#anwar x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

w0rmdahl · 4 months

Text

are you listening? — SKNS

gif ©: w0rmdahl, madsofrps-blog

show: skins s1 (2007-2008)

synopsis: joey may have fallen first, but love fell on anwar.

word count: 4.1k

featuring: anwar kharral, (oc) joey park, maxxie oliver, mention of jal fazer, mention of tony stonem

warnings: (it's skins yk) strong language, sex, early 2000s

a/n: so much to say about this piece omg. check the replies for everything i have to tell you guys lol (p.s. i think swear i can write in present-ish tense but i can't begin without the bg set up womp womp)

next-door neighbors turned childhood best friends, anwar and joey were widely regarded (at least by the 13 people who knew them) as two peas in a pod; an inseparable duo that always happened to be together even when they weren't really supposed to. most — if not all parent-teacher conferences were chalk-full of complaints about their inability to stop talking to the other, and numerous family gatherings had been defined by the odd man out chatting happily as usual with their other half — their other half being a spikey haired anwar standing significantly shorter than he was now or the brace-faced joey who'd refused to make eye contact with anyone else.

over the near-seventeen years they were friends so tightly knit you couldn't even fit a coin between them, joey and anwar had obviously encountered their fair share of pros and cons that came with the territory. on one hand, they always got away with whatever mischievous schemes they'd come up with because no one ever expected them to be in on it together. however, the most pressing issue by far had always been the dating allegations.

for a long time even the mention of romantic feelings lingering around had them up in arms, vehemently denying the allegations with an iron fist as they cited how ridiculous it was to assume just because they were a boy and a girl. and though they began this uphill battle before even reaching double digits, the accusations would only grow worse the older they got and the further into their friendship they ventured.

anwar had always been the very first to deny, always saying the same thing; "you're sick and perverted, joey's my best mate! she's not even like a girl to me!" and for some reason young joey always found this to be hilarious. nowadays, however, not as funny. actually a little hurtful to be completely honest, but she knew why.

the god-honest truth was; joey had loved anwar since the start. she grew up with the hopeless gnawing of yearn at her fingertips, familiar with the fungus-like growth of blush on her cheeks as they walked home from school or shared a cigarette under the stars. she'd spent years tossing restlessly in bed every night in an attempt to tune out the annoying hum in her chest until it eventually became nothing more than white noise in her ears — somewhat manageable but still tender like a bruise when pressed.

by 14 she had figured out a way to better conceal the jealousy that bubbled inside whenever he drooled over the nearest being with boobs, that is, until she found herself whining under the covers like a sick dog. by 15 she finally came to terms with the fact that he'd never even look in her direction with romance in mind, and by her 16th birthday spent with the blubbering drunk, joey finally put the hopes of ‘something more’ to rest as she fell asleep with his elbow dug into her ribs and a lump of acceptance in her throat.

on the contrary, however, anwar was not afforded the luxury of carefully unraveling the warmth in his chest until the burden met his open palms. no — unlike joey's lifelong pining, poor dear anwar happened to be speaking with maxxie when the realization fell on top of him like bricks squashing a bug.

"i just — i don't get it! why does she do that?" he huffed before taking another swig of whatever liquor it was that they'd found at the park, sat leaned against his bed with the absence of her fairy lights reflecting into his window further grating his tender feelings. "of course i don't want to hear about some wanker trying to chat her up! that's disgusting!"

maxxie almost laughs at him, though he refrains. "oh, come on, anwar. you know joey's like mother teresa, i bet she didn't even let him dream about it. is it really that big of an issue?"

"it is! because now i have the image of this bloke shoving his tongue down her throat and if i think about it any longer i'm gonna spew!"

now pausing to catch the sad-faced-clowns gaze, maxxie snatched the bottle from him before shrugging, voice small like he already knew what would come next. "well..." he hummed, "have you ever thought about telling her?"

the aforementioned clowns eyebrows furrowed together. "telling her what?"

"come on, an, it's obvious. i've seen how you look at her. you'll never know until you give it a shot."

at first, anwar would fully brush him off. "maxxie," he'd say with the disapproval already written in his grimace "it's not like that — it's never been like that. i've never even thought of joey like that." but when his stripe-wearing friend finally went home and left him all alone to mull over their conversation, poor dear anwar would think of her like that. he'd find himself in a similar position that night, unbeknownst to either parties, curled into a ball under the covers as he clutched at his chest almost like he was ready to rip the frantic heart right out.

as jal would say months after this initial incident; "joey may have fallen in love first, but love fell on anwar." she was right, as always, but this wouldn't come to fruition until a period of continuous push-and-pulls between them.

of course, the days and weeks following proceeded as typical as usual; anwar and joey hung out for the majority of the day, partied on the weekends, found themselves waking up a tangled mess on the floor surrounded by the rest of the gang covered in a typical amount of vomit. nothing significant immediately changed — much to his dismay — but instead it seemed as though a list of strange circumstances added up over time to grow into the change they both so desperately longed for.

first it was anwar. joey noticed only a few days after he'd originally got upset with her that he started accommodating her more — at least more than usual. it started with the bag of chips they'd bought to share between their parallel windows. usually he'd try to convince her not to get the spicy chips due to the fact that it always ended with tears, but on this fateful day, anwar picked her absolute favorite without so much as a flinch before paying for it himself.

it didn't strike her as exceptionally abnormal until she finished her drink without realizing and was yet again left sniffling, eyes wet as she reached over the gap to hand it back to him with dust-covered fingers. he'd resume leaning against the window frame in search for his drink to hand over only to turn back and find her with a thumb between her lips, tears dripping down her pink cheeks. she laughed.

"they're just so good."

joey would wait for her expected response, something along the lines of 'you're a monster/addict/freak,' only to have his dumb grin be the entire response. she could see his gaze surveying her warm face before fixing on her eyes and staying there, utterly unmoving until she'd grumble.

"just say 'told you so' or something! don't make me stew in it."

anwar was careful not to stare for too long after that, he knew she didn't like feeling 'seen' anyway. but you'd best believe he was studying her features every time she wasn't looking, skin so much softer and lips so much rosier now that he saw her in the new light. he could've sworn she existed solely in a hazy glow colored by every new feature he witnessed pulling him in deeper. if only he could reach out to make sure — to check and see if she was really as radiant as he'd observed. how didn't he notice it before?

it would get to a point that, on a foggy drunken night, anwar would reach out to test his theory.

"— so, when i went home, i got to tell my mom all about how well i did and how many compliments i got from the teachers. she said she'd make my jjajangmyeon tomorrow, too!" from her seat on the counter, joey sat swinging her legs with a cup full of absolute jungle-juice swishing inside as she told him about her successful friday quizzes. "i'm just so happy it's over. i could drink myself to death!"

anwar swore he was listening — he swore he was paying attention to each and every detail about her exams and all the people and especially that bloke dominic — but from his inebriated place against the adjacent island of this posh house he could not for the life of him keep his mind off of the yearn to bring his pounding heart as close to hers as possible. with slow blinks emphasizing his glossy eyes, anwar set his drink down and pushed himself to stand up in one swift motion, arms already wrapped under her shoulder blades by the time she understood what was happening.

it wasn't like they'd never hugged before — they have hugged plenty of times, in fact. physical contact was not a foreign language to them after a long childhood of sleepovers ending with him using her as a blanket because they fell asleep on the floor, but it definitely became less frequent the older they got. waking up on the floor with his head on her stomach was still a common occurrence, but tender interactions like hugs were typically reserved for serious, gloomy moments that called for it. like when her cat died. not, for example, while she was around 7 shots in telling him about her awesome day.

"wh—what's up?" she chuckled nervously, pulse against his as her fingertips subconsciously found his spine, "this is super haram." there was an anxiousness to her voice that even an intoxicated anwar picked up on, especially when pressed so close he could hear the vibrations of her vocal cords. anwar took a deep breath before he pulled away to reclaim his spot against the marble.

"i'm happy you're alive."

a flash of furrowed brows appeared across her face before she was then setting her cup down, sliding off the counter to put her jacket back on. "okay, annie, time to go home. i want you to remember this in the morning when i nurse you back to health."

anwar declared to maxxie the following day (after recovering from his hangover) that he needed to be more careful with how he went about this with joey — if he was gonna muster the courage to talk about it, he had to be careful until that point came. he couldn't just find himself stumbling into it; he had to be smart about this and prove himself worthy as someone for joey, the famously proud virgin who ran off any guy looking in the wrong places for something 'haram' (as his dad and joey would say, though he was certain joey was only teasing.)

