air, boucing off the tapestry on the walls.

You laugh, nervously. "I don't think I do"

"Hmmh, I see" he stands up, towering over you. "You sure you don't?"

"You sure you want this?"

Before you know it, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, cutting off all words to be said. What a waste of air, anyway. You are quick to reciprocate, whimpering against his lips.

Pedro picks you up like you're as light as a feather, his arms flexing as he carries you and places you on the bed, frame hovering over yours. He breaks the kiss to breath, but you're pulling him back in, his hold on your hips tighter and the wet spot in your panties wetter.

"Look at you, pretty baby. So needy" he whispers against your face, hot breath lingering above your lips. "And mine. Mía. Only mine"

"I am, yes. Yours only. Need you so bad right now, papi" you answer in a rush. "Now shut up and fuck me"

"Con gusto" he chuckles darkly, "gotta keep the wife happy"

"Happy wife, happy life" you recite, stripping him off of his plain shirt, revealing his toned torso, bulging biceps defined by the movements. You gulp. "Fuck, papi. Gotta thank Marvel for this. I love all of your versions, but I can work with this too" you dreamily stare at him, your hands cupping his face.

He strips the rest of his clothing, but a cute blush adorns his cheeks.

"Yeah, well, it's Scott's fault too"

Your impatient fingers reach the middle of your panties to rub your clothed pussy, letting out a sound that darkens his hazel orbs.

"Fuck that guy" you mutter. Pedro laughs.

"Thought you said you loved the guy"

"Until I learned what he said about your body" you groan, still rubbing. "Connie told me"

His hands now travel to remove your clothes, almost ripping them off.

"Who cares? I just want to fuck you now" he breathes out, practically drooling at the sight of your damp panties. "Lemme take this off too"

He unhooks your bra, seeing the hard nipples. The urge to lick them is so bad, but his desire to fill you silly to the brim is stronger.

You see his hesitation, which is why you grab him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, labored breaths as he struggles to focus on your lips, his wet mouth darting to your jaw, neck and collarbones. His hands roam all over your body, needy.

"Gotta be inside of you, mami. Can't wait any longer"

"Then stop waiting" you plead, tugging at his boxers with urgency.

Seeing you so cockhungry, lips parted and pupils blown wide makes his hard dick twitch with anticipation.

He mutters a labored fuck, aligning himself to enter your sticky folds. Pedro enters your tight pussy with a low groan, burying himself deep inside of you, used to his length by now. You're basically begging for it, nails digging and eyes supplicating.

He can't deny you anything, can he?

A messy whine leaves your widened mouth as you adjust, pleasure mixed with pain.

"Mhmm" you moan.

"Mhmm what?" he mocks. "You asked for it. Now take it, cariño"

He thrusts deeper into you, watching in awe how his dick enters your pussy; it was always perfectly, your pussy made for him.

"You're drippin' baby" his rough voice caresses your cheek. He kisses the are, giving a lick to the sweat starting to form. "S'fucking tight too"

You move your hips towards him, trying to augment the friction. The overstimulation starts to cloud your sense, reducing you to a whiny mess as you grip his steady arms.

"I can't think of anything but you, baby" he confesses between grunts, "filling up your pussy to the brim, you dripping with my seed for days"

You moan at the filthy words.

"Love how you take my dick, amor" stretching you as Pedro moves in and out. "S'made for me"

"Yes" you moan, skin slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. "Fuck, I love your dick..."

His pace picks up, and it comes to a point where he's just fucking you silly, his grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise as you keep spilling obscene sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Your pussy's mine, yeah? No one else gets to have you like this"

"N-no, just you, Pedro. My h-husband" you manage to squeeze, more moans vocalizing the pleasure you felt with each thrust, his big dick inside of you moving in a a steady rhythm, making your eyes roll back further and orgasm closer.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, and he finds impossible to resist the urge anymore, licking the sensible skin and hard nipples, your hands moving to his back, scratching him harshly, both chasing your release.

"Please!" you whine out loud, not caring how desperate you sound.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

But your husband knows you, so he indeed starts to fuck you harder, heavy breaths and slippy kiss noises hanging in the spaces between each thrusts. He pants with every motion of his dick, a knot forming on his belly.

"Shit, baby. I think I'm gonna cum. Gonna come so hard"

"Do it. I'm on birth control, remember?" you groan, feeling your high approach as well. "Fill me up, please. Give me all your cum"

Your bodies move as one, precise thrusts hitting exactly that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, chasing your orgasm. For a brief moment, your eyes lock with his and then he's saying:

"I love you, y/n. So much"

Your heart skips a bit, his dick twitching inside as his gaze glimmers with adoration and possesiveness, teeth grazing your skin with marks for him to call you his.

"I love you too, Pedro. More than you know"

A final thrust is delivered. Fuck, feels so good you think you hear him say. Just like promised, he fills you with his release, shots of his thick, warm cum inside your sticky walls. You follow soon, back arching, toes curling, and both head and eyes rolling back. Pedro falls on top of you, his broad body collapsing over yours, as you both pant hard, trying to steady your pulse and breath. He then removes himself and positions you to be the one on top now, lazily throwing the covers over your bare bodies. We need to shower, you said, but he argued you'd do it later before going out.

"I needed that" and you happily hum in agreement at your husband's dragged out words.

Your head falls and rises, with the movement of his chest, silence settling on the previously filled with sex noises room. That until he speaks up:

"One day, I'm gonna fill you up so good until you have my babies, mami" he murmurs, just then realizing what he said. But you snuggle closer, hand and legs drapped over his bare body. You look at him closely, seeing nothing but certainty on his eyes.

I choose you. I'll always choose you.

"Whatever it is with you" your nose brushes his, a small sweet kiss on his lips, "I want"

His eyes shine, probably with tears or the glow of affection.

"Let's do it"

"What?" you look into his eyes for any sign of doubt, bull all you see is love. "Pedro, are you serious?"

He nods. "Wouldn't you want that?"

You feel the corner of your lips pull up.

"Never have I wanted anything more"

poppysplayground: Y/N AND PEDRO RED CARPET DEBUT AT THE LONDON PREMIER OF GLADIATOR II WTF I JUST WOKE UP ptwt is in SHAMBLES mostannoyingbillioner: UM HELLO pedro showing up with two hot women on his arms LUX GIMME A CHANCE pompeiianbollockr: WAIT WDYM THEY ARE MARRIED?!??! ALL THIS TIME?@?#? HOW???! NEED BIGGER CAPS TO SCREAM I'M GOING INSANE at0michips: that article better come out now or i'll burn the TMZ building ann-gell: not me thirsting for a married man 😭😭😭 how they kept this a secret for so long?? we should've noticed ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: ann-gell i did. knew betting my grandma was the way all along ㅤㅤpyramiidsf: i'm gonna start betting my grandma too

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @trashcora

[wolfofansbach]

BEING A LIST OF THE THIRTEEN GREATEST RIVERDALE LINES, ON THE OCCASION OF THAT SHOW'S TERMINATION

As our much loved/hated show comes to an end, I feel compelled to record, for posterity, the greatest thirteen pieces of dialogue to spring from the pens of RAS and his henchmen. It was, of course, originally a top ten list, but I simply could not exclude a few of these treasures. Without further ado: 

13. 

“I dropped out in the 4th grade, to sell drugs, to support my nana.” 

“That means you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football.” 

Spoken by: an inmate of Leopold and Loeb Juvenile Detention Center, and Archie Andrews. 

In: 3 x 2 

Yeah, okay, this one had to be on the list. It’s funny, I’ll admit. It’s a great example of the overwrought semi-sincere melodrama that helped make this show so special. It’s low on the list largely because The Normies got their hands on it, so every time I hear someone make a reference I get all “do not cite the deep magic to me, witch.” 

12. 

“No! No! What are we supposed to do now? I’m horny as heck!”

Spoken by: Archie Andrews 

In: 7 x 16

Season 7 is undeniably dreadful, and yet there are diamonds in the rough. The occasion is the failure of a projector, just as Archie and Reggie prepare to watch a pornographic film. The utter desperation with which KJ Apa delivers this line is exquisite. One is made to feel they are witnessing a genuine tragedy. 

11. 

“Tonight, they’re making an exception and debuting a cover of the song my parents claim they were listening to the night Jason and I were conceived.” 

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom. 

In: 1 x 1 

Really a fantastic line. A wonderful encapsulation of the casual absurdity of Cheryl’s character, and a foretaste of the lunacy we would plumb in later episodes and seasons. 

10. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t fit in and I don’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird.” 

Spoken by: Jughead Jones

In: 1 x 10

A genuine classic. “High school football” before “high school football.” One is never entirely sure just how sincere the line is meant to be, both on a meta-level and in-universe. A perfect illumination of Jughead’s pretentiousness. It is made all the better by the occasional cuts to Lili Reinhard’s agonized face. 

9. 

