#i was slightly disappointed by the film though

[theoihalioistuff]

Hi, I've finished the Illiad and Odyssey not so long ago, and I'm a little bit confused.

In those texts, characters or narrator sometimes refer to Zeus as "the oldest of gods." I've read these on my native language, so I decided there was some translation problem, but then I've came across couple of English posts also talking about Zeus as the oldest and yes, I understand that posts people write aren't the best source of information but along with what I've read in the poems it made me doubting.

So, are there some versions of the myths where Zeus is the oldest? Or is it simply a translation or interpretation problem, like "the oldest" in the meaning "the strongest/wisest/greatest/etc"?

I will be very thankful for the explanation because somehow, this made me so confused.

No problem! Although Zeus is almost always presented as the youngest son from Hesiod onwards, he is in fact described as the oldest in the Iliad. For example, when he sends Iris with a message to Poseidon:

"I came here bearing a message for you, dark-haired holder of the earth, from Zeus who wields the aegis. He commands you to desist from war and battle and to go among the tribe of gods, or into the bright salt sea. And if you do not obey his words, but ignore them, he threatens that he too will come here to do battle, face-to-face; and he bids you avoid his hands, since he says he is more powerful by far than you in strength and in birth is elder." (Il. 15. 174-182)

One could suspect Zeus is bending the truth or being metaphorical in claiming primogeniture (considering the other more popular tradition) but the Iliad states it as a literal fact, as evidenced by Iris' response to Poseidon when he says that Zeus can snorkel his dongle:

"Is it in this way then, dark-haired holder of the earth, I should bear this harsh and powerful word to Zeus, or will you change your mind at all? The minds of the great are yielding. And you know the Furies always attend the elder born." (Il. 15. 201-204)

Meaning if conflict were to arise the Furies would side with Zeus because he the is older sibling. Hera is likewise here the eldest of the goddesses, and there's no reason to suppose it's not meant literally.

Curiously, quite the opposite interaction occurs in the Odyssey. If in the Iliad Poseidon has to give way to Zeus' bullying because Zeus is the eldest, in the Odyssey it is Zeus who, though still supreme king, gives way to Poseidon because here Poseidon is the eldest:

"Then in turn Zeus who gathers the clouds made answer: ‘What a thing to have said, Earthshaker of the wide strength. The gods do not hold you in dishonor. It would be a hard thing if we were to put any slight on the eldest and best among us. But if there is any man who, giving way to the violence and force in him, slights you, it will be yours to punish him. Now and always. Do as you will and as it pleases you.’" (Od. 13. 139-145)

Ancient authors were not unaware of the contradiction, and there seem to have been attempts to reconcile both traditions, like in the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite, where it's said of Hestia:

"She was the first-born child of wily Kronos and youngest too, by the will of Zeus who holds the aegis." (Hom. Hymn. 5. 22-23)

No further explanation is given, but it's widely assumed that this is a reference to Kronos disgorging his children in the reverse order in which he swallowed them, ie. rock first and Hestia last (Hes. Th. 500 and Apollod. 1.2.1). The imagery of Kronos "rebirthing" his kids from his throat is... explicitly, used by Nonnos in the Dionysiaca when describing the scene:

"How he [Kronos] opened a gaping throat to receive a stony son, when he made a meal of the counterfeit body of a pretended Zeus; how the stone played midwife to the brood of imprisoned children, and shot out the burden of the parturient gullet" (Book 12. 43)

[Describing a shield that depicts Kronos swallowing the stone] "There he was again in heavy labour, with the stone inside him, bringing up all those children squeezed together and disgorging the burden from his pregnant throat." (Book 25. 553)

"And these dwelt in the city of Beroe, that primordial seat which Kronos himself built, at that time when, invited by clever Rhea, he set that jagged supper before his voracious throat, and having the heavy weight of that stone within him to play the deliverer's part, he shot out the whole generation of his tormented children. Gaping wide, he sucked up the storming flood of a whole river, and swallowed it in his bubbling chest to ease his pangs, then threw of the burden of his belly; so one after another his pregnant throat pushed up and disgorged his twiceborn sons through the delivering channel of his gullet." (Book 41. 65)

Hope I could be of help! And that Nonnos hasn't traumatised anyone too much.

[joelslegalwhre]

drunk confessions

word count // 2.056k

pairing // jake “hangman” seresin x f!bradshaw!reader

summary // You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it

warnings // established relationship. (slightly)drunk!reader, mentions of alcohol, lightweight reader, nicknames for reader (bubbles, sweetheart, etc.), Bradley is in big brother mode, the mission I mentioned isn’t from the film, the pilots still live in their own apartments (all near the base) for this fic, soft!hangman (that man alone is a warning but him being soft???), affectionate Jake and a ton of fluff

a/n // This is the new version of "drunk confessions" from '22! I just changed the wording a little, but nothing of the plot has changed. I loved writing this two years ago and if anyone wants more Hangman, don't worry I have more to come because same haha Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers ❀

(as always, please tell me if I missed a warning)

Masterlist

You and Jake started dating almost a year ago when Bradley and him were together at Top Gun. 

Rooster and Hangman had never been the best of friends, everyone knew that, so it was never the right moment to tell him about the two of you. The risk of Bradley being angry or perhaps even disappointed was too big. At least that’s what you thought. 

Jake understood why you didn’t want anyone to know. And although he’d love to just scream it out into the world, that he was dating the younger Bradshaw, that he was without a doubt the luckiest man on fucking earth, he respected your decision. 

Jake knew that you’d do the same for him without a question.

You wanted to tell Bradley eventually, just right now wasn’t the right time. But the real question is, when was it really? 

Jake had a hard time keeping away from you whenever you were at the Hard Deck with the team. You mostly spent your time at the bar with Penny, to keep her company and to catch up with the latest news - often involving your godfather. 

She and Maverick were so obvious sometimes it made you chuckle, but you really hoped he wouldn’t let her down this time. But Amelia and you would ensure that. 

From your seat at the bar, you also had a perfect sight at the pool table. A lame excuse to stare at a certain blonde pilot all night. 

Jake would always be the first to voluntarily get a new round of beers for the group, and no one complained about it. They were all so caught up in what they were doing, that no one noticed how he eyed you all night, ready to be by your side in seconds if anyone were to bother you. 

-

“Hey Penny, sweetheart. Another round please!” he gave her a wink and shot her one of his handsome grins. Penny nodded with a smile in return and turned around to get seven cold beers for the young pilots. 

“You look smokin’ hot, baby.” he whispered to you as his bright eyes met yours. They had this glow in them every time he looked at you. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Seresin.” you teased him with a wink. 

“I can do way more than look good. Whatever you want, Bradshaw.” he grinned while his hand secretly found yours on the bartop, his broad frame shielding it from preying eyes. 

You chuckled lightly, “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah, babe. You better wait for me when everyone’s gone. I need to take ya home with me.” he flirted shamelessly in his southern accent you loved so much. Jake knew you’d do exactly that anyway, since you basically lived at his apartment at this point, but where would be the fun?

-

Not even Phoenix knew about the two of you, so you could say both Hangman and yourself did a rather good job. 

This time was different though. 

They were all going to meet up at the Hard Deck tonight, for another night of pool, darts and what not. The next mission was in less than a week, and you just wanted to spend as much time with Jake as possible. Just like he wanted to with you. 

Jake hated to keep his hands by himself when you were just a few feet away, playing darts with Fanboy or Bob. You never hid from them, after all, Rooster was your older brother. If you weren’t talking to Penny, you spent your nights with them, laughing, drinking and chatting. 

Not tonight… tonight would be different.

You met Penny at the bar in the late afternoon, to help her get everything ready before the first guests would come in. Amelia was staying at a friend’s house, so you gladly took over her part. 

When everything was ready for the Hard Deck to open, you sat down at your regula seat at the bar. 

Penny looked at you from the side while she turned on the lights underneath the bar. “Can I get you anything?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Can I get a beer?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Penny smiled gently. She put the bottle down in front of you, and you took a large sip. 