"how do i know she even likes guys? or anyone, for that matter!" anwar is almost spiraling with his eyes fixed on the ceiling fan, "the only people she's ever liked are all celebrities! sure, norman bates is an interesting choice, but everyone loves ralph macchio he's-the-fucking-karate-kid!!!"

maxxie, as per usual, was cool as a cucumber. "well, why don't you just do some spy work?” he suggested, “ask her sneaky questions...point her in that direction?"

this ingenious yet devious plan from the third musketeer would eventually be how joey accidentally stumbled into revealing a little too much, unknowingly lead into the territory by her best friend with a sinister motive as they waited on tony and michelle to stop shagging upstairs.

"hey," he'd inquire, innocent in the face as he looked over at her. "can i ask you something?"

"of course."

"the other day chris said mostly men have foot fetishes and mostly women have hand fetishes. is that true or..."

joey looked over at him already irritated, likely suspicious of a looming joke in poor taste. she sighed as she shrugged in an attempt to play off her genuine intrigue before actually pausing to think about it. it sounded true, didn't it?

"i mean...i have no sources, so don't quote me or anything, but i'd say it's probably true."

anwar leaned in a little closer. "but...so...you think a lot of women like hands?"

"i don't know, man," she chuckles and visibly leans away "i know some girls do. why are you so interested?"

"do you?"

now she's actually raising her guard, he can see it in her eyes as she grimaces at his questioning. "well..." joey starts, gaze flicking around the room so as to avoid his. "kind of."

anwar's mischevious smile would grow upon hearing this response, restraining the urge to tease and nudge her with an elbow in favor of continuing his spywork. "kind of?"

"i wouldn't even say it's a fetish like a foot fetish is —" she's speaking quickly the same way she did when trying to fight embarrassment, "it's just — girls can appreciate pretty hands when they see one — i can appreciate pretty hands. it's just an added bonus, you know? if you're hot that's awesome, if you're hot and you have nice hands..."

he didn't even have to think about his next line of questioning. "do i?" anwar asks, presenting forth a warm (and a little clammy from the nerves) palm toward her. joey's eyes would finally return to his, wide and utterly perplexed, before peering down at the fingers outstretched toward her.

"well..." she mutters, shaky fingertips grazing his knuckles as she turned his hand over. "i'd...say so. you have...um..." joey's almost crumbling under the pressure. her face is growing hotter by the second, covered only by the long locks of hair she let conceal her features while she tried to navigate this sticky situation. how to be honest while also not revealing that she had thought about his hands in detail plenty of times to recognize each and every vein and scar in the skin?

"well," her tone is stronger now that she's cleared her throat, "you don't have any visible diseases, so that's a start. your fingers are long — but not like, salad fingers long. and you have big hands, too, girls like that. — i think."

finally looking up from the back of the hand she knew well, joey's pupils are darker than before, a shy smile curling her red lips once she noticed his. 'sly' he thought, 'but not sly enough.' she'd set his hand back down in his lap as the creaking bed upstairs finally came to a halt.

"you're cheeky."

moments such as these, tense and somewhat awkward but certainly suggestive, would be given the time to grow into an entire catalogue (later discussed between maxxie and anwar) that eventually built up into one final, fateful friday.

it was a friday like any other for the pair, the beginning of the weekend spent walking home side-by-side after school in order to drop off their bags before heading to some posh party tony had invited them to. but, halfway through the getting-ready process, anwar would decide to make a catastrophic play;

"do you know if kelsey will be there?"

joey, from her place laid flat over his covers, almost scoffed. "um...why would i know?"

"she's in your last period," anwar shrugged nonchalance before pulling a different shirt over his head. "just thought you might have overheard her say something about it." from the corner of his vision he could see her sit up for the first time in 20 minutes, her arms propped behind her back as she looked over at him, though he couldn't see her expression.

"how do you know that?"

"she told me yesterday." he'd say simply. joey only inched closer, her full and individed attention on him now as she sat at the edge of the mattress.

"she told you? what does that mean?"

anwar couldn't help the smirk that found it's way to his lips at the obvious jealousy in her voice. he turned to look at her — wiping the grin from his face first, of course. "it means she came up to me yesterday before last period to ask to hang out." he stated plainly, watching as her gaze became sharper, "but i said no cause i didn't wanna cancel our movie night."

"oh, how thoughtful of you."

anwar was immediately certain he'd made a severe miscalculation by the absolute venom in her voice, low and barbed and filled to the brim with animosity as she rolled her eyes — a gesture he didn't see often. joey sat tense with her arms folded over her chest so tightly that her nails dug into the skin like she was holding the leash of a rabid dog.

she spoke again.

"so thoughtful, in fact, it makes me wonder why you even bothered to bring kelsey up at all. you could've just kept that to yourself — and yet here we are. why is that, anwar?"

he audibly gulped, his mouth agape as he searched for an explanation to offer other than the real one. joey was too quick, however, too well-versed in anwar-isms to not notice his obvious tells of dishonesty. within a beat and a half she's shooting to her feet with her pointer finger angled accusingly at him.

"you know what? i'm sick to death of your double standards, anwar, and i never got an apology after you totally brushed me off over the dominic thing — so it's funny that you decide now is a great time to tell me all about how badly that cunt kelsey wants in your pants. did you think i'd be happy you canceled because of me? that i'm the roadblock?"

in their near-seventeen years of friendship, never has anwar seen joey so angry. of course they'd argued in the past, especially over trivial things, but jo typically spoke in this distinct whine that came out whenever she felt cornered. maybe that was just how he made her feel at the time, and maybe that was how she effectively wanted to make him feel — but he didn't have the time to think about that now.

"n—no, no," anwar is backpedaling, his mind spinning the wheel on where to begin — what to do. "i wasn't—i just—it's different!" he's incomprehensible through the fire in her veins.

"what's different, anwar? your hypocrisy? — telling me all about how well you and kelsey kerr get along but i'm the bitch for telling you how massive of a cunt i was to dominic?" her eyebrows are almost touching, the lines of disgust visible by her flared nostrils, teeth bared like a violent beast. joey's almost yelling by this point, "you made me feel like bristol's town slut for telling that — that fucker off and yet here you are asking me if your stupid hookup is coming to this stupid fucking party!"

anwar begins sputtering for the right words to say, nearly unintelligible as multiple explanations meld together into a frantic jumbled mess. "jo — no — it's different now! i just mean — i didn't — i was just trying —"

she's over it. "you know what!?" joey interrupts, her volume close to the loudest he'd ever heard her voice (minus the spider on her shoulder.) "i don't want to hear it!" and without another word she's already turning on her heel, stomping her way out the door before slamming it behind her. thank allah his family was out.

of course anwar followed after her! what else was he supposed to do? he'd be hot on her heels the whole way down the stairs, blubbering a slew of apologies and explanations and pleads as they exited his front door and walked right up to hers. joey then turned as her fingers gripped the knob, face to face with him from her spot on the top step, and wholly severed any lingering conversation to be had.

"shut up, anwar! just shut the fuck up! i don't know if you think it's funny to piss me off or what — but now i'm pissed off! so what i need from you right now is to shut your mouth and fuck off because i don't want to say anything mean to you because i love you—so.for.the.love.of...god or allah or whatever! — go away!"

anwar went back to his room with his tail tucked between his legs, head hung as he flopped onto his bed. he'd turn to look out his window — the one that had always been their own personal menagerie for the other to watch and occasionally sneak into — only to find her blinds closed. with a heavy and distinctly discouraged sigh anwar would spend another hour or so going over everything that had happened — everything that could happen after this passed. he'd find that the longer he thought about it, the worse the outcome between them spiraled in his mind, his hands and his legs restless — itching to get up and do something about it. so he did.

first anwar tried tapping on the glass to see if anyone was actually inside there, rightfully earning himself a middle finger that emerged from below the windowsill. he took it on the chin with a short nod of acceptance before turning around just to brainstorm another option, then deciding to throw pebbles at the street-view glass. that was rom-com-ish, right? maybe he could charm her enough to hear him out, to just listen from the top of the tower she'd barracaded herself in, to understand the love inside that begged to be seen.

although this attempt was completely ignored instead, anwar was not discouraged, finding his own resolve by his side; he'd either burn every bridge to joey in one fell swoop, or he'd make it to the other side unscathed. using a trick from his sisters who'd gushed over john cusack after watching that one movie from the 80s, anwar would head back inside only to emerge with the biggest boombox he could find propped on his shoulder, the tape she'd made for his 14th birthday already playing one of her favorite songs.

it took a moment (the entire first chorus) for a response, but soon a glossy-eyed and puffy-faced joey appeared in the window, arms still folded over her chest and brows still furrowed despite his determination.

'and you do your best to show me love.'

he held the boombox taller, stronger atop his shoulder as he watched the grip on her own arms loosen.

'but you don't know what love is.'

anwar offered a weak, apologetic, pathetic smile.

'so are you listening?'

finally, the outline of her smile would be revived as she let go of her flesh to pull the window pane up, lifting it over her head to lean over the edge. she couldn’t resist paramore.