“At the last dance, multiple students were murdered.” 

Spoken by: Principal Holden Honey. 

In: 4 x 2

Delivered as an explanation to Toni and Cheryl, as to why there would be no school dance this year. Principal Honey is in fact supremely rational in the cancellation of this dance. This being Riverdale, he is of course treated as an unreasonable tyrant. 

8. 

“Bro, I know all the secrets of this universe.” 

Spoken by: Archie Andrews (evil version)

In: 6 x 5 

Spoken as evil Archie reveals his evil plan to keep the parallel universes apart. KJ Apa’s delivery once again makes this line. He is comically sinister. Strangely, he sells it. 

7. 

“A Vughead kiss, right now, in the present might be precisely what it takes to save a future Bughead from imploding.” 

Spoken by: Jughead Jones. 

In: 2 x 14

One of those lines that both makes me laugh and makes me genuinely angry. This was a fairly early season, and this may have actually been the first line to get me asking, ‘did they genuinely write and deliver that?’ Extra points for use of the atrocious ‘Vughead’ portmanteau ship name rather than ‘Jeronica.’ 

6. 

“I’m the ultimate wild card. I am the daughter of The Black Hood. The nightmare from next door. I’m training with the FBI and I’m coming for you, you psycho bitch.” 

Spoken by: Betty Cooper

In: 4 x 14 

Just delicious. Another one of those lines that leaves you somewhat unsure whether or not the writers understood how genuinely hysterical it was. “The Nightmare from Next Door” sounds like an announcer hyping up a wrestler. Spoken with a raw sincerity by Lili Reinhart. Also points for the heavy homoeroticism between Betty and Donna. 

5. 

“For I am Cheryl Blossom, Queen of the Bees.” 

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom.

In: 5 x 16. 

This one really doesn’t require any elaboration. 

4. 

“Elijah ascended…and I will, too.” 

Spoken by: Edgar Evernever.

In: 4 x 5. 

Admittedly, this one is only spectacular with context. But in context—the context being that Chad Michael Murray delivers this line while dressed like Evel Knievel and standing in a cartoon rocket right out of a Warner Bros cartoon—it becomes utterly magnificent. 

3. 

“It’s not queer baiting, it’s saving the world.” 

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge. 

In: 6 x 22. 

It’s actually hard for me to decide whether this one is funnier with or without context. Without context it’s wonderful, but it possibly becomes even funnier when you know that the context is that Veronica needs to kiss Cheryl to transfer superpowers into her body so she can turn into a Scarlet Witch knock-off and stop a magic comet summoned by Sephiroth an English wizard who is also the Devil. 

2. 

“If there’s no wedding reception, it means the Gargoyle King has won.” 

Spoken by: Kevin Keller. 

In: 3 x 12.

One of my personal favorites. This is a perfect line because like #3, it requires no real elaboration. There is absolutely no context in which it isn’t hysterical. 

1 .

“Word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance has seeped into the demimonde of mobsters and molls my father used to associate with, so the five families are sending their youngest and brightest, their ‘princes,’ as it were to, well, come court the rare Mafia Princess who can belly up to the bar with the big boys.

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge. 

In: 2 x 20. 

This is, in my opinion, the all-timer. Every word is perfect. The rapid-fire alliteration. The use of the word ‘demimonde.’ The entirely unnecessary addition of ‘as it were.’ This is borderline Dr. Seuss. The fact that Camila Mendes delivered it without cracking a smile should have won her an Emmy. No. An Oscar. This line is Riverdale. 

[hihimissamericanbi]

FAVE HP SMUT CREATORS

Ever since I got that lovely anon asking for the best smut I've ever read, it got me thinking about some of my favorite smut creators in general.

So here is a very non-exhaustive list of fan-fucking-tastic smut writers and artists I've come across in the HP fandom that weren't mentioned (shamefully) in my last batch. Feel free to add to the list! We must keep the people fed.

xoxo go take a sip of cold water girl

WRITERS

@spookymoonie

Lord Espooky came into this fandom guns a-blazing with their kink headcanon a day for Wolfstar and it has spiraled from there. They GET IT. He has a super well-organized masterlist pinned to his tumblr ft tons of different kinks, fic lengths, scenes, etc. Go. Now.

@fiveht

The definition of IYKYK. Daddy kink isn't super my thing, but Five makes me enjoy it. If you vibe with age gap daddy Remus and pretty boy Sirius, their Adore series is a must-read. They also have a stellar A/B/O Wolfstar fic plus podfic and write some Marvel too!

@greenvlvetcouch

An absolute legend in this fandom. Wolfstar, Jeggy, Rosekiller. Gritty, chewy, embodied sex.

@emeryhall

Emery writes sex the way some people breathe. Like it's just part of the narrative. It's SO punchy. And also she is the queen of Crack Smut.

@kaaaaaaarf

Patron saint of Wolfstar hatefucks. mic drop.

@cancerravenclaw

We snagged MK over to Wolfstar from the clutches of Dramione. Her series "mk's kink exposé" could also be called "celine's kink exposé." I'll just leave that there.

@wolfpants

Everything they create is magic, but they are especially known for rare pairs and Dronarry.

WRITERS AND ARTISTS

@aspiring-artist-em

The queen of Lesbian Wolfstar. Both art and fic. Also queen of humiliation and pain kink and Walburga psychological trauma. ye be warned.

@upthehillnsfw / @upthehillart

I am afraid no one is ready for this art. Truly. Tons of different ships, positions, acts. I gasp every time. And their Pansmione fic is epic (which I have talked about before).

ARTISTS

@industrations

I highly recommend getting on Indi's Patreon so you can enjoy their NSFW drawings, mostly Wolfstar and Jegulus, occasional Rosekiller. Too many iconic moments to count.

@waxingrunes

The officially-sponsored artist of Five's Adore series. Look, their work is nothing short of indulgent. Shhhh don't worry about the physics just let it happen. And by It I mean Remus' big dick hands.

@basiatlu

By beloved. The one. The only. Bosh's drawings are so ALIVE. They leap off the screen. Her Drarry is nothing less than iconic. She also dabbles in other characters/ships like Wolfstar and Blackcest. Siriusly, you can't go wrong.

DRARRY SMUT

OKAY, Drarry people. There are so so many excellent Drarry smut writers it is impossible to name them all. Here are but a tiny handful I have pulled from my bookmarks. I'm happy to rec specific fics if asked :)

@cavendishbutterfly, @bixgirl1, @l0vegl0wsinthedark, @shiftylinguini, @kbrick, @fluxweeed, @academicdisasterfic

MORE

I'm tagging those other creators from older asks because I can't put this list out there without them on it <3

@crushofdoves @we-are-swearwolves @tenthousandyearsx @theresthesnitch @lqtraintracks Quietlemonhush @cuddlebugsirius

[sansaorgana]

— DAMAGED GOODS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC

SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍

WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding

WORD COUNT — 6,610

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAMAGED GOODS

Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.

They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.

“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.

The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.

“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.

“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”

“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”

“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.

The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.

“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.

Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.

“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.

“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.

About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.

(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.

They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.

The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.

(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.

She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 

(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.

The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.

“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.

The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.

“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.

“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”

“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”

“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.

“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.

“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”

“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.

“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”

Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.

The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.

“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.

“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.

“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.

He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.

“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.

“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.

“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.

“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.

He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.

She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.

In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.

“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.

“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.

“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”

“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.

“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.

“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.

“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.

Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.

“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.

“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.

As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.

That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.

Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.

And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.

Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.

At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.

“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.

“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”

“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.

“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.

“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.

“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.

But only one of them loved her… so much.

She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.

“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.

“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.

Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.

“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”

She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.

“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.

“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.

She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.

“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.

Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.

“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”

Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.

He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.

“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.

“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.

“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.

“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.

“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.

“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.

“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.

“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.

“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.

His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.

“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.

She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.

When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.

“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.

But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.

Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 

He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.

Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.

No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.

He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.

After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.

She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.

“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.

He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.

“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.

“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”

“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.

“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”

“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.

She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.

Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.

“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.

In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 

He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.

On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”

He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.

“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.

She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.

She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.

“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.

He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.

“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.

She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.

He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.

What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.

None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.

She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.

His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.

“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.

When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.

“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.

He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.

The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.

Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.

Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.

“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”

“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.

“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”

“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.

“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.

“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.

“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”

Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.

“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”

Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.

At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.

“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.

“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”

Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.

“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”

“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.

“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”

“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”

“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”

(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.

“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.

“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.

Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.

“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.

He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.

“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.

“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.

She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.

“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.

She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:

“I am.”