“So,“ Penny started, putting her hands on the bar, arms on each side of your beer. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’ve been out of it today.“ You looked up at her, and she had this look on her face that gave you so much comfort. You knew you could tell her everything and she’d keep it safe. 

„I… I’ve been thinking about…„ Yeah, what exactly was it that you thought about ever since opening your eyes today? 

You didn’t even know. Not really. 

You thought about telling Bradley about your relationship with his rival, screwing everything. But you’ve also thought about keeping it to yourself just a little longer. The upcoming mission was creeping into your mind at every thought; What if they didn’t make it? You didn’t want to think about that more than just a second. Not about your brother nor Jake. 

He would come back, and he’ll be fine. This wasn’t his first mission.

“I don’t even know Penny, I’m so confused.” you sighed and let your head fall into your crossed arms. 

“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know you will.” she said, caressing your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes, her kind smile calming your racing thoughts a little. 

Not enough, though. 

That night, you kind of ignored your limits of how much alcohol you could handle in one night. You got pretty much drunk. Not to a point where you could throw up or blackout, Penny was in charge of the bar after all, but the kind you’d be rewarded with a nice headache the next day and your mind to be pretty foggy. 

Drinking wasn’t one of your strengths. That’s why Jake liked to jokingly call you a lightweight, and he couldn’t be more accurate with it. 

You’ve been sitting at the bar for a good part of the night now. The team had already greeted you when they came in, asking you to come with them, but you declined, telling them you’d maybe join them later.

“Penny.” you tried to get her attention, a sudden certainty in your voice, “Please excuse me. I have to go and get some kisses now.“ 

“That’s his boyfriend duty,” you said with a confident nod. “You know, happy wife, happy life.” 

Penny had no idea how no one of the team could see the glances Hangman gave you. How he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. If anything happened, he’d be there in a heartbeat. And those poor guys who tried to flirt with you were quickly intimidated by his death stare. 

Penny just laughed. She had kept a close eye on you since your third drink of the night, the last two she gave you were non-alcoholic, but you didn’t have to know that. 

She ignored your choice of words at the saying, not changing ‚wife‘ to ‚girlfriend‘ with a chuckle and motioned you to go. “Go and tell Jake then.” You looked at her with wide eyes, “How did y‘know I’m talking about Jake?” 

Penny tilted her head with a smile, “Sweetheart, I notice things.” she winked, “Now go and get your man.” 

The next thing you knew, you were trying to your boyfriend at the pool table. 

“Hey, Jake!” 

His head snapped in your direction at the use of his first name. You were the only one calling him that. And the first name basis got everyone else’s attention as well. 

“Yeah?” he tried to not be too obvious. But his concern about how you were feeling was rising with every second. 

You didn‘t stop at the pool table, but walked up to him. Until you stood right in front of him. You looked up into his bright eyes, filled with curiosity.

“I need kisses.” you told him with a pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so thrown off by what you were saying, that he almost forgot the others around him.

Jake unwrapped your arms from his neck and placed his hand on your lower back. “I think you need some water and sleep, bubbles.” he couldn‘t suppress the small grin that grew on his lips.

„Kisses?! What the fuck is-„ Rooster started but was quickly interrupted by you, “Oh for god’s sake shut up Bradley.” you hushed your brother in honest annoyance, turning to him. 

“I love you, but I’m sick and tired of hiding something from you that’s important to me, just because I’m scared of what you’ll think or do.”

Hangman’s gaze was a mix between shock and pride. That you just straight out told your brother and all of your friends standing around you, about the two of you. Not keeping it a secret anymore. He knew it took a toll on you, and he’d told you multiple times to just tell Bradley for your own sake.

“Oh my god” you heard Phoenix breath out a laugh, while the others couldn‘t find words, still shocked, while some of them were exchanging amused looks.

Bradley didn’t. He looked back and forth between you and Jake, not able to process it all quite yet.

„Sorry man, listen I-„ 

“Just give me a second, okay?” Rooster cut Hangman off, stomping to the bar. 

“Let him be,“ you said while curling yourself into his side, hugging his arm close to your body, “He’ll be fine by tomorrow, the old drama queen.” Sober-you would probably be scared Bradley would be angry or disappointed. 

Good thing you weren‘t sober right now. 

“Babe, how much did you have to drink?” Jake whispered, as he bent down a little until his lips reached your ear.

“Ohh, not that much.” you assured him as you tried to sound sober, looking up at his face, only inches away from yours.

He looked back to the bar, finding Penny’s gaze. She mouthed something like “water” easing Hangman’s concern about your drunken state.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh, sugar?” he softly smiled at you. A real smile, one he had reserved for only you. 

You instantly shook your head in disagreement, “I swear, I’m not-„ you yawned, “that tired.” 

“‘Course you aren't” he mockingly smiled down at you.

“C‘mon, on my back.” he ordered, putting his hands behind his back, ready to hold your legs for support. He bent down, and you tried your best to hop on his back. You wouldn’t win anyway, and sooner or later - you preferred later - he’d carry you out the bar. 

You rested your head on Jake’s shoulder and wrapped your hands around his body. Your eyes already closing as the exhaustion betrayed you.

“Wow, Hangman, nice one.” Coyote teased him, the others joining in with laughter. Who would’ve thought Hangman had a soft spot.

“Shut it, Coyote.” Jake said with a look that would make anyone run for the hills.

“See you tomorrow, lover boy!” Phoenix joked. 

You giggled on Jake’s shoulder, “That’s a good one!” you lazily turned your head in her direction and smirked, Phoenix and the others laughing back at you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Jake complained, giving your ass a little smack.

“Hey.” you giggled, but did nothing in response. Your head ached a little, and you hadn‘t had the strength nor willpower to do so. Just relived to be carried, you let your head sink back on Jake’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” you whispered to Jake as he carefully sat you down on the passenger seat of his car. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding yours. Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips and he smiled. 

The slight smell of alcohol was surrounding you, but Jake couldn’t care less. „I love you, and I’ll never let you go, that’s for sure. You’re all mine, baby.“ he whispered back between small kisses, giving you goosebumps. His scent surrounded you as you wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him even closer. “Good.” you grinned and pulled him into another, longer kiss.

Masterlist

[lawchwan]

the man of my romance book (ace)

summary: just ace giving you the most mind-blowing sex requested: @weasleyjumpeer reader: fem!reader disclaimer: piv, references of stalking, reader wears glasses and reads books, squirting, very rushed, reader is slightly shorter than ace, confusing timeline wtf, references of cunnilingus, Ace is referenced to have a big dick (but nothing's explicit about it because it's about technique, not size), unprotected sex-reader might get pregnant uh oh!, manhandling, dirty talking, references of filming/recording, did i mention that it's lowkey rushed... i'm sorry genre: smut a/n: hi, hello... its been a minute... so i had multiple factors on why i disappeared, one being that i am a busy woman with a job, went through the loss of a dear family member and other factors I don't want to get into. furthermore, i had a draft ready for this, and i accidentally deleted it, which led to me losing my shit and motivation. but here i am rn, and i hope i don't disappoint thanks to my hiatus. I do sincerely apologize, however, to keep you waiting for three—almost four months. i hope you enjoy this piece :)

crossposted on ao3

The night bloomed with the moon's gleaming essence shining through the room as it highlighted the discarded clothes thrown due to the immense desperation and lust shared by the two individuals who had known each other not too long, yet not too short.

Ace has had his eyes on you for so long, his friends and crew were just mere muffled background sounds, as you were sat across his with a book laid in front of you on the other side of the cafe. His gaze juxtaposes admiration and lust, with your figure, your hair, your perfect skin, and your facial expressions when the little words on the stack of papers cause you to react subtly, he has been examining you.

Unbeknownst to him, you did catch up to his examination and tried your best to keep your attention away from him. But how could you? You would be lying if you said he wasn't candy to your eyes. Shirtless with tattoos painted all over his body, cowboy hat that concealed the greasy top of his long curly hair, manspreading with his arms splayed across the booth seat behind him and his crew, freckles that can be seen from afar that speckled across his face; he was the embodiment of the protagonist you would read in your dark romance.