"trying to get arrested?" she asks, obviously teasing although her tone remained the same as before.

anwar wouldn't waste even a second, setting the still-booming speaker on the ground to dive head first into redemption, calling up to her with a muddled and quivering voice.

"joey, i'm sorry! i'm sorry i'm not a better friend to you! i'm sorry i'm a hypocrite and a dick and a caveman and a jackass — i swear i'm good inside! i can be tender! i can be kind! please let me show you! i — i have all these feelings inside me and to you it's just words and you know i'm not good with my words!!"

joey pauses. there's a lot to sort through here and not a lot of context, so she's mid-filling in the gaps when he starts hollering again.

"i'm sorry about dominic! i know it was shitty — i just — i couldn't stand the thought of him — !" anwar nearly chokes on the words "i just wanted to make you jealous! i wanted to see if you felt as awful as i did! and i'm sorry, jo! i'm sorry i l—" he stops himself to gauge her reaction.

there is a smile of utter disbelief on her face now, teeth growing more and more visible as she stares down at him from her place on the second floor. even under the familiar streetlight he can see her cheeks blushing a deep red, eyes sparkling with what he'd describe as hope. with a deep breath and a leap of faith, anwar would finally say the three simple words that sealed the deal.

“i love you!!” anwar calls up to joey from his place on the sidewalk, the prince at the bottom of the tower calling up to the princess. and what does she say?

“i think about you when i touch myself!!”

anwar had never been so sure about anything in his life.

#[ anwar ]#anwar ✶ joey #anwar kharral skins #anwar skins #skins uk #anwar kharral #skins anwar #dev patel x reader #dev patel fanfic #dev patel imagines #dev patel imagine #dev patel #oc community #oc creation #oc x canon #ocs #oc #my ocs

41 notes · View notes

spikershoyo · 4 months

Text

guys send more dev and his characters request I can feel the creativeness flowing (I am still working on the angst but I HAVE THE VISION)

6 notes · View notes

judgementdaysunshine · 1 year

Text

Suvi Anwar Masterlist

In progress

#suvi anwar #mass effect #suvi anwar x reader #mass effect x reader

1 note · View note

twobluejeans · 1 year

Text

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 7: revenge dress, part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 7! bc why did this take me 2 days to make. da faq. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by harrystyles, austinbutler, and 26,955,959 others

yourinstagram and by the way, i’m going out tonight.

View all 357,728 comments

sabrinacapenter R U KIDDING ME???

badgalriri go bad bitch go bad bitch go

1dstyles.harry harry i see u lurking 👀

user1 she don’t know she need me yet

arianagrande MOTHER IS MOTHERING

barbie this barbie is THAT GIRL

leclerc_pascale Beautiful Girl!❤️

yourinstagram leclerc_pascale thank you ❤️

alexademie 😍😍

user2 they won’t love you like i would

omarapollo come home the kids miss u

y/nsdeadreputaion i know charles is crying in the corner rn

(landonorris liked this comment !)

danielricciardo May God bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took your mom to hospital to give birth to you

yourinstagram danielriccoardo i hate you 😭💀

danielricciardo yourinstagram Don’t lie, You know you love me

fernandoalonso_offical danielricciardo No. Stop it.

written by Ally

July 15,2023 AT 1:30PM

Y/n L/n is rarely seen walking the streets in public anymore, but that is changing following her recent breakup from longtime love Charles Leclerc.

The 12-time Grammy winner was spotted out and about in Rome just one day after her release of her new single, Reckless, which reflects on her past relationship with the formula 1 driver.

L/n was joined by celebs friends Zendaya, Tom Holland, Sabrina Carpenter, Bella Hadid, and Alexa Demie for a night out at Shari Vari Play House in Vía de' Nari, Italy.

The news of her breakup sent shockwaves on social media. Tweets and memes were made, with fans expressing their disbelief and grief

Rumors had already spread that Leclerc was seeing someone else the last few months of thosr relationship. L/n just made those rumors official last night as she delivered a tribute to Leclerc and his new girlfriend Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, sending the media to a frenzy.

The “Karma” hitmaker opted for a dress from Mônot’s SS22 collection, a black dress with cutouts across the chest and stomach, leaving little fabric between L/n’s collarbone and lower waist.

People on twitter are already calling this “Y/n L/n’s Revenge Dress Era” .

"Not @Y/nL/n wearing Y/n’s Version of 'the revenge dress'," one fan posted.

The ultimate revenge dress is, of course, the off-the-shoulder black Christina Stambolian dress that Princess Diana wore while her former husband then-Prince Charles was admitting to an affair with current Queen Consort Camilla.

Diana, Princess of Wales attends the Vanity Fair party at the Serpentine Gallery on November 20, 1994 Anwar Hussein

L/n kicked off her sold-out Eras Tour on March 17, and eagle-eyed fans noticed that Leclerc had been absent from her shows.

In case you're unfamiliar with the lore of YourShipName (portmanteau and couple name of L/n and Leclerc), you probably don't understand the distress caused by the news. For most, Leclerc is not even a household name, but for YourFandomsName, he's the titular Lover.

via @yourinstagram in a now deleted instagram post

The Midnights singer and f1 driver started dating in 2016. Fans speculate they met at the 2016 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix based on the lyrics of Reputation cut "Dress": "Flashback to when you met me / Your buzzcut and my hair bleached." Because, you guessed it, Leclerc sported a buzzcut and L/n’s hair was bleached.

At a secret session for Reputation, Leclerc reportedly told fans that the single "Gorgeous" was about her "angel boyfriend of one year." Other tracks off of Reputation like “Delicate," "Call It What You Want," and "King Of My Heart" are also thought to be about Leclerc.

Her next album, Lover, is also understood to be about Leclerc with songs like "Paper Rings," "Cornelia Street," "Daylight," and the titular "Lover."

During quarantine the couple started collaborating creatively. Leclerc surpassed his muse status and co-wrote Folklore tracks "Exile" and "Betty,"

Evermore songs "Champagne Problems" and "Coney Island, and most recently, "Sweet Nothing" off Midnights. Other tracks on her most recent three albums canonically about Leclerc include: "Invisible String" and "Peace."

While they opted to remain very private about their romance, the couple was hit with a slew of engagement rumors throughout the course of their ill-fated romance.

"I'm aware people want to know about that side of things," Leclerc told GQ in 2018. "I think we have been successfully very private and that has now sunk in for people."

L/n briefly touched on the privacy aspect of their relationship in her 2020 documentary, "Miss Americana."

"We decided together we wanted our relationship to be private," she said. "Even though [my public image in 2016] was really horrible, I was happy."

"But I wasn't happy in the way I was trained to be happy. It was happiness without anyone else's input. We were just... happy," the singer added.

The "Lavender Haze" songstress' exes famously include Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert Pattinson, Fabian Frankel, Ben Barnes, Harry Styles, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson.

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• From Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc to Sofia Vergara and Joe Manganiello, Here are all the Celebirty breakups of 2023…So far

• Leonardo DiCaprio, Gigi Hadid Are 'Definitely Dating' (Exclusive Source)

• Carlos Sainz Shares his thoughts on YourShipName’s Breakup

TWITTER, july 15

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by kendalljenner, haileybieber, and 2,674,123 others

lolaaransdell_ couldn’t be bothered

View all 32,177 comments

user5 someone pls take away her phone i’m so serious

y/nsleclerc god has lots of favorites🥰💞🧚🏽you’re not one of them🥺💘💘

haileybieber the hottest ❤️❤️

badgerdannyricc you hit different 😍when you’re not on my screen 🧚‍♀️💞✨

cillianmurphyfineaf u killed this 💞🦋!🧚🏽now do the same for urself🙈🥰⚡️

charles16_leclerc this is just embarrassing stop

auzziericciardo i don’t like you but ur blush and highlight looks really good

norissxricciardo my daughter said she loved your videos! 😩💗✨ so i put her up for adoption 😽☁️🌺

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 16

yourinstagram 4h

viewed by michaelbjordan, lilyrose_depp, and 2,042,828 others

INSTAGRAM, july 16

liked by landonorris, jacobelordi, and 8,667,214 others

yourinstagram it feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters & make fun of our exes.

View all 102,421 comments

cinnamongirldelrey oh this is iconic.

queensel the reunion we needed

argentinastyles stop i love selena and y/n together

parisy/n THE CAPTION LMFAOAKSKHDH

charlottesiine Angel sisters for life!!!

yourinstagram charlottesiine my queen i love you!

jarofheartsy/n wait i’m confused who’s the girl on the last pic?

ciney/n jarofheartsy/n charlotte sine, charles’s ex gf 💀

TWITTER, july 16

ally’s radio 📻: DON’T U LOVE WHEN WOMEN. guys im stuck on who to choose for y/n’s next boo. like. so stuck. THIS CAN GO LIKE FOUR WAYS. WE HAVE FOUR OPTIONS AND I KINDA WANNA LET U GUYS PICK BUT ALSO NEED TO KEEP YALL IN SUSPENSE SO LIKE😭 SHARE WITH ME UR THOUGHTS PLS. also, i think i might start a danny ric fanfic next bc that’s bbg.