MASTERLIST

[mihii-i]

Pookie come here I have the greatest oneshot request idea known to women kind

Y’a know those edits where it’s a wlw Genshin ship with their Honkai look-alikes but in one of the games they’re tragic and in the other they’re happy? Imagine that but with Arlecchino and her Harbinger reader 🤭

Like imagine Pierro asks Arlecchino for help with some weird mission or smth that involves looking into other universes and then boom she sees the most heartbreaking angsty yuri plot but it’s literally just herself and the woman she’d die for

Even better if they kill each other or smth silly like that

Comfort ending tho pretty please 🙏🏻 (not for the other Arle and reader tho PFFT- so like bittersweet I think? Idk up to you pookie)

your wish is yours to keep.

CW: sfw, female reader, heavy angst, blood, war, violence, mostly from arlecchino’s pov, wlw, harbinger reader, mentions of death, yes reader fucking dies again, tragedy, I’m very evil kitty writing this, wife for both arle and reader, arlecchino actually crying omg, arle’s real name used yk the drill, fluffy at the end, guys I love writing sfw more than nsfw is that obvious, I am not feeling freaky deaky my apologies for the nsfw likers that didn’t get much detail on my recent nsfw fics, yum yum angst, my fave thing to write is angst, not proofread.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

A/N: it’s been a WHILE since I’ve written for arlecchino and honestly I miss herrrr so I’d also like to apologize for the requests that marinated in my ask box for too long because IM SO SORRY I HAVE LIKE 40 but nevertheless I hope those who were older followers and miss my arle content get fed <3 🕯️

Peculiar.

Peculiar was the only word to describe the circumstances in which Arlecchino found herself at the foot of an unending hall, the bellowing noise of her heels hitting the polished marble lingering like a frozen demand that thumped in rhythm with her heart upon each step forward toward Pierro. Everything in the hall remained frozen over in heavy blankets of snow, clouding the area in a heaping white embrace to accompany the stings of frigid air assaulting her.

The gentle scrape of another figure’s feet descending onto the marble followed Arlecchino’s painstakingly slow pace, your own rustling coat, which matched that of the fourth harbinger’s, draped over you in a thick fluff of black fur outlining the back of your neck. Alongside the white silk falling over the rest of your body, center held together at your torso as the metal of the signature Fatui crest peeking from behind the grayish lapels of your coat.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when or why you had taken the position as the sixth harbinger, every time you attempted to recall any coronation of sorts, you could only piece together a blur of jumbled words. As if your memory had been twisted. From what you could at the very least remember, the position of the sixth harbinger had been an empty slot, waiting for a worthy member to slip into the voided imbalance of power within the Fatui.

Arlecchino’s coat shifted uncomfortably as she masked her arms adjusting into a firm front before Pierro, the gleaming crosses on her eyes fixed on the Jester in a deathly silence. Pierro’s singular visible eye bore into the harbinger with what seemed to be a weight of intense scrutiny, icy tones of blue beholding a negative energy you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Worry? Hate? Judgement?

“Ah. The Knave and her wife.” Pierro finally shattered the silence with his flattened tone, taking in a breath to ease himself as he reclined his back to the tall chair towering behind him. Resting his chin on his knuckles as blond streaks of his goatee leaned along the dark glove, he attempted to strike out his usual firm and authoritative tone, all the while maintaining some sort of professionalism in his criticism.

“Arlecchino, I thought we agreed that this task would involve you alone. Not the sixth harbinger as company.”

She furrowed her brows, biting her tongue through her closed blood red lips.

“I didn’t see why I couldn’t. She’s not too far off in the ranks. The circumstances should be suitable for her to come along with me.”

“They’re not. I can assure you that much, Knave.”

His hand that presided beneath his chin slid forward along the circular table, expression staring daggers into his two subordinates stood in a disgustingly close space. Pierro’s coat sleeve brushed along the pearly white of the stone table, biting back the exasperated sigh he so desperately wanted to heave out at the sheer foolishness of what Arlecchino thought she could get away with. She couldn’t be attached to you. Not for this.

“Listen. This mission isn’t meant for two people. Nor does it mean that you can handle it through your physical strength alone.

The Jester’s gaze snapped over to you, even through his eyepiece, that intimadation digging in to seal your airways, freeze every drop of blood coursing through your veins with his commands was nothing short of the Fatui director’s abilities. Shrinking back in compliance, you headed back into the shadowy fogs of the corridor’s entrance, tense with each step back as you could practically feel his eyes on you with every waking moment, scanning every little step you took until the gates parted into the deep cold.

Parting her lips to breathe out a sigh, Arlecchino slumped down into the cushions of the fashionably crafted seats below her, elbows resting along the rugged stone as her nails drew out a few high pitched clinks with each tap like porcelain. Her seat was directly across from Pierro’s on opposing sides, as if the gravity of the situation she remained shrouded in the dark about kept itself as a wavering reminder of fear in the depths of the unknown.

“Are you prepared, Knave?”

Despite the openly austere front he had walled up to drive you out of the hall, his words tinged with a speck of concern in regards to Arlecchino, attempting to solidify his decision in what she would see for the sake of such a simple, yet difficult mission to dive through. In fact, it was clear that although what she was tasked with was no harder than asking a toddler to go count flower petals.

Yet the seemingly effortless and straightforward task of peeping into different universes to gather a solid probability of the Fatui gaining all seven gnoses came with a mind breaking cost. One of which would freeze the stone cold Knave herself in the sights of a full new level of hell she would have to trudge through.

Pierro- no, everyone at this point was well aware of the inseparable nature of yours and Arlecchino’s relationship. Her unyielding nature barring a sturdy wall of protection that surrounded you under any condition that called for it, a rather oddly new trait that was invoked by your presence from the otherwise ‘heartless’ harbinger.

It was fairly surprising whenever Arlecchino was cooped up beside you within the comforting confines of your shared home, snuggled up with you on her chest as one or the other scanned their eyes across the thick sheets of a book, while a steaming cup of tea sat on the glass table sat in front of the sofa. Any other member would assume she had business to take care of that involved some sort of violent slash, when it reality, it was nothing but cuddling up to her wife on the couch.

No matter what, the surging depth of Arlecchino’s bond could stun even the highest of the harbingers. As such a pure, profound budding flower of love that arose from the stems of your chests was utterly impossible in the ugly nature of this mortal realm. Yet it was quite beautiful to witness, much less ponder upon, how two people’s souls were so deeply entangled within one another to where they remained true to themselves, yet attached to the other in a way to which they became complete.

Neither you, nor Arlecchino would doubt that the two of you would remain together across every universe in the endless stream of possibilities, to which a physical manifestation of your love could swim around in rather than drown in the never ending sea.

“Arlecchino. I must warn you to just..mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. All I can say is..it’s not pleasant.”

“I can handle it.”

“I’m not sure that would be true.”

She scoffed at his words, lowering her eyes as a frown crossed her features.

“Do you believe I’m weak, Jester? I’ve handled worse before.”

“It’s not that. This isn’t a matter of whether your body is strong or durable enough. In fact, it’s if your mind can handle seeing your worst fear over and over.”

He paused, resuming his words to provide information regarding her multiversal travel.

“You can’t interact with anything you see. Nor can they see you. You are merely a spectator…a ghost of sorts.”

“Hm. Does the method of transportation have something to do with Irminsul?”

“Not exactly. Although there may be a different version of Irminsul than the one you know in our Teyvat.” Pierro inhaled, pondering the most ideal way to phrase the complex plethora of information. “You’ll be sent to different universes, different..versions of Teyvat I’d say. Each one, you make a mental note of how many times we are able to successfully achieve all of the gnoses.”

She nodded firmly, her voice unwavering in low, resolute response as Pierro’s solemn look seemed to be disregarded by the absolute tone of voice she had asserted, believing herself to be fully capable of the horrors of her task. After all, she has seen many she’s cared about slip away at her fingertips on many occasions. What could possibly be worse?

You.

You could be worse.

Arlecchino didn’t want to lose you. Not for a second.

—

The world above blurred together into an unintelligible gradient of colorful patterns blended like a work of art, the beauty which Arlecchino took wonder again suddenly broken by a sharp ache spreading across every inch of her body. Shooting her eyes open, her pulse vibrated against her neck in protruding shoves against her skin, lashes fogging her vision as floods of pale sunlight sunk into her bright pupils.

Hands planted into the earth, she weakly hoisted herself up in the familiar drag of Teyvat’s soul along her palm, strands of white hair unkempt and falling over her face as she swerved her head around with caution. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Could it be possible that Pierro didn’t succeed in catching a glimpse of any other universe? However he managed to do that anyway…

Blinking her eyes open, Arlecchino finally caught a clear view of the world around her. Tranquil, basking in the serenity of a soul not in sight within the planes of nature as gentle hums of the breeze cradled the surrounding landscape. If this was what she had to investigate, then Pierro’s warning must have just been false panic stirred up to simply drive her into setting her eyes on the task at hand.

A speck of red suddenly bloomed along the once blue sky.

Then another.

What felt like mere moments plunged into the world she stood in being ripped apart in an instant, pulled forcefully open to engulf her in the now drowned out cries and screams of a war littered field, blood steeled along the blades of once swaying grass replacing the small drops of dew she had seen before. Arlecchino was no stranger to violent conflict, that was for sure. With ease, she carefully stepped through the worn down fields, scattered with the rusted steel of discarded weapons.