His crew set sail on your island for a while and you would see him frequently, wherever you went, it was guaranteed that he'd be there, almost as if he was intentionally stalking you and knew where you were going.

Still, though, you kept your eyes on your book, not giving him the satisfaction of providing him the attention he sought and instead hoping he could grow the courage to come over and ask for a date, or a good fuck.

Ace suddenly stood up, eyes still glued to you, causing his crew to look up at him curiously, as he moved out of his seat and walked over to you, almost like you've entranced him to come over without looking at him.

You sensed a tall presence looming in front of you, resulting you in getting out of the reading world and going back to reality to meet with the fine man standing in front of him. You two held eye contact, almost like you’ve unintentionally entered a staring contest, waiting for one of you to speak. Ace gaped his mouth, wanting to say something but his voice failed him as it cracked, making him clear his throat and scratch his neck, his flustered pink tones radiated up to the surface of his tan skin. You began laughing as you covered your mouth, making Ace’s skin crawl in embarrassment.

“God dammit, I fucked up,” Ace thought to himself, nerves getting the best of him. He should have walked away and faced the music of mockery from his crew, but what he didn’t expect was you extending your hand, signaling him to sit while you pushed the seat away with your foot.

Ace looked down at the chair and then back at you, bemused like a dog getting a new command from its owner, before sitting down while you simply closed the book and put it in your bookbag. You smiled at him as Ace nervously tried to recollect himself.

“Sorry, I am not usually one to stumble on my words… or go through a second puberty,” He muttered the last sentence, in an attempt to make it incoherent for you, yet you heard him loud and clear, making you chuckle in response.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, besides, I think that voice crack was adorable,” You teased, making Ace scoff back at you. You got closer, placing your arms on the table, extending your arm for a handshake, making Ace look down at the hand then back up at your beautiful yet alluring smile.

“I’m (Y/N)”

The curly-haired pirate reached out and shook your hand back, mirroring your grin.

“I’m Ace, but I guess you know that already, since y’know…” He shifted his eyes and cocked his head, which you nodded back as you scrunched your face with a smile as you found him endearing right then and there, pirate or no pirate, he was adorable.

—

Adorable.

Time passed and you once thought he was adorable, and he was, but you assumed he was a nervous wreck with a deceiving look. You certainly didn’t mind breaking his shell, but he certainly exceeded your expectations when he slowly leaned in to kiss you when he wanted to drop you off from your guys’ date. You were astonished by how good his lips were on yours, for a nervous fellow, he sure kisses like he isn’t. When he pulled away, your lips were chasing after his, causing him to smirk as he held your chin firmly, almost like he caught you underestimating him.

“I can do more if you want to, but I’ll save it for another time…” He husked his voice, as he teasingly leaned in, running his thumb across your bottom lips before he leaned back and walked away backward.

“Good night, babe,” His departure almost felt like a mixture of goading yet exhilarating anticipation of what’s to come the next time you see him.

He might be the death of you.

—

Some more time has passed and the term “adorable” is not a word you would give at the moment when he has you wrapping your legs around his hips as he carries you to your bedroom with his lips attached to yours with sheer fervor. As soon as you mentioned that you lived alone, Ace jumped at the opportunity to get closer to you however he wanted. It was a risky move from your end, letting know a man you knew.

He has you where he wanted you to be as you are to his. You gripped the back of his neck and tugged on the hairs revealed from his cowboy hat. With the feverish atmosphere, his hat was tipped back to his back as he pushed you onto a wall and began his attack on your neck. You gasped a beautiful sound that Ace intentionally tried to extract as he nipped on the sweet spot by your neck, making you throw your head back as you began to let out breathy moans.

Ace pulled back and looked down at you, his freckled face was flushed with desire while his eyes had lust and plead shown between his bangs as he pants.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Ace whispered, lips still close to yours and his thirst was quenching the more he looked at you in your most lustful state. You told him where it was through your huffed tone and he didn’t hesitate to carry you into the bedroom before he threw you into the bed with such strength.

He carried you and threw you onto the mattress like you weighed nothing—it seemed as though his muscular physique was not for show after all. You were astonished by his roughhousing, yet he left you no room to react as he pinned you down onto the bed, his large hands encapsulating your wrists with his lips remaining attached to your lips. Your breaths were shaken with anticipation as his lips began their exploration across your soft skin. He tongued from your jaw down to your collarbone, while his calloused fingers reached for the hem of your shirt and began lifting it to expose any skin. With your shirt out of the way, his lips began attacking your body again, this time he began grazing his teeth around the soft skin of your breasts, just above your bra line. You arched your back to allow room for him to reach around and remove your bralette, only for him to pull away, hold onto the fabric, and begin ripping it from the center, leaving the piece ripped in half. You gasped at the sudden motion while he just groaned at the sight of you sprawled half-naked with eyes wide and blown with desire.

“Oh, fuck, baby…” He growled, before reaching down again and began open mouth kissing your supple breasts, making you whine at the exhilarating sensation of his warm mouth around your nipple.

“Ace…~” You breathed with hooded eyes as Ace roamed lower with his hands following along, goosebumps arising from your skin.  Ace didn’t respond immediately instead he just smirked looking up at you teasingly as he nipped at your mound.

“Hold on, baby… we’ll be here all night, I just want to give this sweet…” Ace paused looking down at your breasts again and began kissing the side of it and massaging it before leaning onto the other breasts to give it the same attention, “Breasts of yours some love… you’ll let me right?”

—

And some love your breast was given by him, and he meant it.

And many more, as time passed and Ace showed no sign of stopping. His gapped and moaning mouth was covered with nothing but your sweet nectar while his rough hands were gripping your hips as he was thrusting into you at such a pace no man could maintain. His hair fell forward while his necklace swayed along with the beat of his thrusts. Your legs spread as you began screaming out his name while the tip hit a pleasurable spot you never thought existed, a promise that Ace had mentioned while he was getting ready to eat you out.

“I’ll make sure your neighbors know of me as the guy who fucks you good instead of a criminal, no good pirate,” he chuckles darkly as he placed himself between your legs, face inches away from your glistening pussy, “I know you like that shit, I know girls like you would love to be fucked by pirates who do nothing but wreak havoc, am I right, pretty girl? Tell me I’m right because I know I am…”

And Ace maintained that promise as you attempted to cover your face with a pillow due to the volume you were producing thanks to Ace’s rough yet pleasurable thrusts, only for him to chuck the pillow across the room with such aggression and grounds your wrist onto the mattress, leaving you no room to wiggle yourself away.

“No, no, baby, I need to hear you, I need to hear you become a mess for me.” Ace gritted his teeth as he groaned out strings of curse words while you were calling out his name like a prayer.

“Oo~ Ace~ Fuck yes!” You whimpered as the heated sensation was enflaming your insides—a funny correlation with having fire fist Ace ramming his hard cock into your pussy. A pussy that craved nothing but a specific type of pleasure that only a man like Ace can achieve, a one-of-a-kind man, and Ace knew of that and he relishes the fact that your body craves him and him only.

Even though you two don’t know each other for long, you gave him a sense of confidence no girl ever gave him. He knows he’s a good lover, but you made him a lover that a pornstar would envy to have. Especially with how you were writhing underneath him, whimpering out begs and his name.

Ace…

Ace…

Oo fuck me, Ace~

Sounds like he would love to have recorded, it’s a shame he left his den den mushi somewhere in the apartment and a camera back on the ship, he would have used it to his advantage.

The sounds of squelching skin-to-skin sounds, dubbed with your combined moans of pleasure were music to Ace’s ears, especially with how you were approaching your orgasm.