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj @chasing-liberosis @laneyspaulding19

2K notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 4 months

Text

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

#gavisuntiedboot #gub we cant be friends #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri blurb #pedri gonzalez #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez one shot #pedri fanfic #footballer #football rpf #football fanfic

265 notes · View notes

strawberrybuff · 4 months

Text

That Boy is Mine

This is a Male original character x Maxxie Oliver Maxxie Oliver x Male oc/reader Other characters are included (Tony , Chris , Jal , Sid , Cassie , Michelle ) you can imagine the oc as whatever you like but I imagine him as a tanned skinned guy with Black hair not too long and not to short , he has a couple of piercings on his left ear and his taller then Maxxie might as well be taller then Anwar . this is my first time writing a smut - its not that good so don't be mean and also my first one-shot on Tumblr !!!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Monday Afternoon , and you have promised to meet up with a certain blonde in the studio .

You have arrived at the studio and saw Maxxie Practicing Tap dancing while talking on the phone , you leaned on the door Frame and smirked as he talked to Tony , he looked too cute with his outfit that you couldn't pull you eyes of him .

"God, I'm good." , as Maxxie turned back at you and smirked , you walked in front of him and glanced down at him and said "Do you know that you look hot while tap dancing" as you smirked .

"I've been told so by some certain black headed grunge Guy so many time" as he pulled your necktie and smirked "what are you doing tonight " Maxxie asked .

"why you wanna ask me on a date ? " as he kept pulling you necktie to stand in front of the table , you picked him up and dropped him on top of the table .

"someone has been working out" "Nah your just light as a feather" your eyes kept roaming his body as he look to petite , his body just gave you the feeling that it needs to be worshipped .

"I was asking if you want to go to this party that one of my friends is hosting , maybe I can show you off this time" .

"show me off" you smirked , you didn't wanna be shown off you wanna show off Maxxie instead he's the one who needs to be shown off he look like an angel ( a horny angel ) .

"come on were gonna have so much fun , you , me , making out ? what do you think ?"

"I won't say no to that !!!" you pulled him closer and held his waist , you glanced down at him , and oh my god , Maxxie is looking up at you with those 'eyes' , he look to cute and hot not to mess with .

you pulled him in and smashed your lips together as you took Maxxie by surprise , you feel him relax as he threw his arms on your neck and kept kissing you .

you took you hands off his waist and pull his shirt off his head .

"You really wanna do it here ?" Maxxie asked while panting and his lips rosy .

"of course not , you get hurt while on this table well just have to wait till the party , but I need some help tho - " as you looked down at your member , you gulp and look at Maxxie .

"Alright but its a preview to tonight " as he winked at me .

He got down on his knees and started slow and palmed your clothed member , it felt good as his small hands massaged you Member , you moaned and looked down at Maxxie and pulled his head closer to your member .

"Your eager " , "come on babe , you gotta use your mouth it will help better "

he looked up at you with those 'eyes' again and opened the zipper of your pants with his teeth , you moaned at the sight he looked too hot , he took your Member out and palmed the head of your member as you kept moaning his name over and over again .

"god , Maxxie .... ahh , God baby I need your mouth " Maxxie looked at you and licked the head of your member , you felt ecstatic as he kept kitten lick the head of you member as you pushed his head to take your length .

"Never thought that ill be sucking off the heartthrob of out college " "less talking and more sucking babe" you pushed his mouth onto your member roughly as Maxxie gaged at the length of you cock .

"ah ... that felt good baby , your so beautiful like this , gotta make you my ahh , my slut more often " "mhhm" "what you like me calling you my slut , gotta make you mine before that friend of yours beats me too it "

You kept pushing his head more roughly as Maxxie kept sucking you off , his mouth feels ethereal he's better than all the girls i've been with .

" I have to tie you up so no can take you away from me , you like that being my Own slut to fuck with" "mhghhhm" Maxxie had tears on his face as he look upon you he looks so ruined that you felt your climax nearing , you held his head in place as you kept pushing your cock inside of his mouth .

You've thrusted you cock as fast as you could as your climax was nearing , you haven't told Maxxie as you nearly came .

You moaned as you shoot you load down his throat , you held his head in place and as you felt you felt you were done you pulled his head of your cock and looked down at Maxxie.

*Gulp* "that was mhm delicious " "That was hot as fuck" " told you this was only a preview " You pulled him up on his legs and pulled him near you "you look hot as you swallowed my load , Gotta make you do that more often" as you winked at him and kissed him while pulling him outside so the both of you can ge ready to the party , as he leaned down to pick up his stuff .

you smacked his ass and said "Can't wait to ruin this one too" he got up and smirked at you as you two continued your way to your car .

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've Been trying to write for skins for a long Time but I didn't know where to write (Wattpad , AO3) so tumblr is the best choice for a one-shot !!!! so here you go

#cassie skins #skins effy #skins uk #gay skins #skins maxxie #maxxie oliver #tony stonem #sid jenkins #michelle richardson #cassie ainsworth #skins x male reader #male reader #male oc #skins x reader #oneshot #maxxie x male reader

62 notes · View notes

ashsimpsalot · 3 months

Text

Beedi with my cheeni (Teen!Kid X Teen!Reader)

Tw: smoking

A/n: I know this is anwar but teen dev is technically teen Kid sooooooo. Also as someone who smoked and struggle to quit DO NOT SMOKE, KIDS

You're trying your best to uphold the "good student" reputation you have. Your eyes pinned on the class's clock as if it personally betrayed you.

It's almost time to go home, not for you though, you're supposed to go to that stupid additional classes for gifted kids.

Your eyes trailed from the clock to look at the whiteboard.

You have to focus otherwise you'd have to study all these by yourself and you just can't be bothered!

Your focus on Miss Raji was diverted once a random crumpled piece of paper spawned on your table. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned to your right, looking at the tight face of your favourite boy. You raised your eyebrows and he, with his straight face, tilted his head towards the direction of the paper.

You turned and smoothened the paper to see what's written inside.

'beedi tonight?' written in his pretty handwriting.

A small smile creeped up on you, your free hand had lifted itself to toy with the tip of your uniform's collar. You turned back at him and sticked out your tongue then turned to look at the teacher again leaving Kid confused.

After class, he trailed behind you, pulling lightly at your bag once he reached you.

"yessss, devu?" you turned around and smiled. He pushed the overwhelming feeling from his heart to his stomach, he can't let it all spill out, all that from the childhood nickname that his mom used to call him. Now only belong to your lips.

Kid looked around before looking down at you. "tonight?" he looked like a kicked puppy, how dare you give him a vague answer?

You chuckled and nodded "yea yea, just wait for me there, I'll be there." you said nonchalantly, eyes searching around the hallway before your hand roam up to his tie, chuckling and pulling his tie while leading it into one of the empty classrooms.

"cheeni..?" Kid's confused but relaxed once you held his cheeks in your hands, squished them a little before planting a kiss on his soft lips. You chuckled when you hear a small whine form him when you pulled away.

"for a tall and scary man, you're really clingy," you teased before exiting the classroom, leaving Kid confused, blushed and alone.

Usually you would walk with him back to the orphanage but because of your extra classes, he had to walk alone and simultaneously in charge walking the little ones back with him.

"Bhaiyaa!" he heard multiple high pitched voices once he walked near the primary school's bus stop. He smiled a little but not enough to be noticed unless you're squinting... Or is his girl.

Kid simply offered his hand to the assigned leader of the little people pack and he gladly took it. Creating a line of kids holding each other's hand to go back to their orphanage together lead by.. Kid.

"where's sundar didi?" mid walking, one of the kids asked, the kid asking is being carried on his shoulders because the tiny guy claimed that his feet hurt.

"hmmm didi went to a special class. It's for smart people," he explained with pride in his voice. His cheeni is a genius and he's proud.

Once they're back in the orphanage he followed the routine he's been doing for almost 7 years. Queue to bathe, eat dinner in the small dining hall, help the little ones with their homework, does his own homework, go to bed.

Well at least tonight, pretend to go to bed.

Once the care givers checked on them, he carefully creep out of the door, walking as quiet as he can and going to the abandoned building behind the orphanage, climbing onto some railing and ending up on the roof.

"boo!" you jumped out and tried to scare him. Kid looked stunned but there's no sound from him.

You let out a big laugh. "oh my God! The colour in your face dissappeared! you should've seen yourself, bandhar."

Kid's stunned face formed a small smile, he pulled you in and kissed your forehead, nose and then twice on your lips.

"you got me there," he mumbled into your hair. You chuckled, face pressed onto his chest, shamelessly sniffing his sweet scent in. Your hand roamed to his rear and pulled the small plastic packet out his pocket, only pulling away after giving his ass a little tap.