Her leg stretched past the limp bodies in a sickening array as to not kick the dead, mangled forms neatly laid out—as if war itself had created an artwork itself encompassing its fury. Quickly, Arlecchino had suppressed her internal disgust to keep her eyes ahead, navigating through the blinding flames swallowing Snezhnaya—likely Teyvat itself, whole.

The screams those impaled in spurts of blood trickling onto the metal to then clatter to the floor were nothing but white noise blocked out in Arlecchino’s head, no matter how gruesome the awful sight of their guts stomped on appeared to her. Pity welling up within her was nothing but weakness, a fate she could not save them from as it mattered naught to Arlecchino in the intense rampage. People die, sometimes you couldn’t save them. That was a lesson she had adhered to for years, holding back was simply the sneak of weakness that tried to leave one vulnerable, and a profession such as one in the Fatui required a ruthless front. One she couldn’t put down.

However, her fear couldn’t remain bottled up for long, as Pierro had warned her of succumbing to weakness. And as if luck had steered clear of her favor, sending a tower of bricks tumbling down onto her, she had been forced to stare helplessly at her own weakness.

“Arle..please..” you hoarsely sighed out, as dribbles of crimson spilled down your chin in a heavy downpour streaming from your chest, the sight of a gleaming scarlet scythe lodged into your body making Arlecchino freeze in horror. Her scythe.

Swallowing back the abrupt dread crawling up her spine upon spotting herself grasping the handle tightly, the black fades of her cursed hands now painted a vile red as she watched herself dig the scythe deeper. You still desperately clawed at Arlecchino’s shoulders like an anchor, fingers digging in to crease and fold the fabric of her blazer stuck to her shoulders in patches of sweat.

Arlecchino’s parallel self only gravitated closer to you in heavy breaths, taking your body in her arms as well as the scythe remained pierced across your other side, her nose digging into the warmth of your collarbone to savor your final moments in her arms.

“(Name)..? Dear? Is there one last wish you want from me?”

You nodded, hand weakly caressing the dusted lines of her cheek.

“Just..kiss me on the forehead and tell me we’ll be okay. Maybe in another universe?”

She sighed, choking back the small hiccup building in her throat as tears burned along the corners of her eyes. Her nails brushed along your nape in false contentment, as you smiled at her lips brushing along your forehead.

“Perhaps in another universe we’re fine. If circumstances were better we wouldn’t be here.”

Arlecchino’s whispers faded gradually, mixing into the howls of wind as yet another breeze that screeched in accordance with each stab of a spear through someone’s ribs. She could only kneel to the ground as she wordlessly grasped your lifeless body like a vice, breathing shaky and ragged with each moment of what she had to do replaying in her head over and over in the repeat of a broken record. It only served to rip out her heart piece by piece sadistically, the pain in your expression etched into her skull and ringing to torment her as the eternal crime of taking her own beloved’s life.

Even if she had to, she felt like shit.

Shallow breaths accompanied the subtle shivers that racked her body in rapid successions, Arlecchino’s eyes wide and hands trembling at the sight of herself hemming your lifeless body in her arms. Finally, she understood the horrors of what she had to trudge through for the sake of a simple task, the heat eating away at her sanity, drying through clothing to burn away at her skin like a manifestation of rage, sorrow, fear, everything that swirled together in her head upon seeing your corpse stained with blood.

Lightless eyes bore into her own as Arlecchino stared at the memory that would forever be seared into her like an accompanying curse, her eyes unable to look away at the way your body was laid besides a singular living lakelight lily on the field no matter how badly she wanted to. Thankfully, even as a small wash of relief for your very corpse’s peace in this god awful universe, she was grateful you were laid beside a singular living flower, away from all the fighting bellowing through the throes of battle off in the distance.

Watching as the other Arlecchino gently masked your eyelids shut, bidding you to rest as she stood up to dart back into the field, Arlecchino stepped forward to kneel beside you. Her translucent body simply ghosted through your splayed out arm, frustration boiling with her as she repeatedly attempted to hold you in her arms, before recalling Pierro’s statement that she couldn’t interact with the other universe, nor could they see her.

“What made you seek death like this my love..?”

She wept silently, that same unfeeling expression locked onto her face through the trickling salty tears staining her cheeks like that of an angel of grief. Unable to understand the motivation for you wanting her to kill uou was natural after all, the details of this universe’s memories and information was all altered in this universe’s Irminsul, yet she didn’t have the heart to check. Not after what she saw just now. She didn’t want to be plunged into an agony of truth just yet.

No matter what your reason could have been, Arlecchino would understand. It must have been painful for this other Arlecchino to come to terms with it, especially if it was in fact her with the same feelings and thoughts. Of course she had carried out every request and wish from you, so who would she be to deny this one? Especially for the greater good of your lives.

In every universe, your wish is yours to keep.

Her lingering kiss ghosted through your forehead only left an empty hole gaping in her chest through the sweltering flames she wasn’t supposed to feel, breaths shaky and jagged as she rose back to her feet to make her way through to any Fatui establishment left intact.

They failed here. The gnoses were not obtained.

—

“In 23 out of 47 universes, we succeed.”

“Understood. Meaning we have nothing short of a decent chance here. Thank you for your cooperation, Knave.”

She huffed out of acknowledgment, sweat pooling up along the corner of her head as she hid her shaky hands in her coat. Pierro, who had taken notice of this, didn’t make it a priority to pry further, pitying the woman who had underwent a flurry of emotions based on varying outcomes from various universes. He had decided to give her some space as he had warned her, dipping his head in acknowledgment of her success.

“You’re dismissed now.”

Arlecchino delivered a brisk nod, yet her swift energy in the nod remained contradictory to her being drained from the inside, everything she had seen of you two opening a pit of despair dropped at her stomach.

Her already soulless eyes beheld an overwhelming tempest of agony, the abrupt cold air batting along her cheek leaving her unfazed as she stared down at the thick snow bundled below her feet, imprints left with each hollow step she crunched into the white blanket over Snezhnaya. The cold’s sting was but a pinch now, passing the pain she had underwent in her own personal hell, no pain could compare to seeing the woman she loved, the woman she’d die for happy in one moment, and dead in the blink of an eye.

By the time she had reached the hotel room that was accommodated for both Arlecchino and you—courtesy of the Jester for your stay in Snezhnaya for the the mission, she only scanned along the patterns of the wooden door in search of something she wasn’t even sure of, blinking rapidly as her draining exhaustion crept up on her. You opened the door to greet your shell of a wife, staring aimlessly at the floor to your concern.

You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles lined beneath her eyes, complimenting her faded lipstick in small tones of pink to accompany the once deep red. Her hair was messed over from her usual well combed style as the thin ponytail behind her draped loose to the bottom, slightly exposing more stray strands peeking out from behind her neck.

“Uh- Arle are you-? Woah!”

Arlecchino’s uncharacteristic hug had thrown you off guard, eyes wide as the other harbinger’s arms pulled you to her in a tidal wave like embrace, nose digging into the crook of your neck.

“I missed you.”

“I- uh- missed you too! But what’s with the sudden hug, dear?”

“Nothing.”

It took quite a bit of strength to pry the stronger woman off of you, grasping her shoulders as you stared back at her signature deadpan expression, now fresh with tear cracks running down her cheeks.

“Wait, Arle..are you crying?”

“I am not.”

“I can literally see a few tears on that dead face of yours!”

“Allergies.”

“Peruere it’s fucking winter in Snezhnaya!”

You sighed, taking her hand as you shut the door behind you in a prolonged creaking noise as you beckoned her to sit on the couch beside you. Complying, the woman merely took her seat in silence, not so much as a hum elicited from her as the only audible noise in the deafening silence was the clock ticking, alongside her deep, drawn out breaths. Carefully, you pushed a small porcelain cup atop a gold rimmed plate on the table in her direction, the small squeak as the fine material scraped along the glass not being enough to cut through the silence.

“Er..I made you tea earlier for when you came back but it’s cold now..sorry.”

Arlecchino took the handle between her thumb and pointer finger, eyeing her reflection rippling in the clear, golden brown waves of the cool cup. She parted her lips in a quiet exhale, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth before sipping the cold tea.

“I love you, (Name). In every universe.”

Your gaze softened as you took the cup from her hands to replace with your own, touch feather light as your thumb circled the callouses of Arlecchino’s palm as they brushed along your own. The reminder of both of your professions as harbingers together.

“Arle..you don’t have to tell me what happened, but whatever did, I promise I’m not going anywhere. I love you forever and ever, okay?”

A wordless nod was all that was delivered from the white haired woman, the cross in her eyes blinding out of sight the further her eyelids dropped as she inclined to the tender embrace of her lover’s arms. Head dropping atop your chest, she pressed her cheek flush to the fabric of your clothing as close as possible, attempting to catch every little heartbeat and breath earned from the silence of her listening in.