“I’m—fuck—I’m coming!” You whined out as your moans started to border onto panting, making Ace hit a deeper spot as he tried to keep with your pace. He nodded with a smirk as he panted out, “Same here, baby… come on, come for me and I’ll come for you…”

And with those words, you arched your back as Ace sent you to a space where you could only see white with how you rolled your eyes, thanks to the overwhelming pleasure he had put you through. Ace nearly fell on top of you as he landed on your shoulder, biting onto it as he came inside of you. After the two of you began catching your breaths, Ace pulled away to look at you before he placed his forehead and gave you strings of passionate kisses.

He pulled away, not after you bit his bottom lip to bring him back close to you, making him chuckle. You smiled up at him shyly as he just looked at you with such glamor and adoration.

“Wow… no one has ever fucked me like this…” You whispered, making Ace snort out a laugh as he shook his head, “You thought it was over?” Ace responded with a menacing smile on his face.

You widened your eyes, he fucked you this good, and there’s still more?

Your shock state unsettled Ace, his smirk dropped due to the lack of response, “unless you want us to stop—”

“No!” You exclaimed, making Ace flinch and you tight-lipped your mouth shut after you made a fool of yourself. Thankfully, Ace only chuckled and kissed your lips, the intention undetected yet the ardent intensity was present.

“You’re so cute,” Ace comments after pulling away from the kiss. He pulls himself up, only to look down at the scenery below him with a gasped delight. Your eyes followed his, and there you saw was a puddle of your essence staining your bedsheet, mixing with Ace’s pearly cum that fell out your pollen.

You gasped as you felt a rush of embarrassment coursing through you, yet you oddly had no sense of shame in your system. You looked up at Ace, shyly, hoping he doesn’t give you a reason to feel otherwise. Thankfully he leaned in again with another feverish kiss, before pulling back with a smirk, lips barely touching.

“Want us to create more of a mess in the shower? The floor? Or more on the bed? Anything you want, baby, because I’m not done…”

And you hoped it wouldn’t end anytime soon…

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

[poisonlove]

Hotcake | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

A/n: I know, it's short 🥞

After a long day of filming, some of the cast of Wednesday were hanging out in Jenna's trailer, trying to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Emma was sitting next to me on the couch, amused by Percy’s antics. Georgie was chatting with Hunter about light topics, while I simply smiled and watched my colleagues with amusement.

But out of the corner of my eye, I kept an eye on Jenna.

The brunette was sitting in an armchair just a few feet away from us, with her headphones around her neck and her phone in hand, presumably replying to messages from family and friends. Even though she was distracted and not actively participating in the conversation, I knew she valued our presence.

Her brown eyes often drifted towards us, and a small smile that revealed her dimples appeared whenever something amused her.

It was such a light and perfect smile that it gave me butterflies in my stomach.

"I’m hungry," Percy suddenly mumbled, stretching out on the couch with an exhausted expression.

Emma shot him an amused glance. "You’re always hungry."

George laughed. "Yeah, it’s no surprise."

Percy made a face but couldn’t suppress a laugh. "What can I do? Working with you all wears me out."

Everyone laughed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jenna. Just then, she looked up from her phone and glanced at us. Her lips curved into a slight smile as she listened to our conversation.

"I can make some hotcakes if you’d like," she offered with a small smile.

The room erupted into a chorus of approval.

"Hotcakes!" George exclaimed, as if he had just won the lottery.

"Jenna, I love you!" Percy shouted, almost jumping off the couch with excitement.

Jenna lowered her gaze, blushing slightly from all the attention. It was clear she didn’t enjoy being the center of such a commotion and that the open displays of affection made her uncomfortable.

"Does anyone want to help me?" she asked timidly.

Jenna’s eyes moved between the guests, lingering on mine for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. My face flushed and a warm feeling spread through my chest as her coffee-colored irises met mine, and a smile seemed on the verge of breaking through.

Jenna made a little grimace, and disappointment showed on her face for the lack of response.

Emma gave me a nudge.

"Ouch!" I looked at the brunette in confusion, and she raised an eyebrow at me. "She was referring to you, idiot," Emma said with a mischievous smile.

My cheeks turned bright red.

I immediately felt embarrassed, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny the wave of excitement that hit me. Jenna was looking at me, and for a moment, we exchanged such an intense gaze that I forgot about everyone else.

"Ah, yes, sure," I said, trying to sound calm, though my heart was racing. "I’ll help you gladly."

As I made my way to the kitchen, I could feel Jenna’s gaze fixed on me. Even though she was always very reserved and shy, there was something in the way she looked at me that made my heart pound. She didn’t say much, but her glances and faint smiles made me blush instantly.

"Thank you for your help," she said with her usual calm and composed voice as she handed me a bowl of flour.

"No problem," I replied, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. "Although... I can’t promise I’ll be very useful." I chuckled, trying to ease the growing tension between us.

Jenna gave a small smile, looking down at the counter. "You’re already more useful than Percy," she joked. "He’d probably burn even water."

I couldn’t help but laugh, and she looked at me again, this time with a wider smile. "You’re probably right," I added. "Although I think Emma wouldn’t even let him near the stove."

Jenna nodded, laughing quietly. "Yeah, she’s like... the mom of the group."

As we exchanged these light-hearted remarks, the atmosphere continued to lighten. We worked together to prepare the hotcake batter, and every now and then, our hands would brush against each other by accident. Each time it happened, I felt a little shiver run down my spine, but I tried not to let it show.

"Okay," I said, trying to focus on the task at hand, "what do we do now?"

"You need to mix the flour with the milk," Jenna explained, gesturing to the bowl. "But be careful not to make a mess."

"I make no promises," I replied jokingly, beginning to mix with a concentrated expression. However, something went wrong. Maybe I had mixed too vigorously, or maybe it was just my natural clumsiness, but suddenly a small puff of flour flew out of the bowl, scattering everywhere.

Jenna laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. Her laughter was so sweet and genuine that it struck me deeply, leaving me dumbfounded.

"See, I told you!" she exclaimed, shaking her head with amusement.

I immediately felt embarrassed, trying to clean up the mess I had made. "Okay, yeah, maybe I’m not cut out for cooking."

She looked at me with that intense gaze, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Don’t worry," she said softly, and then, with a quick motion, grabbed a pinch of flour and dabbed it on my nose.

I was taken aback for a moment, then looked at her incredulously, flour smeared on my nose. "Really?" I asked, pretending to be offended.

Jenna burst into laughter, her face lighting up in a way I rarely saw on set. It was a contagious sound that brightened her face and brought out the adorable dimples in her cheeks. That sight made me blush immediately, with the warmth spreading rapidly from my chest to my face.

"You had it coming," she said between laughs. "You made flour fly everywhere!"

I couldn’t help but smile too. "Okay, fine," I said, trying not to let myself be distracted by how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. "But now it’s war."

Without thinking too much, I grabbed a small handful of flour and attempted to smear it on her face, but she was faster. She moved to the side, avoiding the hit, and looked at me with a challenging expression.

"Oh, so we’re playing dirty?" she murmured, moving closer. Her eyes were locked on mine, and for a moment, I felt completely entrapped by her deep gaze.

The tension between us shifted suddenly. The laughter faded, replaced by a silence filled with anticipation. Jenna was still close, maybe too close, and my heart began to race, making it impossible to ignore the effect she had on me.

Her eyes looked at me intensely.

"How much longer? I’m starving!" Percy’s voice interrupted from the living room.

Jenna diverted her gaze from me, blushing slightly, and headed towards the stove.

With a swift motion, she started cooking, trying to regain her focus. Her face was still flushed, and she struggled to concentrate while preparing the hotcakes, while I, with an amused smile, watched her return to her routine, embracing the chaos and complaints from the rest of the cast.

Damn Percy

[yourgothiccqueen]

LN4 - “Clueless”

Request: Requested by @anniesimpson2128 🖤

Summary: Lando has been flirting with Y/N for as long as he can remember. Unluckily for him, she hasn’t noticed.

Pairings: Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: None! Just a fluffy little story ❤️

Word count: 1.6k

You lay on the grass, Lily lazing beside you, as the warmth of the sun beats down on your face. You use your arm to shield your eyes from the harsh rays, feeling your skin begin to flush already. It had been a long couple of months, traveling around the world with your best friend Lily. You'd befriended her a few years ago, and had instantly clicked, becoming attached at the hip ever since.