Which earning a yelp by him making you laugh slightly.

"beeediiii, where'd you get them this time?" you asked with a smile, feeling his arms wrapped around your waist, swaying you with him from left to right slowly and his smile widen.

"first years, I comfiscated them," he chuckled when you gave him a shocked look.

"ouh! The prefect is misusing his powers!" you laughed and held his hand, leading him to the blanket you'd laid down on the floor, you laid down and took of his shoes, you just smiled and waited for him. Kid laid down, head to head, he turned his head slightly to kiss at your forehead, he trailed down to kiss your nose then you lifted your head so he can access your lips.

He took out one perfectly rolled beedi from the bag and light it up, giving it a little drag before passing it to you.

You looked at it and chuckle. "I know you didn't roll this by yourself." he turned to look at you.

"why's that?"

You sit up and looked at him. "come on, baby, don't lie to me, I know you so so well, it's okay to say you can't roll."

Kid tried to act like he's offended but he himself knew that you were only telling the truth.

You smiled and took one drag and playfully blows the smoke at his face. Kid just smiled. He's got his eyes closed while your own were pinned on the moon. You sighed before decided to bite the bullet.

"you've been a little distant," you said, twirling the beedi on between your thumb and index fingers. He might be clinging to you but his kisses doesn't linger as long, his touches ate held back, it makes you crave him.

He didn't say anything but the way he sucked in a sharp breath notified you that he indeed heard you.

"why is that?" you asked, still not taking your eyes off of the bright moon.

"cheeni," he said almost annoyed that you're bringing this up.

"no tell me, what is it?" you demanded, sitting up straight to loons t him.

He sighed, finally opening his eyes and sat accros you.

"you're a smart girl... And you're not taking the scholarship because of me."

You groaned. "this again?"

"yes, this again. Do you realise the potential you're letting go?" he asked you, his face now a little desperate.

You took a drag of the beedi and shook your head. "I'm a smart girl, yes, but there's too many smart people in India, especially in the field of what's offered to me. Baby, engineering? Do you know how severely underpaid engineers are here? Why should I continue my studies into that field? Because of a scholarship?" you asked him, trying to get him to grasp your perspective.

"but the company offering the scholarship has overseas branches, I made my research," he said, fidgeting with his fingers.

"what? You want me to work outside?" you asked in disbelief. "if I knew this scholarship would bother you so much I wouldn't have joined that stupid learners program,"

He throw his arms up, his frustrations were flowing through. "see?! You're holding yourself back because of me!"

You groaned and shook your head. "I'm not! I don't want that life. I want our plan, I want you, Mumbai, I want to open that small coffee shop we've been talking about. I don't want anything else! Just a small apartment with you, a small life," you replied just as frustrated.

He was silent for a few minutes before sighing, his knees had been pulled to be against his chest. He opened his mouth. "and when the apartment gets too small? And the money gets too tight? Would you come back to this moment and regret choosing that life.. Choosing me. Because of me." his voice small and tired.

"I can't give you more, you came from more, you deserve more, you could achieve more,"

You sighed, this isn't about the scholarship.

You pulled his knees away, settling in his lap and hugging him tight.

"you stupid monkey, I told you, I don't want more. I want you," he's pressed his head on your chest, you mumbled into his curls.

"I just want you. Can you let me do that? Have you?" you asked, pulling away, carefully lifted his chin with your hand, holding the beedi away from him in fear of accidentally hurting him.

"yeah.. I'm sorry, cheeni," he mumbled, brown eyes looking up to you making you lost in its depth. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, nose then twice in his lips.

"Just you, you, understand? You," you whispered in between kisses and he nodded.

"Just us," he replied

#Spotify #kid monkey man #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man x reader #dev patel #monkey man fluff #monkey man imagine

48 notes · View notes

royalsunshinehotel · 7 months

Note

Filthy smut abt jay/anwar with a dom gf that makes them genuinely overstimulated up to shivering/quivering point 🧍🧍🧍

Loml (Jay x f!reader, 18+)

Hey you 💕 It's my birthday today and I'm not having a good one. I've requested one fic for Jay Menha before and it was perfect! If was wondering if I can request another Jay fic? It can be whatever you want. Thank you, so, sooo much for bringing me such joy with your Rahul Kohli and Dev Patel fics 💜💜💜💜💜

A/N: It could be longer, could be filthier, but I'm still getting back into the swing of things. Enjoy xx

Jay Menha, since the moment you met, had been the epitome of a good boy. This had been demonstrated through your years-long relationship at him somehow finding a way to get every door for you. He carried your bags whenever his hands were free, and for you, they'd always be free.

And now he was underneath you, fighting for his life.

You didn't remember how exactly this disagreement started, but you weren't exactly wracking your brain to figure out how. He was completely bare underneath you, and you'd had the fantastic idea of keeping his member between the folds of you. He'd finished just a minute ago, stick and wet between the two of you, and you weren't intending on letting up.

Jay was so pretty when he pants, when he begs for you.

He leaned right up and you gave him a mean kiss, one that gets a loud, wet whine. He's so stoic, it's lovely that he can be safe with you. In a moment of inspiration, you take your teeth to his lower lip, and

He was throbbing, whining, trying not to let the frustration bubble up and out of him. You've got your fingers intertwined, tightly, as you ground down onto him

He was so pathetic, trying to speak. You knew Jay, better than anyone, and the look in his eyes when he was trying to get words out ... oh... he's such a romantic your heart could barely handle it.

Big, soft cow eyes staring up at you like you were the only woman in the world, wet eyes that want to promise you the moon, and deliver.

A dull squelch ekes out of your pussy, and it only makes you ride him harder, the pressure of your clit on the base of his cock? Immaculate.

The air was buzzing, Jay had long since lost track of time, the pleasant feeling under his skin, threatening to escape had taken hold.

Your lovely, your skin, your warmth your smell, and he smiled, which you return with all teeth, leaning down to bite his neck. You didn't stop until you tasted iron, just the way he likes.

You growled, like a proper succubus.

His moan was loud in your ear, his hair tickled your nose. He'd been letting it grow long, and you would never allow him to cut it again.

It was too much, and absolutely beautiful, feeling his hardness break into heat underneath you. Pathetic, you thought, what a sticky mess.

He twitched and shook under the prison of your thighs, gasping and twitching, fearing his heart would burst from his chest.

You'd nearly killed him, again. And you'd proceed to do so throughout the night.

You were absolutely evil, some sort of avenging goddess who saw fit to take what she wanted from him, and Jay fully intended to lay down and be of use to you.

That's all he wants really, to be of use to you.

#whatever souls are made of his and mine are the same #jay x reader #jay menha #the wedding guest #the wedding guest 2019 #sanjay menha #jay menha smut

93 notes · View notes

i-care-4u · 2 years

Note

i would like to request a jack fic where either him and reader are both famous and dating, and while he’s on tour everyone starts talking about him and dua. OR him and reader are close friends and everyone knows they like each other, but nothing is official yet and reader sees him and dua getting close ? i LOVE angst btw (happy ending pls) thanks love !

CELEBRITY CRUSH | J.HARLOW

PAIR: JACK HARLOW X FAMOUS!READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

you and jack were going to attend this years variety’s hitmakers as each other’s plus ones. you were famous in your own right, doing acting as well as occasionally doing modeling. because this event had to do with music, you were basically jack’s plus one for the night.

tonight, you arrived wearing a long beautiful dress while jack wore a matching set. comparing each other, it made jack look like the janitor.

you two got a table and enjoyed the privacy that they had for a while.

you leaned in, getting closer to jack, “so who’s arriving again?”

jack harlow started listing big names, “selena gomez, omar apollo, dua lipa-”

your eyes widened when he mentioned dua lipa. you didn’t mind her, in fact, you’ve met her before at a versace fashion show. she was one of the sweetest and prettiest people that you’ve met during fashion week. however, knowing that jack made a song about her made things awkward between the three of you.

soon, more people started arriving, and they started greeting you and jack.

“y/n!”

“hey jack, congrats man!”

“oh my god, look at you two!”

you and jack continued greeting and hugging everyone until jack left. jack got off his chair to hug a familiar face from the industry. “i’ll be right back.”

fifteen through twenty minutes have passed by, and no sign of jack. “maybe everyone wants to catch up with him,” you thought.

you got off your seat as well, leaving the table empty. you didn’t want to be that person, so you tried finding a person that you knew to ask where jack is. you started looking around the tables, eventually finding your friend and singer, omar apollo.

“omar,” you called, “come here.”

omar came up to you, “hi y/n, what’s up?”

“you know how i arrived with jack? do you know where he is?”

before he answered, the two of you were blocked by cameras.

“omar! y/n! look!”

“smile!”

as soon as the cameramen left, omar answered your questioned, “he’s still talking to dua, they’ve been at it for almost half an hour.”