She would protect you with all she had.

Anything to give this universe’s version of herself and the woman she adored a life of everything she could desire, one that spanned across every other multiverse that rooted and acknowledged the depth of your bond together.

A/N: OKAY OKAY first half was decent, middle was kinda trash but the third part of the fic ate so id like to say im seldom proud of this fic I’ve crafted anyway Arle fans eat well I missed feeding you guys and I haven’t written her in so long omg

Also uhhhh I kinda sorta haven’t played genshin in a really long time IM SORRY NATLAN WAS BOOTYCHEEKS I COULDNT BRINF MYSWLF TO PLAY IT HOLY SHIT I miss Fontaine but yeah this was fun to dooo <33

[scarletttries]

Write A Kiss Request: Roronoa Zoro (One Piece) x Reader ...a kiss out of habit

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss for Roronoa Zoro out of habit

You and Zoro had never meant to keep this a secret. It wasn't something you were trying to hide, or to stop the crew from ever knowing. You were both just very private people, and always the last two left at the end of the night as the rest crew all went their separate ways.

You, as much as anyone, could appreciate Zoro's desire to stay in whatever bar you were docked beside until the place was closed and the owner had to politely ask you to leave through muffled yawns. You loved the Going Merry, and all the people that lived aboard, but when you spent so much time at sea you grew to savour every minute spent on dry land in a change of scenery with someone other than Sanji fetching you whatever the local drink of the region was. You knew Zoro did too, the slight variety that a change of scenery provided gave him more joy than he would admit to anyone but you.

So you formed a little routine. The two of you would stay out until all the local places had closed, and then you'd walk the long way back to the ship, exchanging stories and admiring whatever little details you could find to ground yourselves in each quaint town. You couldn't remember exactly which island had the intricately cobbled streets that almost knocked you off your feet, but after that you and Zoro never left a bar without your hand safely enclosed in his. You were sure the night breeze was comfortingly warm the first time you noticed just how many glances Zoro threw your way as you walked, gaze flickering between your entangled hands and your moonlit lips. And you would never forget the first time that instead of the long goodbye outside your cabin door that you had grown accustomed to, he had just leant forward and placed his lips on yours. He only kissed you for a split second before he withdrew, testing the waters neither of you could bring yourselves to acknowledge, relieved when you plunged back in and dragged his lips back onto yours, fingers combing through his short spiked hair.

Without ever putting a name to your bond, you two fell into an effortless routine of those sweet good night embraces while the rest of your crew slept. It became such a fundamental part of your life that in the nights you spent at sea Zoro would still find his way to your door when the sky grew dark, neither of you able to pass a restful night without that shared moment of desperate need. His strong hands firmly holding onto you as if you could drift away, his touch-starved soul aching for you in every moment you spent apart. Zoro prayed every night as he finally tasted your loving kiss that the sensation would fill his dreams, and give him strength enough to make it to another sunset before he could kiss you again.

***

After a particularly tireless battle one evening, the crew had gathered on the deck of the Going Merry to toast to the island they had just visited with a case of wine gifted by some very grateful locals. It had been too long since the whole crew had passed a night of merriment together, Luffy and Usopp dramatically retelling the best moments of their adventures while Nami laughed on and Sanji kept everyone's glasses topped up to the brim. You and Zoro settled side by side on the makeshift benches Luffy had quickly hobbled together for the occasion, exchanging warm smiles every time your heroics of the day were recalled by the two quarreling captains. It wasn't long until you felt the flush of wine in your cheeks, and a heaviness growing in your eyelids that was getting harder to fight back.

"You look as exhausted as I am!" Nami laughed out through a yawn, Luffy bursting into laughter as you immediately followed with a yawn of your own. Your friend and navigator rose to her feet, circling to stand behind you and resting one hand on your shoulder as she said more quietly, "I think it's time we both headed to bed."

You nodded at her suggestion, suddenly feeling the ache of exhaustion spreading through your bones now that it had been pointed out.

"Great party crew! But now I must say good night." You declared dramatically, stifling another yawn that set Nami off again. Before you rose to your feet you turned to face the swordsman nestled beside you, who quickly leant forward to capture your lips in a soft and sweet good night kiss. It was just a momentary embrace, a habit that had grown necessary to both of your nights, and with that you stood up and followed Nami towards the cabins. A moment of still hung over the night as the two of you stepped through the first door separating you from the others just as Sanji and Usopp cried out in unison,

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

"Nami, did I just kiss Zoro in front of everyone?" You asked without daring to glance her way.

"Yup!" She chirped back without an ounce of shock in her voice, a far cry to the chorus of voices calling out behind you.

"Why aren't you surprised, Nami?"

"Because I've walked past you two kissing half a dozen times. Sometimes I like to make tea at night when Sanji's not around to pester me, and you two have absolutely no sense of your surroundings whenever you're together." She shrugged nonchalantly, unlocking the door across from yours.

"I'd say we won't make a habit of it.." You started your sentiment alone before Nami joined, "but it's too late for that."

If you enjoyed this please send in my Roronoa Zoro requests and check out my one piece masterlist!

[bunny-jpeg]

hi love, may i have some sourdough bread and coffee with max (in a sort of twisted, claiming my rival as mine way). thank you so much and more power to your bakery 💚

bakery menu

feel free to submit your own order! i am happily working away at the bakery! clockin' in those hours!! this prompt made me shove all other projects to the side. you literally picked at two of my faves, haha. like YEAH!! so i hope you love this, this was a pleasure to write (now back to my other projects)!

sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, driver!reader, filth (!!!), smoking, baby trapping, missionary

you sighed and looked over your shoulder, the cigarette still between your fingers, "are you going to keep staring, verstappen or are you going to come over here?"

he uncrossed his arms and went over. he plucked the cigarette out from your fingers and took a drag, "girls like you shouldn't smoke. not very feminine."

you took the cigarette back and looked at him, "oh maxie, if you wanted a girly girl, you watched the ship sail years ago. i used to punch your bullies."

he sighed. you were right. childhood friends to rivals on the track with a dash of friends with benefits or whatever label of the month you chose to define your relationship.

max knew one thing. he wanted to mark you inside and out. he wanted to make sure that you were his. to call what he felt for you love was to call an inferno a spark. as he watched you smoke, he thought about putting his lips on your neck. he wanted to dig his blunt teeth into your throat and watch it bloom purple.

he also wanted to fuck you over the balcony, letting whoever down below know exactly where you belonged. under him. he hated you ferrari as much as he hated you in alpine only two years earlier. he always thought you belonged with red bull, not as a driver, but as a wag.

lately something else had been curling inside of him like a snake about to strike. the rattle of its tail warning his brain that this was what got him going. you. pregnant. with his kid.

end your name's legacy on the track and replace it with his. make sure that your name doesn't end up on the track for a good while, while verstappen survives, if not thrives for a long time to come. if you can't beat a rival on the track, get 'em pregnant!

you stamped out your cigarette of the cement ledge of the balcony before you dropped the butt to the ground. you looked at max, "you're staring at me like i'm a four course meal. can't find someone to get your dick went tonight?"

he had been lying for some time about getting sex elsewhere. it was impossible to sleep with other women when he was thinking about you. he even tried to find women that looked like you but it never cut it.

he snaked an arm around you middle and press his nose into your hairline, "it's been a while since we.. got together. don't you think?"

you looked at him and smiled a little, "are you asking me for sex, mister verstappen?" you chuckled, "i think that breaks several rules." you made a face.

he looked around briefly before he pulled you in for a firm kiss. when he pulled away and said, "if no one knows, is it really rule breaking?" he knew you could never say no to him, so after qualifier when he found a key card to your hotel room in his driver's room, he knew that had scored.

the sex between you two was passionate. it was never a dull moment. when he let himself into your hotel room like he owned the place, you were naked drying off after a shower.

"you dog." you said as you dropped the towel and headed towards the bedroom portion of the hotel room. max followed behind like a happy little mutt with his cock straining in his jeans.

he began to undress when you got up onto the bed. he watched you sitting at the edge while he took his belt off and jeans. you admired his toned figure. he wasn't ugly.

you had seen every phase of max, you two have known each other for far too long. that added to the rush of it all. it would make sense to anyone on the outside that you two would end up together and have like five kids. but instead the games you played were wicked.

once he was naked, he got on top of you. his impressively sized cock rubbed against your sweet pussy. he could feel the wetness against his achy tip.