Being a freelance journalist, and always up for an adventure, you'd jumped at the opportunity to accompany her to almost all of her boyfriend (and your close friend), Alex's, races.

Legs stretched out in front of you, you allow yourself to relax, readying yourself for the nap of a lifetime.

Before you can doze off, you feel a sudden shadow cool your face, and sense someone is stood above you.

"Hello there, gorgeous." A familiar tone smiles.

"Hi Lando!" You grin up at the sun kissed, curly haired man. "Joining me for a sunbathe?"

"Don't tempt me." He lifts his arms up above his head to stretch, and you catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. "I've got two more meetings today before I can relax properly. Can probably have a five minute break though."

Lando Norris - the incredibly talented, sarcastic and sassy F1 driver.

You'd met him through Alex, of course, a few years ago now, and had quickly become firm friends with the young driver. He was gorgeous, sure, but you'd never been anything more than friends. He didn't see you that way.

Platonic with a capital P.

Lando sits down next to you on the grass, taking a momentary breather from his busy schedule.

"Looking beautiful as always, Y/N." He beams at you, as you peek up at him through your lashes.

"Why thank you, Norris." You reply.

This was typical Lando. Always the smooth talker with every woman he meets.

"You wearing sun cream? You're gonna burn laying out here, it's fucking boiling." He says, gazing up to the sky, a hint of concern in his words.

"Yes, Dad." You joke. "I've got my factor 50 on, no need to stress."

"Good, good."

A moment of comfortable silence falls between you. You allow your eyes to flutter shut again. If they'd have been open, you'd have noticed Lando gazing down at you longingly, an unknown look in his eye.

"Gotta any plans for the rest of the day?" He quietly queries, a hopeful tone to his voice.

"Nothing much. Just chilling with Lily." You nod to the dozing woman beside you, dark sunglasses covering her eyes.

Lando's eyes light up slightly.

"I don't suppose you'd fancy..."

"LANDO!" A voice calls from the building behind you. "Back to work, mate!"

If you were sat any closer to Lando, you'd have heard the disappointed sigh leave his mouth.

"Duty calls - see you later, gorgeous." He smiles down at you.

"Bye Lan, have fun." You smile back, gently.

Lando treks off towards the building as Y/N closes her eyes once again, soaking in the sun.

Lily rolls her eyes under her glasses at how clueless her best friend could be.

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

Later that evening, you find yourself in Lily and Alex's hotel suite, searching Netflix for something to watch. You have dubbed yourself the 'third wheel' of their relationship for as long as you've known them, and thankfully they didn't mind the occasional extra company.

"Where's Lando this evening?" You ask, curious as to where he's gotten to. It's getting late, and he's usually done by now. Not that you track his schedule much, of course.

"Got held up in meetings, should be here soon though." Alex states. "What film do you want to watch?"

"Ooh, can we watch Pretty Woman?" Lily asks, gazing at Alex. "Please?!"

"Urgh, fine. If we must." He roles his eyes dramatically, but lets a small smile creep on to his face. He doesn't mind what they watch, as long as he gets to watch it with Lily.

"I hope Lando finishes soon - I don't want him to miss movie night. He deserves a break. That boy works too bloody hard!" You exclaim, making yourself comfy against the cushions.

Alex shoots Lily a look, both of them choosing not to acknowledge how evident it is that you care about Lando as more than a friend.

In perfect timing, the door opens as Lando makes his way inside. His hair is disheveled and he looks exhausted.

"Shit, you good?" Alex asks.

"Just a long day. I'll be fine." Lando yawns in response, stretching his arms.

He makes his way over to the sofa, immediately flopping down next to you. He presses a kiss to your forehead, which sure, should be weird amongst friends, but this was just typical Lando. You smile up at him in response.

"Anything I can do to make you feel better?" You ask, concern lacing your voice.

"Pizza?" He asks, hopeful.

"Already ordered some. They'll be here within the hour."

You know Lando well enough to know he's always hungry after a full day, so made sure there was food en route for when he got in.

"Hell yeah, see this, is why I love you!" He exclaims.

You giggle in response, shaking your head slightly as you look at the TV. You miss the way his eyes widen at what he's just said, and you miss the knowing glance he shares with Alex.

Just friends. You're just friends.

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

The night wears on, Alex and Lily retiring to go to bed halfway into the film. You and Lando persevere, tucking into the leftover pizza lazily as the credits begin to roll.

"Surprised you didn't go back to your room to sleep." You state. "I bet you're exhausted."

He shrugs. "Yeah, but I wanted to spend time with you. Haven't been able to see you much today."

"That's sweet." You smile at him.

You'd gotten closer to him as the film rolled on, and are now tucked comfortably into his side, able to feel his warmth. Your head rests against his shoulder.

"This is nice." He allows himself to whisper.

"What is?" You murmur sleepily against him.

"Nothing, don't worry. You getting tired?" He asks, gazing down at your closing eyes.

"Nope." You smile. "I'm wide awake."

"Sure you are, sleepy head." He says sweetly, one of his hands reaching up to stroke your hair. "You look very pretty when you're all tired and...cosy."

"You saying I don't look pretty any other time, Norris?" You smirk up at him, teasing him slightly.

"Hey, course I'm not!" He lets out a short laugh, before becoming slightly more serious. "You're pretty all the time. Gorgeous in fact."

You smirk at him "Aw Lando, are you flirting with me?"

"Duh." He replies simply. "Wasn't it obvious?"

You suddenly feel very awake. You had simply been joking. There was no way in hell that Lando Norris, your gorgeous, charismatic, sassy friend had seriously been flirting with you - right?

You sit up slightly "Wait, really?"

You gaze into his eyes, waiting to see a hint of a joke. There isn't one.

"Yeah, I've been flirting with you for the past year." He nudges his shoulder against yours, giving you a soft smile "Thanks for finally noticing."

You rack your brains of all the times over the past year Lando has called you beautiful, cared for you, and held you slightly closer than typical friends do. You'd thought that was just him. You didn't realise he was only acting that way with...you?

"Wait." You begin "You're flirting with me, because...?"

Lando rolls his eyes, but not unkindly. He allows himself to feel brave, resting his hand on your cheek.

"Once again, isn't it obvious?"

Oh.

Oh.

"Oh!" You respond, finally putting the pieces together. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I thought you knew I liked you!" He almost laughed, exasperated. "I mean, the flirting wasn't discrete Y/N!"

"I mean, I didn't know! I thought that was just you being, well, you!" You exclaim in response.

"You think I go round calling every girl I meet beautiful and want to spend every hour of the day with her?" He protests. "I mean, how many dates have you seen me go on since I met you?"

Once again you rack your brain, and come up with nothing.

He sees in your eyes that you fully understand how he feels, how he has felt all this time.

"Yeah." He says softly. "Was only you. Was only ever you."

You gaze up at him, his hand still resting on your cheek. Everything is falling into place, and you can almost sense how right it feels. It's always felt right with Lando.

It's your turn to be brave, as you inch closer to him, allowing your eyes to drop to his lips. Lando follows your lead, letting you take control of the moment. His breathing is shallow, filled with anticipation at the thing he hasn't even dared imagine over the last couple years, incase it never became a reality.

Yet here he was.

Your eyes flutter shut as you press your lips against his. You mold perfectly into him, as his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer. You allow your arms to wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. Time stops. Neither of you breathe. Its electric and perfect and meant to be.

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

Lily and Alex awaken early morning, emerging from their room to find you and Lando entangled on the sofa. His shirt is on the floor, and you have a very visible lovebite on your neck.

"Oh my god." Lily half whispers half shouts. "Finally!"

"Jesus christ, I thought this day would never come. Back away quietly in case it's all a bloody dream!" Alex whispers, guiding Lily out of the room again as she giggles with joy.

They leave you and Lando, no longer third wheels, wrapped in each others bodies. Meant to be.