“thank you omar,” you told him, giving him a hug before sitting at your table. you knew things already got awkward from there.

when jack came back, you decided not to bring it up during the event, but rather after. you and jack were driving to the hotel when you started the conversation.

“where were you when you left?”

“i was meeting everyone, and i even met the dua lipa.”

“really? how was it?”

“we had a long conversation.”

“that’s fun,” you sounded very uninterested suddenly, and deep inside you felt jealous. not only jack met dua in person, but she was one of his celebrity crushes.

although you and jack were close friends, it was only recently that you and him started to get flirtatious with other. you had to admit that you developed a crush on him even though it was never official. this goes the same to jack, who had a crush on you way before you did, but never had the chance to confess.

“everything alright, y/n? you seem bored of my shit.”

“i’m fine, just tired.”

“tired of hearing me talk about dua? y/n, it’s just a celebrity crush, calm down,” jack raised his voice, “you don’t hear me complaining about you and andrew garfield.”

“jack, i just admire his work, okay?”

“so i can’t say the same thing towards dua?”

“yeah, but you two were so close,” you pulled up a picture of jack and dua, with the headline reading, “dua lipa dating jack harlow after split with anwar hadid.”

“see for yourself,” you passed your phone to him.

“no, this can’t be happening,” jack gave your phone back, “y/n, you know our relationship isn’t like that, me and dua are just industry friends.”

“what are you going to do about it?”

the remaining of the day was a mess between jack and his team. jack called his publicist several times before eventually picking up in the evening.

“hello?”

“hi, can you explain why you’re promoting a relationship that isn’t even real? we just met a couple times, that’s it.”

“jack, it’s simple. if people see two of the hottest things together, it makes money.”

“so me and y/n aren’t enough?”

“you know y/n isn’t like that.”

“and so am i.”

jack meant that about you. you were mysterious in a way, and no one really knows what’s going on in that head of yours except for jack. he enjoyed being in your company and getting to know you better than anyone else.

the next day, jack decided to take you out on a simple lunch date. you guys wore a casual outfit, nothing fancy.

“you didn’t have to do this for me,” you said as you entered the restaurant. you and jack sat down in a table to talk things through.

“about us,” jack starts explaining, “i know we’re something more than friends. since the day we’ve met, i knew you had something the others don’t. you have the charm, the humor, you’re an it girl in my eye.”

you paused him to say something straightforward, “what you’re trying to say is that you like me?”

“always have.”

“then why didn’t you say it earlier?”

“i was scared y/n,” jack said, “i was scared that something bad was going to happen between us two if i confessed that i love you.”

you smiled at him, “well look at us now, boyfriend. nothing bad.”

later that night, magazines began debunking the rumor of jack and dua lipa dating each other. in replacement, the same magazines began confirming the relationship between you and jack two days after. and it was that quick too due to a fan entering that same restaurant that you and jack did. i guess you could thank the die hard fans for it.

580 notes · View notes

theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

Do You Want Me, Cyar'ika [dark]

Dark!Din Djarin x Jedi!Female Reader

Warnings: HEY THIS IS DARK WATCH OUT, stalking, manhandling, slight choking if you kind of squint, dubcon (reader is willing, but is def under the influence of the darksaber), smut, hand job, unprotected sex (p in v), mentions of blood and injury, ruthless murder

Word Count: 5,136

Summary: Din Djarin is a man who lost everything. His home, his son, his Creed. But at the end of the day, he still had you. He still had you, and he was determined to keep you. Part One: Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika Part Two: I Love You, Cyar'ika

[a/n: THIS IS THE DARK ENDING TO THIS TRILOGY. My suggestion is to read the version you really want first b/c the beginning half is the exact same. It's only the end that differs.]

"she's hell, he's the devil⏤ the demons see no end to this love." -amber anwar

The echoing of your footsteps bounced off the walls and the quick pace seemed to match the racing of your heart. No looking back. You needed to get to the tarmac. Din was supposed to be in the war room with Bo Katan and the others in his council discussing something or another. This morning he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to meet you for lunch until a bit later in the afternoon. Half an hour after he had told you this, you grabbed your stuff and started running.

You had the right idea months ago when you first tried to leave. This was going to be your last chance. If he caught you this time you don’t know that you’d ever get the chance to run away again. Memories of that beskar chain and anklet hung heavy in your mind as you picked up your pace. A terrifying thought occurred to you. Would he stop there? How far would Din go to keep you by his side? You truly believed, deep down, that Din wouldn’t hurt you, but… were you just being delusional? At some point, he’d consider the line to be crossed.

The tarmac was mostly empty. The few Mandalorians that were in the area gave you curious looks, but nobody dared stop you. That was a side effect of being ‘owned’ by the Mand’alor and though you found it disturbing previously it was truly working in your favor now. Everybody on this rock, save for a few people like Bo Katan, were too terrified of Din to even look in your direction for longer than a few seconds. As you sprinted to the closest ship you knew how to pilot, the Mandalorians began to disperse. You had a suffocating suspicion that they were in the process of calling Din.

You made it further than you had last time. You were on the ship, ramp closing behind you, and you clambered into the cockpit and got things running. As the ship slowly began to rise, you saw him. Din stood at the edge of the tarmac with his hands on his hips. The wind tunneling through the ship’s exhaust and down onto the ground below caused Din’s thick cape and hair to whip around. Even from this distance, you could feel Din’s gaze burning straight through you. The look on his face was haunting⏤ a mix of devastation and unbridled rage. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Even after the ship was in the atmosphere and Din was far out of view, you stared down at Mandalore in pain. Your chest ached as your heart already begun to miss the man you were running from.

Before allowing yourself to wallow, you input the coordinates to Tatooine and let the ship slip into hyperdrive. The second those all too familiar lines of blurred space cast a blue glow in the cockpit, you pulled your knees up into your chest to bury your face there. If somebody were to ask you the exact reason why tears streamed down your face you would not be able to give them an answer.

You just knew, everything was wrong.

You agonized over who to send a message to. As you drew ever near to Tatooine, doubts began to plague your mind. Should you reach out to Boba and Fennec? They were obvious choices because they cared about Din and they knew how to hold their own in a fight. However, you had a nagging fear at the back of your mind that would not silence. It blared like a ghostly siren. Din was not himself right now, and though you knew without a doubt that he would not hurt you, could the same be said for Boba and Fennec? Especially if they stood in the way of Din getting to you?

You hated that you were unsure of that.

You hated that a part of you honestly thought Din might hurt his friends or worse.

There was no changing course though. The best solution you had was to get in touch with Luke Skywalker. He might have answers about this. Even if he didn’t, having him and Ahsoka by your side would help. Three Jedi surely could get that cursed saber away from Din. Granted, there was no assurance that separating the saber from the love of your life would actually work, but it was all you had. It was the last bit of hope you could cling to.

Upon your arrival to Tatooine, you immediately slunk away to a crowded cantina. You were not a fool. You knew Din was not just going to let you wander away and you knew he was one of the deadliest bounty hunters in the galaxy. He was very good at what he did⏤ especially when passionate about the mission. That didn’t leave you very much time to get the information you needed.

You sent out a decoded distress message to the number Skywalker had left you when he took Grogu. He left it strictly for emergencies and this obviously classified as one. After it was out in the universe, all you could do was wait. So you saddled up to the bar, sat on a stool, and ordered a drink. It was all you could think to do. This was the first time in ages that you were in a space not clouded by Din’s presence. You hadn’t realized until now how suffocating it had been.

Being with Din, watching his slow descent, you had gotten accustomed to that cloud of darkness that hung over his head. To the point where you didn’t notice it worsening and worsening. It felt as if your body had acclimated to living under the ocean. Your body grew used to the crushing depths. Your lungs shriveled from the lack of oxygen. Your eyes grew blind from the absence of light. Now? Sitting at this dingy, dirty bar, it was as if someone had forced you up from the ocean floor and dragged you quickly up to the surface. It was jarring. The fresh air was painful as it filled your lungs, your eyes burned from the disappearance of darkness, and suddenly it was freedom that felt wrong.

A sudden beeping made you glance down at the communicator. Eyes wide, you answered it, “Hello? Luke Skywalker?” Your name was spoken over the line in concern. “Thank the Maker. I⏤ Din and I are in trouble.”

“What has happened?”

“It’s…” You took in a slow breath and began to walk him through what was going on. You started with the moment he took Grogu and described every single downward step the two of you had taken with the saber in his possession. When you finished, your throat felt thick with emotion. “I got away, but he’ll be after me soon. I know it. Luke, I… I don’t know what to do. I just know I need help, and I’m too afraid to go to anybody other than you.”

“You were right to reach out to me.” Luke sighed. “This needs to be handled by us. No need to risk anyone else.”