"i'm going to breed you." he said softly, his blue eyes bore into yours as he made sure to tighten your legs around him.

you chuckled, "yeah right, verstappen. i think your swimmers died like a million years ago from all the racing." you held onto the pillow under your head. your legs wrapped around him tightly.

he laughed, "fine, fine. i'm joking. i think you're right." he was playing it off cool as if he didn't feel like he was going to jump out his bones at the prospect of getting you stuffed fat with his cum.

you laughed, "you and your dirty talk, verstappen. you always talk about wifing me up and me having your children. like i'm going to retire from racing." you tensed up for a moment when he eventually sank his cock into your soaked pussy.

he fit like a glove, that was how he knew. it was like he molded your pussy for him. no other man could have you and he was going to make sure of that. when he was done with you, you'd be at least five percent dutch.

that'll give you enough to give your hefty sons nice, strong names. legacy names for the track. he rutted against you, heavy, strong strokes. his cock nudged inside of you as he planted his hands on either side of you.

"you look good like this." he said as he pressed himself against you. your soft, pretty tits pressed against his chest as he moved against you.

you were only going to get more beautiful with time. the thought excited him. knowing that he had marked you in such an intimate way, a way that no other driver could. you were his, it was as simple as that!

the idea of you having another rival (or partner) made his skin crawl. he knew you better than you knew yourself. he could predict your movements easily both on and off the track. as he bullied his cock into your sweet pussy, he knew that he was the right fit for you.

he pressed his nose into your neck and continued to thrust into you. your pussy was soft and wet for him. a warmth went through his body as he rocked against you.

"i want to breed you. make you my wife. keep you home with our family. you don't need to be on the track anymore. you've scored more points than any other woman. so, it's time to settle down. we'd make some strong racers." he panted and felt the sweat down his back as he thrust into you.

you held the back of his head and whispered in his ear, "you're a funny guy, verstappen. if you get me pregnant, that kid is getting my last name. and they'll be racing under my country's flag."

he smirked to himself against your neck. you say that now, but a lot can change with time. he dug his fists into the covers and picked up the pace. he loved being so close to you.

your heart close to his. it was almost intimate if it wasn't for the hateful filth that was coming out of your mouths.

"i want you always. i want to ruin you for other men. and i'll make sure that you're not sleeping with other guys." he knew a sure fire way to prevent that, hard to fuck other men when you're full of his child.

"max. you're fucking insane." you panted as you looked at him once more. he knew that you were feeling the height of pleasure, and that honestly made him harder.

that he made you this way.

"i'm fuckin' close."

"good, good. my good wife." he purred, which only made you more turned on. god, what a possessive little freak with the breeding kink!

you clutched onto him tightly and almost bit down on his neck as you came. it washed over you and you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed. then you continued to cling onto him like a lifeline.

he liked the feeling of that and soothed you with gentle words and kissed as he felt close to his own climax.

"max... c'mon. fuck." you moaned as you dug your pretty nails into his back.

he soon after cursed loudly as he slammed his cock into you, making sure you took every last inch. he wanted to make sure that he finished far enough into you that his cum didn't have anywhere else to go but into your womb.

that was his objective. he kissed you once more as he gave a few more thrusts. you moaned into the kiss and laid there under him, breathless.

he slowed down his thrusts to catch his breath. you were still clutching the covers under you. you looked amazing under him, he was right. it was where you belonged.

he placed both hands on your stomach and started to thrust once again. one orgasm wasn't going to cut it for him. if he was going to make you a verstappen, it meant making sure his dna stuck to your sweet pussy.

you'd eventually race on sunday with cum still staining your panties and a pray that no one would notice.

-

it was july now and the heat was getting unbearable. it didn't help that sitting on your hips was a six month pregnant belly. you had spent since may in the nice little sundresses that max had picked out for you.

he was painfully doting, making sure the mother of his child had anything she needed. after all, you retirement was sudden and early. such a strong driving career cut short.

"you look so good." he'd often say and his large hands spanned your swollen middle in the hopes to feel his son shifting around. you knew the asshole got off to this.

you were trying to teach your unborn child as much of your mother tongue as possible, while he'd curl up with our middle at night and speak dutch. when you tried to stop him, he simply pressed into you further.

even parenthood felt like a small rivalry.

max believed that he won the rivalry, he was about to championship that year after blood tests came back that you were pregnant. you could've killed him when you stomped out of the doctor's office and almost strangled him.

you'd hate to admit it, but there was a domesticity that you sort of liked. while you were still trying to find things to do post-driving, it was nice to be in one place at one time. what had felt like your entire life had been on planes going between tracks. the press didn't bother you as much once the news cycle of your pregnancy died down and you could just be you.

while you wanted to kill max still, even as he was snuggled up beside you on the couch, his arm draped over your bump, you honestly couldn't ask for a better baby daddy. you wouldn't let max have his victory in your little rivalry, even as the gold ring you wore gleamed in the afternoon light, you'd never admit to your husband that he had bested you. because the way you looked at it, since you shared the same last name, it was your trophy too. <3

[eviesaurusrex]

Harry Styles x High School Sweetheart!Reader (x Wife!Reader)

summary: Harry and YN were high school sweethearts and are celebrating their 15th anniversary.

faceclaim: Selena Gomez

warnings: none, pure fluff, not entirely proofread because it's late over here and I wanted to finish this before bed

author’s note: My first smau in a very long time. Please bear with me ;_; Disclaimer: The used manips are not mine, and I have not created them—the credits go to the creators (the creators’ names are on some of them). The reader is a classical music composer. Enjoy!

CelebrityStoryWatcher harrystyles just uploaded a new story of him and yourinstagram cooking at their family home in London, England, before deleting it again.

2,318,991 likes | 665,001 comments

ynfan1 How can she be so stunning???

ynandharold the way he made her laugh. "you sure you don't try to feed an entire army, love? who is supposed to eat all of that??" in that over-dramatic tone of his ;_; <3

hsfangirl Who still wants to be YN even after all these years?

Liked by 362 people.

yngirlboss Exfuckingcuse me while I try to process this. I'll be forever grateful for Harry because he makes her so bloody happy

hsfan2 i'm pretty sure this video was meant for his finster :x

↳ ynfan2 oh, definitely. It was gone so fucking fast, I barely could click on it lol

harryisdaddy He's such a simp for his wife. If he could, he would spam Instagram with her pretty face, can't tell me otherwise

ynismommy i love how cozy they both are at home. you can see how comfortable they are around each other ;_;

↳ hs_fineart that just comes naturally when you've been besties since 14, a couple since 16, and married since 26 <3

styles_spotter They have their anniversary tomorrow, don't they???????

annetwist Today, we celebrate your special day. Thank you for making my son the happiest boy ever since the day you two met. Happy anniversary, my loves ♡

978,351 likes | 35,227 comments

hsfan1 not anne making me cry in the early morning hours ;_; look at these two cuties going strong for 15 years! happy anniversary mom and dad!!!!

hs_ynfandom Happy anniversary!

ynfan1 Anne shipped them from the very first day, YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND

hsfan2 my single-heart cries in both happiness and envy. how does someone find their soulmate??? yn really need to write a guide for all those singles out here

harry_and_yn Power couple since day 1!

yourinstagram Thank you so much, Anne <3 It's easy when your son is a literal angel walking this earth

Liked by harrystyles, pillowpersonpp, and 12,886 others.

↳ annetwist You helped turn him into the man he is today ♡

yn_and_harry_haven The way they both started as cuties and grew into the most handsome/gorgeous people on this planet is INSANE. We, as a society, are not ready for their daughter to grow up.

gemmastyles MY FAVORITE SISTER IN LAW. I am forever thankful for having you as my sister—perhaps not by blood, but we are as close as they come. Happy anniversary, lovies! Make him treat you like a queen today

↳ harrystyles I obviously treat her like a queen every single day she walks on this earth.

↳ yourinstagram G ;_; ♡ I love you so much! And he really does <3 I love you too, H

Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles, and 5,209 others.

harrystyles_fangirl this family loves each other so much, i want what they have.

hanszimmer In our years working together, I not only had the pleasure of getting to know yourinstagram both creatively and personally, but harrystyles as well. In those years, I witnessed their love grow in the most beautiful of ways, and not just once have they been my inspiration for certain pieces. I wish you all the happiness for the next 15 years. Happy anniversary to our music power couple!

948,990 likes | 45,628 comments

ynfan1 Being besties with this century's mastermind of film music composition (because he taught you everything) is certainly a flex

yn_fandom imagine mr hans zimmer congratulates you on your anniversary because he grew so fond of you during all the years you were his protégé. AND he likes your husband. my life would be completed. happy anniversary, yn and harry!

hsfan1 Hans Zimmer likes Harry. Love that for our music king!

harrystyles Your words mean so much to me—to us. Thank you! I hope we can dive back into our discussions someday soon. I know YN would love to see you again. x H.

↳ yourinstagram I only can agree with my husband, Hans. Thank you for your wonderful and loving words—and for every moment you gave your all when it came to my training and education. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am today. You're always welcome in England!

↳ hanszimmer I'll never say No to a Styles invitation x

ynismommy for everyone who doesn't know: mr zimmer is the godfather of their daughter! that's how close they are. it's insane when you think about it. this girl (and any future children) will grow up with so much music and love and talent in their genes, they'll conquer the world.