[hedgehog-moss]

"rn I feel like reading about someone's quiet daily life, maybe a diary or letters, set in a place or context I don't know much about, without turmoil or tragedy" oh! do you have any recommendations for books like this?

This is one of my favourite types of books! Here are 30(ish) recs...

May Sarton's The House by the Sea or Plant Dreaming Deep

Gyrðir Elíasson's Suðurglugginn / La fenêtre au sud (not translated into English unfortunately!), also Bergsveinn Birgisson's Landslag er aldrei asnalegt / Du temps qu'il fait (exists in German too)

Gretel Ehrlich's The Solace of Open Spaces, which iirc was originally written as journal entries and letters before being adapted into a book

Kenneth White's House of Tides: Letters from Brittany and Other Lands of the West

Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book

The Diary of a Provincial Lady, E. M. Delafield

Growing Up with the Impressionists: The Diary of Julie Manet

Elizabeth and Her German Garden by Elizabeth von Arnim (do not read if you don't like flowers)

The Road Through Miyama by Leila Philip (I've mentioned it before, it feels like this gif)

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, I keep recommending this one but it's so nice and I love snails

Epicurean Simplicity, Stephanie Mills

The Light in the Dark: A winter journal by Horatio Clare

The Letters of Rachel Henning

The letters of Tove Jansson, also The Summer Book and Fair Play

The diary of Sylvia Townsend Warner—here's an entry where she describes some big cats at the zoo. "Frank and forthcoming, flirtatious carnivores, [...] guttersnipishly loveable"

The Letters of Rachel Carson & Dorothy Freeman were very sweet and a little bit gay. I mostly remember from this long book I read years ago that Rachel Carson once described herself as "retiring into her shell like a periwinkle at low tide" and once apologised to Dorothy because she had run out of apple-themed stationery.

Jane Austen's letters (quoting the synopsis, "Wiser than her critics, who were disappointed that her correspondence dwelt on gossip and the minutiae of everyday living, Austen understood the importance of "Little Matters," of the emotional and material details of individual lives shared with friends and family")

Madame de Sévigné's letters because obviously, and from the same time period, the letters of the Princess Palatine, Louis XIV's sister-in-law. I read them a long time ago and mostly I remember that I enjoyed her priorities. There's a letter where she complains that she hasn't received the sausages she was promised, and then in the next paragraph, mentions the plot to assassinate the King of England and also, the Tartars are walking on Vienna currently.

Wait I found it:

R.C. Sherriff's The Fortnight in September (quoting the author, "I wanted to write about simple, uncomplicated people doing normal things")

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

Pond, Claire-Louise Bennett

Rules for Visiting, Jessica Francis Kane

The following aren't or aren't yet available in English, though some have already been translated in 5-6 languages:

ツバキ文具店 / La papeterie Tsubaki by ito Ogawa

半島へ / La péninsule aux 24 saisons by Mayumi Inaba

Giù la piazza non c'è nessuno, Dolores Prato (for a slightly more conceptual take on the "someone's everyday life" theme—I remember it as quite Proustian in its meticulousness, a bit like Nous les filles by Marie Rouanet which is much shorter and more lighthearted but shows the same extreme attention to childhood details)

Journal d'un homme heureux, Philippe Delerm, my favourite thing about this book is that the goodreads commenter who gave it the lowest rating complained that Delerm misidentified a wine as a grenache when actually it's a cabernet sauvignon. Important review!

Un automne à Kyôto, Corinne Atlan (I find her writing style so lovely)

oh and 西の魔女が死んだ / L’été de la sorcière by Kaho Nashiki —such a little Ghibli film of a book. There's a goodreads review that points out that Japanese slice-of-life films and books have "a certain way of describing small, everyday actions in a soothing, flawless manner that can either wear you out, or make you look at the world with a temporary glaze of calm contentment and introspective understanding [...]"

I'd be happy to get recommendations in this 'genre' as well :)

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love strategy p.4

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy part 4, if you have missed part 3 here it is :)

After Lando drives you to your hotel, you make your way to Carlos's room, focusing on the work at hand. You knock, waiting for the familiar sight of Carlos to greet you.

But when the door swings open, it’s not Carlos who stands in front of you—it’s his latest girlfriend, her expression unreadable, though her stance seems less than welcoming.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," you begin politely, forcing a smile, "but I need to talk to Carlos about his schedule and interviews for tomorrow."

Her eyes narrow slightly, and she doesn’t open the door any wider. "Couldn't you do this later? Or, I don’t know, just send him a message or something. We were… in the middle of something."

You try not to let her cold response get to you, but before you can reply, Carlos’s voice drifts from behind her. "Who's at the door?"

She rolls her eyes but steps aside just enough for Carlos to come into view. He spots you and waves you inside with a casual, "Come on in."

You walk into the room, feeling a bit awkward under his girlfriend's lingering stare. Carlos notices your unease but seems oblivious to the tension. "What's up?" he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Why didn’t you tell me about this on the plane?"

You blink, momentarily taken aback. "Carlos," you say slowly, "I didn’t fly with you. I was on a different plane."

He looks confused for a second, clearly trying to piece things together. "Wait… you didn’t? I didn’t even realize."

A flicker of disappointment tugs at your chest, but you brush it off. "Yeah, I flew with someone else," you say, your tone neutral as you shift focus to work. "Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads-up for tomorrow. You’ve got the usual interviews in the morning, and you need to film a video with Charles after that. Also, you and Charles are filming a collaboration with McLaren tomorrow afternoon."

Carlos nods, processing the information, though he still looks a little distracted. "Right, got it. Thanks."

But as you finish, the awkward tension in the room only intensifies. His girlfriend is sitting on the bed now, watching you with a thinly veiled irritation, like your presence is an unwelcome intrusion. You feel the weight of her stare, and suddenly, the air in the room feels thick, stifling.

"I should go," you say quickly, stepping back toward the door. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Carlos looks up, but he doesn’t argue. "Yeah, see you."

As you slip out of the room and back into the hallway, you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You head straight to your own room, shutting the door behind you. Between Lando, the unexpected airport headline, and now the icy reception from Carlos's girlfriend, it’s been a long day. All you want now is some peace and quiet.

But just as you’re starting to unwind, your phone buzzes from across the room. You sigh, standing up to grab it, half-expecting it to be another work-related message. Instead, it’s Lando.

Lando: Hey, how’s it going? Lando: Surviving over there with the Ferrari crew?

A small smile tugs at your lips as you read his message. You quickly type back.

You: Barely. Had a lovely chat with Carlos’s girlfriend. You: How about you?

It only takes a few seconds for Lando to reply.

Lando: Oof, sounds intense. I’m sure you handled it well. Lando: So, listen—I’ve been thinking. Tomorrow, during the interview McLaren’s doing with Ferrari… maybe we should just, you know, drop the news then?

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the message. He’s talking about going public with your "relationship" during one of the most high-profile interviews of the weekend. It makes sense, but the thought of it being so… public, especially with both teams involved, makes your stomach twist in nervousness.

You: Tomorrow? You: In front of everyone? Isn’t that kind of… a big deal?

Lando sends back a laughing emoji.

Lando: Isn’t that the point? Gotta make it look convincing, right?

You bite your lip, anxiety fluttering in your chest. You knew this was part of the plan, but now that it’s so close, the reality is setting in. You type back hesitantly.

You: Yeah, I get it. I’m just… nervous. It’s a lot.

A moment passes before Lando responds, and when he does, it’s with his usual playful tone.

Lando: Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. We’ll drop it casually, like it’s no big deal. Lando: I’ll just say something like, “Yeah, we’re dating. No biggie. Now let’s talk about the race!” 😎

You can’t help but laugh out loud at that, the image of Lando casually announcing something so major with that level of nonchalance easing some of your nerves.

You: You’re impossible, Norris. You: But seriously, what if I mess it up?

His response is quick, and this time it’s more reassuring.

Lando: You won’t. Besides, I’m nervous too. This whole thing is crazy, but we’ll make it work.

It helps to know that even Lando, who seems so effortlessly confident, is feeling the pressure too.