The thought flickered through your head without warning. You were okay with putting Luke Skywalker and Ahsoka in danger. It came quickly and you swatted it away just as fast, but it felt like poison. Obviously, Boba and Fennec meant more to you than Luke and Ahsoka. You were closer to the first two. However, it still didn’t make risking the lives of the latter two okay. The fact that the belief attempted to nestle in your head reminded you of the dark saber. Your hand wrapped around your own lightsaber⏤ seeking comfort in the energy it radiated.

“You believe he’ll follow you, correct?” Luke questioned.

“Absolutely.” You answered without an ounce of hesitation.

Luke hummed on the other end of the line in thought. “I will send you coordinates. Come to us. The Mandalorian will follow and we will handle this from there. You just need to get here. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, trying to convince yourself. “I can. I’ll leave as soon as you send me those coordinates.”

“Of course. Call us again if you have trouble.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended and you threw back the remainder of the drink before rushing for the door. It would take fifteen minutes to get to the tarmac and you assumed you’d get the coordinates by then to use. The crowded Tatooine streets made you anxious. Shoulders clipped into yours as people rushed past you in the opposite direction. It felt like there were eyes burning into your skin, but every scan of the crowd told you it had to just be your paranoia.

Your communicator beeped again and a quick glance down revealed the coordinates you’d be heading to. Good. You quickened your pace to turn a corner to the last leg of the path that would take you to the public tarmac when you spotted him. A flash of glinting silver under the hot Tatooine suns. Your feet came to a screeching halt, and for a moment the two of you stood stock still. Din was down the road. Closer to the tarmac’s entrance than to you. His hands rested on his hips, and he was helmetless. Even from this distance the darkness swimming in his brown eyes sent a chill down your spine. He had been a sight to behold in his full armor, a faceless figure of intimidation. However, you knew now that it was worse without the helmet. Actually seeing those burning eyes, rather than just feel them, made your stomach flip.

The crowd ebbed and flowed, a small group passing between the two of you, and when they passed fully Din was gone. You couldn’t see him. Without a second more of hesitation, you spun on your heel and sprinted in the opposite direction of where he had been standing. The public tarmac was a bust. You’d never be able to successfully route yourself back around, but you still needed a ship.

Peli’s shop. As soon as it came to mind, you altered course to head in that direction. You prayed that Peli wasn’t home. Hopefully she’d be out losing credits to a group of jawas in sabbac or conning some poor sap at the market. Your chest burned in the effort it took to keep your quick pace, your heart pounded painfully, and you could still feel Din’s eyes on you. Every time you glanced over your shoulder or down alleys there was no sign of silver, but you knew⏤ you just knew⏤ that he was hot on your heels somehow.

You finally reached Peli’s shop and the garage was closed which meant she was not home, but you remembered the way in through the back. Peli had shown it to you and Din ages ago. Even if she didn’t have a client’s ship sitting in the bay, you could steal her land speeder and come up with a different plan from there. Once in, your eyes landed on a small ship parked in the main bay and your lips curled up into a relieved smile. Find the FOB, get the ship open and started. You rushed to Peli’s office and cursed the wrecked state it was in. Her baseline was chaotic and it showed in her organization choices. You dug through the mess until you found a FOB that seemed to match the ship waiting for you.

Victorious, you sprinted out of the office back down to the bay, but the second your feet stepped into the open area something hard slammed into you. The air was knocked from your lungs as you landed on the ground. Din’s features stared down at you as his body straddled yours. One of his gloved hands pinned down your dominant hand while the other clamped down on your throat⏤ not enough to restrict air, but just enough to convey his warning. You could see your fearful eyes reflected in the beskar covering him as he towered over you. Din’s face didn’t look angry or worried. He didn’t look scared or confused. Din looked cold. Emotionless. Somehow that was worse.

“Din⏤”

“Don’t.” Din said sharply. The fingers on your neck flexed once. “Don’t speak, cyar’ika.”

More suffocating than his demeanor and broad figure was the poisonous energy seeping out of the saber hung on his belt. You were drowning in it, struggling to keep your head above it’s dark waters, and Din was pushing you beneath the waves. He held you under. Din was a man drowning and in your attempt to rescue him he was dragging you to the depths as well.

“How could you do this to me?” Din asked. His voice cracked⏤ the only sign of his pain. “Cyar’ika, you…” Din swallowed. A flash of heartbreak filled his expressive brown eyes and the degree of his hurt briefly made you feel guilty. Like you had been the one to betray him. “I love you. You are my everything. I would burn the world for you. How could⏤ How could you leave?”

“I never asked for you to burn the world for me, Din.” You whispered. “That’s not what I want.”

Din shifted and leaned down so he could rest his forehead against yours. His hand hung loosely around your throat, forearm pressed against your chest, and it was a position your body was familiar with. If you closed your eyes and gave into the darkness trying to claw its way down your throat and into your lungs, then you’d simply feel like you were sharing a private moment of intimacy with your love. Din’s lips suddenly ghosted against yours and you felt your body tremble.

“What is it you want?” Din begged. “I will give you anything. I just want you safe by my side.”

“I told you what I want, Din…”

Din sighed, his hot breath fanning across your lower face, “I can’t do that.” His voice was strained as if her were in agony. “The saber is how I protect you, cyar’ika.”

“You’re losing me because of that saber, baby.”

For the longest moment, Din remained silent. His eyes were closed and you could see him ruminating over something. After a second, he opened his eyes and Din’s eyebrows furrowed in defeat. A flicker of hope burned in your chest until he opened his mouth and spoke.

“Things were okay. We just need to start from scratch again. I know you hated that chain, cyar’ika, but it’s for the best.” Din said softly and your eyes widened at how serious his words were. How much he believed that to truly be the best path. “It won’t be forever, I swear it. Just until I trust you again.”

“Din⏤”

“No.” Din snapped. His soft despair turning to a firm demand. “There will be no argument. I’m taking you home.” You opened your mouth once more, but Din’s fingers began to tighten around your throat marginally. “You’re already in trouble, cyar’ika. Don’t make it worse.”

Panic began to make your heart race. You were sinking fast and the light was beginning to disappear from your sight⏤ your freedom with it. In a poor attempt at a final chance of survival, you spoke up despite his order to stay silent. “I just wanted to say sorry.”

Din scoffed. “You understand why I find it hard to believe you.”

“I know.” You nodded. “Please, baby. I’m sorry. Please believe me. You know I love you.”

You could feel Din’s thumb around your neck tracing the skin under it as he stared down at you. He took in a deep breath and leaned in to press his forehead against yours once more. Din brushed his lips lightly against yours. “You’re always so pretty when you beg, cyar’ika.” That was the one thing you had working in your favor. Din always had a hard time telling you ‘no’ when your bodies were folded together like this. “I’ll hear you out, but let’s get to our ship first.”

“Why not now? Let me tell you how sorry I am, Din.” You begged and he let out a soft sigh as his eyes closed. Your eyes darted to the saber on his belt. If you ended up back on Mandalore it would be over. There would be no second chance. Determined, you rolled your hips up and just as you suspected you were met with the firmness of his half hard cock. Din groaned. “Let me show you how sorry I am.” Your non-dominant hand had been clutching at the hand he had at your throat, but you very slowly let it travel up his arm to bury in his soft hair. “Please, baby.”

You tilted your head up as much as you could with Din’s hand clamped around your neck. Carefully, in fear that too quick or sudden a movement would break the spell, you began to pull Din down closer. Din hesitated against the slight force of your hand only for a second before he slotted his lips against yours. As always, Din’s touch set you aflame. He released the wrist he had pinned and hooked that hand under your thigh to spread your legs so he could settle between them rather than straddle you. You should be focused on escape alone, but the taste of him made you hungry for more. You weren’t sure how much was your love for Din and how much was the saber twisting it into something recognizable.

Din’s teeth caught your lower lip, and he pulled back a breath, “You’re supposed to be showing me how sorry you are, cyar’ika.” He leaned back down to lick into your mouth, his kiss crushing and near painful as Din’s hips pressed firmly against yours. He left his lips close enough that you felt every word he spoke. “Yet here I am…” Din gave a sharp thrust and even with layers of clothes between the two of you he was able to snap the bulge of his erection right where your clit was hidden. You gasped at the pleasure that rocketed up your spine as hot pangs arousal pooled in your lower belly. “...doing all the damn work.”

At his words, you closed the space to press your lips against his again, deepening the kiss, as your hands traveled to his belt. You undid his belt with practiced ease, and while one hand slipped under the waistband of his flight suit to find the base of his cock the other went to grasp the saber.

Your fingers brushed against the thrumming metal of the saber for only a second before Din’s hand slapped on top of yours pinning it to the saber. Everything froze. Din and you were both panting, breathless from your kiss. You had one hand stuffed into his pants with your hand pressed against his skin on the space above the base of his cock and the other on the saber. Din had one hand tightening around your neck while his other crushed your fingers against the darksaber. He chuckled and the sound sent chills throughout your body.