↳ harry_and_yn And their children will probably the loveliest human beings because their parents are (I once met them on a stroll through London and they were THE NICEST, I still think about their kindness)

↳ ynismommy they definitely will! and truuuue, i only met yn, but she's such an angel. harry is probably the exact same because i can't see her being with someone unkind and uncaring

Liked by harry_and_yn, ynfan3, hsfan5, and 56 others.

ludovico_einaudi No one has ever spoken truer words, my friend. Happy anniversary, YN and Harry! May the next 15 years be as wonderful as the last.

↳ yourinstagram Why is everyone trying to make me cry today? ;_; Thank you so incredibly much, Ludovico

Liked by ludovico_einaudi, hanszimmer, and 4,815 others.

harrystyles My best friend. My wife. The mother of my sunshine. My darling love. You have collected so many titles in our time together, but either way, you will be, first and foremost, the love of my life. My soulmate. My muse. The essence of my happiness. You are the light of my life, the sun around which I orbit, the center of my universe, and the guiding star I look for in the sky in moments I am lost. I will forever be grateful for every second of your attention you grant me, for every tired I love you whispered in the darkness before drifting off into sleep, for making me a father and giving me something I have always wished and hoped for.

Thank you for the past 15 years, my love. Happy anniversary. x H.

4,686,998 likes | 1,329,750 comments

hsfan1 The way I am sitting on my couch now, contemplating this post, and knowing I will cry myself to sleep tonight.

yn_stylesforever no one has won in life as much as YN LN-Styles <3

ynfan1 Uhm... A NEVER BEFORE SEEN YN PHOTO?! She looks so happy T_T <3

↳ yn_and_harry my thoughts??????? Harry is feeding us

gemmastyles You, my beloved brother, are absolutely and entirely gone for this woman (and I don't want it any other way). Happy anniversary, baby brother. You deserve nothing less.

↳ harrystyles Don't make me cry, Gemma. YN will never stop teasing me about it. I can feel her watching. x

↳ yourinstagram Oh, you mean like I never forget to mention your tears at our wedding? <33

↳ harrystyles Exactly. xx

↳ gemmastyles To be quiet honest, you weren't any better that day, YNN. And why do I only get one kiss?!

↳ yourinstagram I don't know what you mean.

↳ styles_spotter these three are literally everything ;_;

mitchrowland Congratulations, H. And YNN, of course!! A life without your love can't be imagined ♡

jefezoff Congrats to my dream couple and one true shipping! To more beautiful children and wonderful years

↳ yourinstagram Not too many and not too soon, mind you. Or do you want to babysit Darcy? She loves to keep you awake for the majority of the night :3

↳ jefezoff ... I appreciate my sleep.

↳ hsfan2 poor babies ;_; but we need more beautiful styles babies!

ynfan2 Not me sobbing over those pictures and the fact how fast little Darcy is growing T_T

yourinstagram I love you more than life itself, H.

↳ ynfansite after all this time <33

pillowpersonpp Happy anniversary to my favorite singer and favorite composer!

yourinstagram Harry. Ever since the day Mrs. Merryweather put me on the seat next to you, I knew it was destiny. I knew you'd be my best friend; I knew you'd be my love if I had the courage to act on my feelings, and I knew I'd marry you someday. I just knew. And I was right. You gave me more than I could have ever hoped for; you loved me more than I could have ever hoped for. You, my love, are the best thing that could have ever happened to me, and I thank the universe every single day for allowing me to love you—and be loved by you. Thank you for making me a mother, being the incredible father you are, and raising our children together—with love and kindness.

Happy anniversary, H. To more love, more anniversaries, more happiness ♡

2,701,632 likes | 998,582 comments

annetwist I am so proud of you both for being such wonderful parents to Darcy and always supporting each other ♡

ynfan1 Gosh, today is an emotional day.

↳ gemmastyles My thoughts exactly

↳ hsfan1 Gemma is here D:

harry_and_yn i love how much they love each other

hsfan2 Both treat us with never before seen pictures of each other and I can't handle it. Mustache!Harry still is a sight to behold lol

harrystyles Oh, my love xx

↳ yourinstagram Come upstairs as soon as that call is over. I want to kiss my husband

↳ harryisdaddy YN decided to see the internet burn

ramindjawadi_official Happy anniversary to my favorite composer! Please bring little Darcy and your husband to our next meeting

↳ yourinstagram <3 Will do!

↳ ynfan2 Everyone loves Baby Styles so much

taylorswift I hope Harry is taking over some of those night shifts! Happy anniversary, you two, and let me play auntie as soon as you both need some time alone <3

ynfan3 Seeing them kiss still makes me blush because even on pictures, you always feel their burning chemistry ;_;

harry_and_yn_fandom On the anniversary of our favorite couple, we need to have a throwback to YN's Instagram story of their road trip to Italy a few years ago.

2,681 likes | 548 comments

hsfan1 I was so freaking anxious because I didn't know who was driving holy shit

↳ hsfan2 lol same. Until I realized they were stuck in a traffic jam at the Swiss border xD

Liked by hsfan1 and 21 others.

ynfandom The way her eyes always softened when looking at him <33

hsfan3 Harry felt the playlist on that day—and YN was just happy to be in his presence :3

yn_and_harry to be honest, her story made me realize they would be together forever and ever. Until death do us part and all that

↳ harry_is_fineart Definitely. And the way he took her hand after his solo of Another One Bites The Dust and how he asked her if everything was okay and if she was happy. He's the stuff women write about in romance novels.

ynfan1 Fun fact: I met Harry at a Subway right after the Italian border because YN got hungry and craved a sub and a cookie (and he was pretty tired and wanted a coffee). He stood in line while YN snuck to the driver's seat to drive their remaining route. It was so cute seeing him stand on the driver's side, sighing with a head shake, and submitting to his woman's decisions :D

↳ hsfan4 no way! That's so cute T_T

harrystylesfangirl "You know, I always get to hear you sing without paying for concert tickets." - "I'll always sing for you, my love. Doesn't matter where and when. You're my favorite audience." - "And you are mine, H." Heart eyes ensuing. This video and their conversation lives rent free in my head :D <3

↳ ynismommy I'm sure they are each other's first listeners, even before the crew and their labels.

↳ pillowpersonpp They are. Always.

;

As always: Thank you so much for reading and enjoying my silly little writing. Please consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog! <3

[yanoverload]

Yandere Cow Boy

Beau is my first Yandere Oc ever done. He's a few years old now, and he means a lot to me.

I apologize if the writing seems rushed. I am not a great writer, and English is hard. (Also can you tell the Pearl inspiration? Teehee)

"There are bonds stronger than those made by blood.... Or so granny has told me haha! Do you agree :) ?"

At first glance, you may think Beau is a sweet man that works in the bakery across the street, the one with the grandma that always seems grumpy? 

Well... 😬 

In his universe, a lot of animals have started to turn scarce with human greed. The solution? To make a mix of human and animal of course! So when they proliferate amongst themselves or with normal humans we don't have to worry about the shortage of materials :)

Except a lot of them aren't treated... That humanely.

Beau is a crossbreed experimentation to see if they could have a cow and a bull at the same time. He never met his parents. As soon as he was born he was taken along with his older sister (a failed version of the experiment) to a farm.

Farms that take hybrids receive help from the government, but the authorities don't care much about welfare, just make sure they don't die.

And that was the case. Since young, they milked Beau dry for his unique birth. Milk, breeding, meat? Of course! He is one of a kind after all! He can restore "most" of his organs!

His only shelter was his older sister. Motherly, caring, worried for him. He never understood what was happening at first, but she explained everything to him!

He felt awful about the situation. He didn't care much about himself at first, but he wanted to give his sister a better life as he grew. He made a plan with a new worker at the farm that felt bad for them: he would take both in the delivery cart at night and they would escape.

Or so he thought. The night he was ready to leave with his sister, he went to get her and she wasn't anywhere. Terrified the owners did something, he ran to where he was going to meet the worker to see.... Nothing, no cart, no one.

Well... Except a shotgun at his back.

The owners found out about the situation. But they weren't angry, oh no! His sister and the worker could leave, hell they could take some money too! If they left Beau. His sister was a bother, too much work for not a lot of stuff to sell and the worker talked too much. So they left.

They left.

They left me.

He was in such a state of shock, he says he didn't remember a thing....

The sun was rising, before he even noticed the mangled bodies of the farm owners. They were two old fuckers anyway. 

Oh! He found his sister and the worker not too far from there. The cart was on the side of the road, silent.

Traitors don't talk, after all. And they don't move anymore either.

He leaves on foot, since he doesn't know how to drive, and settles down in front of a closed establishment.

As soon as he wakes up, he sees a grumpy but worried granny, thinking the blood was his own. Her vision hasn't been the same, and we all know how hybrids are treated around these parts.