You: Fine, let’s do it. But if it goes terribly, I’m holding you responsible.

Lando: Deal. But trust me, it’ll be great. See you tomorrow!

You set your phone down, a small smile lingering on your face despite the lingering nervousness. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, and the thought of stepping into that interview with Lando, letting the world believe in this staged relationship, makes your heart race. But somehow, knowing that he’s just as anxious as you—and still managing to joke about it—makes it feel a little less overwhelming.

Here's part 5

Tag list: @abq654 , @spaceflowergal, @mads94sworld, @anewpersonthatexists, @qlovalova, @itsskavya, anaferreira-4, @willowsnook, @larastark3107, @blueberry648579, @luckyangelballoon, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @gtwdahhh, @edsmunsonsgirl

[mrchiipchrome]

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining

A/n: It's giving 'here damn', sorry for it taking so long icl I was struggling with this one. Say if you can tell whether I was hungry or no making this😭

W.C. - 7.7 k

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

The first thing you can feel as you start to gain consciousness is a weight against your arm, pressing on your bicep and cutting off the blood flow to the rest of your arm. The tingle in the tips of your fingers feels almost like TV static would, pricking and prodding at the insides of your digits almost harshly.

The second thing you feel is something, someone, pressed against your front, the warmth radiating from her disappearing between the two of you and turning into a tingle at the top of your stomach. Her body fits perfectly against your own, curves fitting in the spaces of your body like that what it was made for, maybe it was, you’d never know.

The third thing you feel is fabric against the back of your hand and soft skin beneath the fingertips of your right hand. The softness of the skin doesn’t fool you for a second though, a layer of firm muscle built up over multiple years just beneath it, an impressive feat really.

Still, you don’t open your eyes, much rather wanting to savor the slow morning moments of the Sunday, the last calm one for a while, with pre-season training starting during the new week and school picking up the pace.

The quiet, serene moment is only interrupted by the sound of something crashing to the ground not too far away from where you’re laying in your bed with the unnamed girl, your brain not even registering the familiarity of her scent and body.

Opening your eyes ever so slightly, a quiet groan leaving your mouth as your back meets the soft mattress, you see the dark brown hair splayed all over the pillow and arm, dark brown hair you recognized, dark hair that belongs to the only person that you definitely shouldn’t have been in the same bed as.

How in the actual fuck do you get yourself into these predicaments?

There’s honestly no use in pondering, the events from the previous night flooding in almost immediately, nearly like an old movie from when they still used physical rolls of film. Rubbing your eyes, a yawn escapes from between your lips, the relatively early morning combined with the late night culminating in the exhaustion you’re feeling.

It’s difficult to choose whether to stay in bed with the Croatian beauty or get up and check out what the noise had been caused by, in the end the curiosity won out over the comfort of your own bed and the warmth of the basketball player.

Carefully pulling your arm out from under the brunette’s head, you clench and unclench your hand more than a few times to get the blood flow going again, pins and needles returning as you start gaining feeling back in your forearm.

You pause as you hear a small groan coming from Nika, body still as if you were a statue in order to not wake her any further, a small sigh escaping you when she stills completely, seemingly back in the deep sleep she previously had been in.

Tiptoeing to the door, you very carefully push down on the door handle so as to not wake everyone in the building by simply opening your door, opening it a fraction and slipping your body in the space between the door and the frame.  

It’s like she doesn’t hear your heavy footsteps against the floor, because when you round the corner of the living room she’s sitting on your couch, watching some trashy reality tv show and eating sugary cereal you got especially for her. Cereal she wasn’t supposed to eat anywhere else than the kitchen because it would be a pain in the arse to clean up if it got on the cushions or literally anywhere else.

Leaning up against the wall, your arms cross over your chest just like a disappointed parent, looking at the older girl tiredly. Still, her eyes are glued on the tv and the drama being displayed on the screen, barely even blinking in order to not miss anything.

“What are you watching?” Em’s eyes snap to you, a scared look on her face, like she knows that she’s been caught doing something she knows she’s not supposed to do. Her almost pathetic attempt at redemption comes from the small smile she’s sending you, trying to convince you not to scold her.

“Hey Y/n, what’chu doing up already?” She asks despite it being almost lunch time, eyes shifting anywhere but to where you’re standing, and you roll your eyes at her antics. Pushing off the wall, you walk in her direction with decisive steps, flopping down on the couch beside her and sprawling out your limbs, looking like a starfish with your butt hanging half over the edge. 

Em looks at you all weird, not really understanding why you’re not cussing her out for disrespecting your rules, yet she doesn’t say anything, it would be foolish to incite that kind of reaction. Her eyes stay on you for a few more seconds before she turns back to Love Island on the TV, leading her to just feel you get up from the couch again and not see it.

“So what is this show you’re watching?” You ask her all the way from the kitchen, getting your own bowl out of the middle drawer of the cabinet, closing the drawer with your hip and moving towards the refrigerator, pulling on the handle and plucking the carton of milk out of the small bottom compartment of the door. 

Moving back to where your bowl is sitting on the counter, you wait for your best friend to answer the question you posed to her. In the meantime you search for the chocolate cereal you knew you had hidden somewhere in one of the three cupboards in the kitchen. 

“It’s called Love Island, they basically fly out a bunch of boys and girls to a tropical island to humiliate them in front of hundreds of thousands of people.” She pauses for a moment in her explanation, seemingly taking another bite of her cereal. “Boys and girls couple up during the first day there then bombshells come in and they can steal girls or boys that are already coupled up, then there’s the recoupling ceremony where people can choose to couple up with someone else. You’ll get it soon enough.

Pouring your cereal in the bowl, you barely look up from your hands as you multitask, listening to Em explain and fixing your own breakfast. Flooding the cereal with a lake of milk, your fingers wrap around the handle of the top drawer, getting a spoon and putting it in the bowl. 

Carefully walking back towards the sofa where Em is sitting, you make sure to not spill a single drop on your hardwood floors, not wanting another disaster to clean up. In her short time as your best friend, Em had spilled more than you had in your entire life, thankfully she knew to stay away from anything exceptionally expensive.

“So they like, do this willingly?” You ask her, still confused about why people would do that out of their own free will.

“Yeah, you get famous off it sometimes and you win a shitton of money.” She responds through a mouthful of milk and cereal, looking at you through the corner of her eye as you sit down beside her once again, putting your feet up on the coffee table.

The two of you sit in silence after that, the uncharacteristic silence confusing the brunette laying in your bed. In all the time she had spent with the two of you, there had probably been a collective 5 minutes of silence, not counting when either one of you were unconscious.

When Nika wakes up, she’s all alone in the comfortable, but slightly too big bed. Her pounding head reminds her of the night she barely remembers and her aching limbs feel too heavy to move, half lidded eyes peeking around at the sparse decorations around the room, trying to recognise where exactly she was.

The muffled sounds coming from the other side of the door are enough to pique her curiosity, so with quite a bit of effort, she gets out of the bed she’s almost sinking into, swaying on her feet as she moves towards the door.

Using the wall as support, she quietly makes her way towards the living room, the source of the quiet noise. As the light from the open room hits her eyes, she lets out a groan, the headache doubling in painfulness, her now closed eyes failing to pick up the looks she’s getting from the two of you.

A look of pure adoration flashes across your face as Nika practically stumbles into the room, one hand covering her eyes and the other up against the wall, practically holding her up. In your 18 years on earth, you’re more than sure that you’ve never seen something as gorgeous as the girl standing only steps away from you, a realization that was becoming far too normal in your unusually interested mind.

On the other side of the couch, a mischievous look in her eyes that tells you everything you need to know, not that you see it, too focused on Nika to even pay your best friend any mind.

Nika herself doesn’t see either of the looks, too preoccupied with the pounding in her head, simply moving closer to the couch with almost stumbling steps, like a little lamb trying to make its way to the shade.

In the end she has to catch herself more than once before she finally throws herself into the space between you and Em, practically sinking into the couch and disappearing between the cushions.