“Let go, Cyar’ika.” Din’s voice was gruff and seemed to rumble out from his chest. You began to try and pull both hands back, but Din grunted. “Not both. Just the saber.” You sucked in a sharp breath and remained frozen. “What? You don’t want to finish what you started?” He shoved one hand down his pants to roughly grab yours and force your hand to wrap around the entirety of his throbbing cock. It was like this tense moment was spurning him onwards⏤ filling him with a thrill you had never seen before. “I thought you were sorry.”

You hated how his words made your own core ache with want.

Din snapped the saber off his belt tossed it off to the side. Too far for you too reach, but close enough that its influence weighed heavy on you still. He did the same to your own weapon which was hooked in its usual place on your belt. Din threw that one further, more carelessly, before lowering his face back down toward yours. His hand was still wrapped around yours, and Din thrusted into your dry grip. It couldn't be comfortable you thought, but Din moaned in your ear as if it were already drunk in pleasure.

“Din…” You murmured.

His hot mouth enveloped yours, tongue licking into you, as he thrusted twice more. Din’s teeth caught your lower lip again, but this time he bit down hard enough that the taste of metallic blood flashed across your taste buds. You yelped, he thrusted into your grip, and then Din pulled back just enough that you could see his lips painted with the red of your own blood.

“Are you going to make me take you?” He asked in a harsh whisper. “Or will you come willingly?” Din pressed his bloodstained lips against the side of your face, dragging, and you shuddered as a cold, but tempting, chill filled your body. “I’ll spend eternity chasing you, cyar’ika, but it will be more enjoyable if you just agree to be mine again.”

His lips found yours once more, and for one second you weren’t in your body. Your mind clouded with a sort of vision. You saw Din sitting on Mandalore’s throne splattered with blood he had drawn from others and his features masked in a cold indifference. The saber was not on his belt, but any confusion you had on it’s location faded as a different version of you came into view. She wore an elegant and revealing gown that was as dark as a starless night, and the inactive saber was held tight in her grip as blood covered her hands and left a trail of red petals as she passed. While Din’s face held a cold indifference this version of you looked feral with enjoyment.

She settled herself on Din’s lap and the mask he wore cracked to reveal adoration as he stared up at this other you in awe. Without wasting a beat, this unrecognizable version of yourself pulled Din into a firm kiss. The blood on the hands that resembled yours smeared against his stainless beskar, and the blood on his face left smears along features you spent your entire life staring at in a mirror. Suddenly, the other you broke away to turn and it seemed she was glaring directly at you.

The saber in her hand activated and burned with a soul sucking energy that seemed to draw you in.

“Be mine.” Din’s voice snapped you back into the moment. “Be my queen, cyar’ika. I want no else.” He pressed his lips to yours again but in a way that was too soft to match the rest of this situation. The tip of his tongue dragged through the torn tissue of your lower lip and you shivered. “Let me protect you as you rule by my side.”

And you wanted it. It was like your body had finally reached the lowest depths and your lungs were filling with the dark water you were drowning in. It was almost peaceful allowing yourself to settle into the cold⏤ allowing it to swallow you whole. Distantly, you could feel the crystal in your lightsaber desperately calling out to you, but you were certain no light could reach you where you were. Cold turned to pleasure as Din’s hands began to map the familiar planes of your body.

“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered. Din molded his lips to yours and he pulled your hand out from where it was hidden under his waistband so he could have to room and access to begin frantically undoing your own belt. You lifted your hips so he could tug your pants down past your ass and off entirely. He didn’t bother with his own pants, deciding to just tug them down enough to be useful, and Din settled between your legs. As he worked himself out of his pants he planted his lips against the hollow of your neck.

You tilted your chin up, panting, as you gave him more room to work his tongue against the skin there. Every atom of your being was throbbing and aching for the man on top of you, but briefly a glimmer of pain lanced through your heart. A reminder. You thought you were too deep in for the light to reach you, but your lightsaber’s call managed one faint echo. A weak lifeline back to the surface. Without thinking, your hand reached reached out to where the sabers were cast aside and for the first time in your life you felt the Force do more than just read an energy. It enveloped the space around you and seconds later something firm was in the palm of your hand.

You cried out, managing to roll Din and yourself over so you now straddled him. The saber activated in your hand and rather than the warm familiar glow you wanted, you were greeted by the soul sucking, burning energy of the darksaber lighting up in your hands. Your eyes widened in alarm. The power that washed over you was overwhelming. It rocketed up your arm and pierced your very soul. Din laid on the ground under you as you stared at the cold glow of the saber burning in your hands, and you heard him begin to laugh in amusement.

“Maker, you’ve never looked prettier, cyar’ika.” Din grinned⏤ the look in his dark eyes was wild with desire. “How does it feel?”

Your skin was crawling as if someone was holding a live wire to it. A tremor shook your body as your lips began to twitch up in raw pleasure. This felt wonderful. You had never felt more powerful and strong. It filled you with so much confidence that you didn’t even mind the bloodlust that came with it. Slowly, you lowered the saber so it was hovered over Din’s throat. He didn’t flinch or blink. In fact, as your free hand grasped the hair on top of his head roughly you felt his cock twitch under you.

You gave his hair a slight tug, lifting his chin to tilt up, and Din chuckled, “Do you want me, Cyar’ika?”

“What I want,” You smirked and leaned down so even you could feel the heat radiating from the darksaber’s cold burning against your own skin, “is for you to open your mouth, baby.” Din did so without hesitation and you spat between his open lips possessively. Another tug on his dark locks and your love closed his mouth to swallow. “My King. So good for me.”

You shifted your hands so they were planted on either side of Din’s head. The saber rested on the dirt floor of Peli’s garage⏤ dangerously close to your lover. Din didn’t seem to mind in the slightest as his hands grasped your hips tightly. He lifted a knee to shove you closer to him while also lifting you up. You followed the momentum, letting your hips hover over him so he could work your underwear aside, and you slammed your lips against his. The kiss was rough. A clash of teeth and a fight for dominance. You felt the tip of his cock prod against your clit and you gasped. Din used it as a way to take control of the kiss. His tongue shoving into your mouth and keeping your own confined. Before you could regain the slight upper hand you lost, Din dragged his tip through your slick then roughly yanked your hips down onto him. You cried out as you felt his entire length stretch and fill you.

The entire time that you and Din got lost in one another, the darksaber burned brightly only inches away. Din fucked up into you brutally as you chased that carnal release in the shadows cast from the saber’s cold flame. The darksaber sung in victory, content and prideful, as the lightsaber left inactive in the dirt a few feet away screamed in mourning. If you focused your attention you’d be able to hear both, but currently the only sound you could focus on was the way your cries of pleasure mingled with Din’s grunts of fulfillment.

[six months later]

You straddled Din’s lap, your thighs poking out from the slits alongside your dark gown, and as Din barked out in Mando’a to the crowd at your back you continued to pepper the skin of his neck with soft kisses. There was a pause in your King’s lecture and you let your teeth drag against the tight tendon under his skin before licking up to press another kiss behind his ear. Din trembled under your touch and you chuckled against him.

“Please! I’m sorry. Ni ceta!” A man was begging and the shakiness of his voice told you he was probably crying as well. “I came to Mandalore with only good intentions, your highness. Peace. I never meant⏤”

You leaned back, peeling yourself away from Din, and sighed. “Baby, can we be done with this?” Din focused his loving gaze on you as he offered you a soft and kind smile. Din cupped your jawline and let his thumb trace the shape of your lower lip. You gave him a small pout. “Please?”

“How could I ever deny you, my Queen?” Din chuckled and you could feel the rumble of his chest under the beskar. He pulled you in for a quick, but tender kiss. “Go ahead.”

You beamed at him and felt him use his other hand to squeeze your ass as you rose from the throne and his lap. You spun on your heel and stared out at the crowd before you. Loyal Mandalorians stood at the ready, eager to serve their Manda’lor, and a stranger cowered on his knees begging. An older man who came to Mandalore with a peace treaty from another world in the same corner of the galaxy as the world you ruled with your love. You held a hand back toward Din without looking, and you felt him slid the familiar metal of your shared weapon into your grip.

The man began to cry harder as you skillfully activated the saber⏤ spinning it twice in your hands with the muscle memory of a once renowned Jedi. You and Din had gotten a taste of power, of ruling, and you both began to wonder: Why stop at Mandalore?

With a steady swing, you cut the man down and watched his body crumble down the steps. There was no room for peace. With the saber at your side, you and Din planned to take and conquer as your hearts desired.

After all, who could possibly stand in the way of the ruthless Mand’alor and his bloodthirsty, once Jedi trained Queen?

[here is the happy end]

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #dark!din djarin #reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #female reader #jedi reader #din djarin smut

225 notes · View notes