He can stay for now.... She is a bit lonely, and could use a hand in the bakery.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Beau was treated like cattle, so he doesn't understand human structures and psyche that well. 

He wants to form a new family, have a new beginning.

One of his first meals at Granny was Neapolitan ice cream. He liked it so much he dyed his hair pink, now he is a Neapolitan cow :D

He works in the back, and takes the shippings.

Always raised by women, he likes more feminine things, but still prefers He/Him pronouns.

He has broken two beds because of how massive he is.

He never calls anyone by name, only "friend". Well... Except Grandma and Darling.

Height: 204 cm (6'8 feet)

[bloodykora]

I Meant It

I finally wrote an actual one shot for Buggy :)

Summary: You 'babysit' Buggy while he's only a head.

No use of y/n however reader is referred to gal and very feminine pet names (I normally write gender neutral but this was very self serving). I had to write this on my phone so if the format is different from my norm, that is why.

“I think his nose is cute.” A voice breaks out for the first time in the conversation, the other two slowly turning towards you in shock and judgement.

“I beg your pardon sweet thing?” Sanji is the first to break the moment of silence, you raise your shoulders at him.  “I don’t know, he's like. Okay, you know those cats who have a limb missing and they go to scratch with that limb and everyone’s like ‘awww’. That’s kinda how I think I am with him right now, look at him. He’s just a head, a little kitty who can’t scratch behind his ear and needs some help.”

“You seem to forget about the village he destroyed, the one that offered us the rest of their food after we saved them because of what him and his crew did.” “Zoro, you out of everyone has no right to judge considering you took that random dude’s brother’s head.” You stare at the Buggy in front of us with a cloth in his mouth, watching this whole conversation about him go down.

“I do not need to be around this.” Zoro states before leaving, huffing to himself right before he goes out of ear shot. 

“I never knew you out of everyone would be into the clown type but then again, all women are a mystery.” A laugh comes out and you shake your head at Sanji’s words before replying. “I think I just like them to be outgoing.” You slowly and dramatically look Sanji up and down before connecting gazes with him. 

Before he has the chance to respond, a loud bang erupts from a part of the ship which catches both of your attention. Sanji sighs before looking at me. “Things can never be calm around here can they?” A smile appears on your face as you nod. “You go check that out, I think Zoro has had enough of me today, I’ll stay here with him.” You cock your head to the side, pointing at Buggy. Sanji nods and begins to walk away. “Be safe sweets, holler if you need anything.” He looks back to say before continuing on. 

You look back at the clown, his eyes wide watching. Taking a few steps in his direction, nearing him before bending down to him. “Don’t make me regret this.” You quietly say out before gently removing the gag in his mouth. “Ahh toots, that feels so much better." He states while stretching his mouth and licking his lips. “You have no idea how dry my mouth was getting, I was almost debating having a sip of sea water!” You roll my eyes before sitting beside the barrel he was on.

“I think that would not be beneficial cause then you’d have the opposite problem of having too much water.” You pause for a second before questioning. “Can you drown? I mean like now, as just a head? You have no lungs attached to you currently.” “I’ve never tried, I would assume yes though.” “Well, don’t do it then. I wouldn’t wanna have to be the one to save you, or maybe I’d send Sanji to do it for me.”  “That blondie would let me die, I’d be a lot better, mentally and physically, if it was you.” He winks at you. “Mmm, I think anyone of us would do it begrudgingly. For Nami.” He huffs beside you, it was a little funny as just a head. You could imagine his body’s chest moving along with it.

“What is with you and that cook anyway? It’s like you two wanna jump each other, I say just get a room and do it for the sake of me and the crew.” A snort comes out at his words. “Buggy, I don’t think Sanji is actually attracted to me. Yes, he is good looking. However, he flirts with every woman he sees. In front of me too. Ya know, you two kinda remind me of each other in that regard.”

“Oh darling, I would treat you so much better than he ever could.” His words are filled with honey, sweet and dripping. You look at him, face in a ‘really?’ gaze. “I don’t know, he is French. And you know there is a kiss named after them.” He scoffs at the retort. “My head detaches, do I have to say more?”  Your face drops in realization and your cheeks begin to heat up at his words. “Slut.” The word flew out of your mouth before you could process it. He sits expressionless before breaking into laughter. Your hand raises to your forehead, half covering your face as you laugh.  “I never admitted this but I think I like spending time with you more than Zoro.” “I don’t know, it’s hard to compare his death threats to your sugary laugh.” He flirts again,  You shake your head at his faux forwardness. “If you do that again I’m going to flick your ear I swear to god.” He grins ear to ear like a cat luring in its prey, his face then slowly rests like he was actually thinking for once.

“Earlier, you called my nose cute.” “Yes I did.” “Did you actually mean it or were you poking fun like the others?” I glance at him, his tone serious and his eyes almost pleading. “I meant it.” It’s silent, for the first time ever since you've met Buggy. It seems he takes a breath before speaking up.

"You know, you'd be a good second in command. I could pay you handsomely, far more than these schmucks are."  "They aren't really paying me." His eyes bulge out a bit at the answer.  "You won't realize it yet, considering how they have treated you however," You pause, choosing your words carefully. "They are the closest thing to family I have gotten in forever, meanwhile your crew feared you. That is all the swaying I need."  "Its cause that Sanji is taller than me isn't it?" You scoff and crack up at his wit. Laughing to the point of your shoulders visibly shaking.  "Oh yes, that is absolutely it." You respond teasing, laughter still in your voice. He shakes his head in disappointment. The pair of you continue to stare out as the sun goes down over the horizon, the warm orange creeping into an umber and then its usual royal blue. The stars peering down at the pair. 

"I think it might be time to head in." You say out loud, mostly to yourself while your hands rub over your arms to retain some heat. You could hear the buzzing begin of the mosquitos.  "What doll, can't handle a little breeze?" You shake your head, you could begin to feel the tip of your fingers cool.  "I've never been good with night time on the water." Buggy sighs beside me as I sit up.

"Let's head in then." He looks up at you, a small smile on his face. You pick him up, avoiding uncomfortable placement of your hands or a tight grip. His skin was warmer then expected, that was the stereotype though. The men being hot blood and bodied creatures.

"Where am I staying tonight? Barrel, in a window, random box?"  "I think you're gonna stay with me." Buggy's eyebrows furrow in confusion. You begin to walk quickly to your small corner of the ship, descending down a small flight of stairs. The blue haired head clutched in your arms almost like the way you'd hold a newborn. 

The blue cot you were well acquainted with was already strung up, ready for you to rest in. You put Buggy up there in it before talking up to him.  "I'm changing so don't try anything okay?" The jester was already too shocked and flustered to speak. Making a mental promise to himself not to break your trust.  You take a bit of time before he sees your arms come over the side and lift yourself into the hammock. You settle yourself, pulling up the blanket that laid at the end over mostly you. There's a few thuds down the stairs before Sanji appears before you both. 

"Ahh, just the gal I was looking for. How did babysitting go?" He asks, putting an arm over the side of the bed. Standing on a piece of board under you to boost himself up.  "Still here cook boy." Buggy's voice bellows out, you smile at the cook while he gives you a confused glance.  "I got worried that the mosquitos will affect his brain and stuff." You put on your best innocent smile and Sanji shakes his head.  "You are the most mad pirate I think I've ever laid my eyes on." He gets a shrugged shoulders and rolled eyes back.  "So, what was it that happened earlier?" You lean up to peer over the side at him. His face was always a comfort even when it felt the most safe.  "Apparently Usopp knocked something over and then Luffy couldn't remember if it was Nami's or something else. You know him, if its not food related then he's not fully paying attention." You nod, agreeing with the blond. Sanji leans in close to you, looking over your shoulder at the head eavesdropping. 

"Are you going to be okay with him? Cause you know I can very much find a different spot for him." He says in a hushed tone to you, a small smile appears on your face.  "I'll be okay Sanji, he's just a head. The most he could do is bite me and I think I'd wake up before he could cause real damage. However, if anything goes sour. You will be the first one I call to come help." You place your hand on his shoulder, rubbing it quickly before putting it back under the blanket. Sanji nods at you before he steps down.  "Well sweet, you have a goodnight. Don't dream of me too much okay?" You wave to him and wish him a good night. 

"God he's annoying." Buggy says as you cuddle into your bed, eyes closed in a peaceful manner. "Just look at it like this, you're in my bed. He's not." That shuts him up fast, you peek an eye open at him. He seems speechless and you let out a quiet giggle.  "Please do tell me if you snore." "I should be saying that to you, you can roll over or move. I'm just stuck here."  You let out a mhmm, the luring sleepiness now very present in your body and brain. Buggy stares at you, blanket tucked up to your chin and face relaxed.  He laid there and listened to you breathe for a bit. Making sure you were well into your slumber before muttering out.  "Sleep well love."