Emma smirks down at her playfully, pondering on whether to tease her or leave her alone, on very pointed look from you though makes her decision very clear. No teasing allowed apparently, wheat has the world come to.   

There’s a strange type of silence between the three of you, not uncomfortable by any means but still, it was strange.

Nika’s almost asleep again, her head resting comfortably against your arm after she shifted a bit, just enough for her head to come into contact with the muscle of your upper arm.

By the time Nika looks up at you through her lashes, the cereal in your brightly coloured bowl has turned soggy and lost its matte brown color, now an almost pale brownish beige. Disgusting look really, but still kind of tasty.

“Can I have some?” Her puppy dog eyes are very convincing in their own right, that much you’ll admit, but you’re not sure that the unappetising cereal would be any good in terms of nutrition, not even mentioning the cross contamination happening if you were to share the same spoon as well as the milk in the bowl already.

“Really? It’s all soggy.” You look down at her questionably, not even noticing the dramatic eye roll Emma sends you both at the oblivious nature the both of you possessed. In what universe would you and Nika not end up together? Probably in one where her brother actually cared for his girlfriends.

At that moment, Em realizes that she probably would tell this story at your wedding one day in the future, most likely laughing and halfway to being drunk.

“Hey Em, gimmie some of your fruity pebbles.” Clearly, she’s been caught up in her own thoughts for far too long, lifting herself up on the heels of her hands, Em peeks over the edge over your bowl only to see it void of anything that’s not slightly diluted chocolate milk.

Throwing herself back against the cushions with a groan, both you and Nika look at her amused, the shared twinkle in your eyes telling more of a story than Em could ever realize.

“Ugh, I don’t want to get up, you go get it yourself” She rolls her eyes again, completely oblivious to your knowledge of the fact that she had brought her cereal box with her from the kitchen and that it was next to the couch’s armrest.

“Come on Em, you think I don’t know about your little stash? Come on, sharing is caring as Americans would say.” Your playful smile reaches all the way up to the corners of your eyes, and though she would never admit it, Nika’s sure she feels something other than hunger in her stomach after it. 

As Em begrudgingly hands the box over, she doesn’t fail to notice the way your arm slips away from beneath Nika’s head, pouring the sugary cereal into your now shared bowl before handing it back to the shortest of you three, the smooth maneuver you probably didn’t even realize you’d completed results in Nika’s head resting against your chest and your arm slithered around your shoulder.

Even with your seemingly cool, calm and collected demeanor, you’re screaming on the inside, sharing a bowl of fruity pebbles with a gorgeous girl apparently sets every single nerve in your body alight. 

And the worst (best) thing about it is how right it feels, despite it all being so incredibly wrong, her boyfriend (who definitely doesn’t care about her like you do) was probably worried sick about her, you would be.

It’s not right, but damn does it feel good to have her close to you.

Not in a gay way or anything, you try to convince yourself, completely platonic, yep, yep, yep, just purely platonic.

Either way, when the world turns upside down, it’s probably smart to contact the nearest Aussie, after making a mental note to call Cailtin later, you settle into the cushions more, eating a spoonful of sharp and colorful flakes, deciding to simply not care about right and wrong for now and instead just… enjoy yourself.

A comfortable silence takes over the room for the next hour or so, the three of you simply sitting quietly, watching the show and enjoying each other’s company.

Through the screaming and arguing of the contestants on the screen, the loud rumbling of your stomach can be heard. It almost echoes throughout the room.

Both of the older girls turn toward you, almost in unison, at the sound your stomach produces, eyes wide and faces filled with pure and unbridled amusement. You’re filled with embarrassment though, a deep, dark blush covering your cheeks, especially so as Nika reaches up to pinch one of them, like a grandmother would.

“Aw, are you hungry? Let’s go fix you something to eat.” Surprisingly enough, it’s not Em that teases you, but instead Nika, who teasingly pats your stomach before slipping out of your grip and standing up in front of you, holding her hand out for you to take, her silken palm meeting yours in a soft embrace.

With unsurprising strength, Nika pulls you up off the couch and almost drags you with her into the kitchen.

Tucked away in the corner, just beside the fridge, there’s a portable speaker that Nika takes with her unoccupied hand, bringing her other hand away from yours to turn it on, then connecting her phone not long after. Within the span of a couple moments, music starts playing in the kitchen, all types of music flowing out in waves.

Looking on cluelessly as she starts swaying her body along to the beat, Nika almost raids your fridge, seemingly disappointed with what she finds as she frowns and pouts adorably. Looking through your cabinets too, she’s even more disappointed with what she finds, brows now fully furrowed.

She picks up her phone from the counter where she had placed it down only moments before, humming along to the chorus, pressing and swiping and messing around on her phone before she looks up and over the top of it.

“Your address?” She asks, trying not to laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face, your mind clearly not comprehending a single thing she had said.

“What?” She smiles all cutely at you, and you have to try your absolute hardest not to replicate her expression, but in the end it’s simply impossible. Her smile is just so contagious that you can’t help it.

“I need your address, I’m ordering the ingredients.” Telling her you address quickly, you also thank her profusely for the thoughtful act, offering to send her the money for the groceries, to which she simply just waves you off, telling you that it wasn’t necessary.

“So… what do we do now?” You ask her, not noticing the way she’s moving closer to you until her hands grip onto yours, stringing you along as she starts dancing to the r&b song. The beat of the song grips ahold of you just enough to the point where Nika doesn’t have to push and pull on you tp make you dance, your body on autopilot.

“You know I really don’t like to dance.” You tell her, fully confused as she smirks at you, well up until you follow her line of sight down to your lower half, moving like a master, like you’d done it a million times before. “Shut up.” Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth, whispered through playfully pursed lips.

“I did not say anything.” She exclaims, still smiling at you teasingly, and you roll your eyes for what seems to be the millionth time since arriving in America, by now not even caring about the playful teasing.

Nika’s phone buzzes after a few more songs, the text message telling her that the ingredients were at the door.

“Come on, let’s go.” She walks to the hallway with you in tow, seeing her open the door to find a short and stout man on the other side, a thick, white mustache covering his upper lip. You both thank him and he gets a hefty tip before you close the door and basically skip your way into the kitchen, ready for some food.

“What are we making?” You ask her excitedly, almost buzzing with pure anticipation.

“We are making štrukli, it’s from Croatia.” Nodding along to her words, you walk towards the sink to start washing your hands, all whilst Nika starts to unpack all the ingredients and placing them on the counter. Shaking the water off your hands, you soon make your way to the drawer where all your aprons and towels were stored, pulling out the first one you could see and putting it on, absentmindedly tying the strings behind your back.

Looking back up from the floor, you soon see the look Nika’s giving you, half teasing and half plotting. Her eyes trail up and down your body, staying a moment or two extra on your torso before flicking back up to your eyes and then back down again.

Looking down at yourself, you see exactly what’s caught her attention, and the embarrassing print covering the front of the apron spells out a big “Kiss The Cook”, a gift from Lucy who thought she was oh so hilarious, in her mind it was an appropriate gift for a college student.

Your cheeks darken once more, your hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck before you speak.

“Uh yeah, um it was a gift from my older sister, well not my actual older sister, I don’t have one of those, but from my uh, my pseudo-” In your stupor, you had once again not noticed the way Nika was moving closer to you until her unbelievably soft lips were pressed to your cheek, her hands pressing down against your hip bones to push herself up slightly. Heaven was gifted to you in the form of a single moment, a single kiss pressed fleetingly to your cheek by a divine woman with a boyfriend. 

A boyfriend. Fuck.

“So, a kiss for the cook, now we can start.” Just as quick as it happened, Nika moves away from you and towards the sink behind you to wash her hands, leaving you completely dumbfounded, almost convinced that the whole thing had been a dream. She’s a whole dream, nothing that perfect could be attainable in real life.

But as she pats you on your back, you get thrown back into reality, with Nika standing beside you at the counter there’s virtually no chance of a possible escape, not that you’d ever want that either way. She grabs the ingredients, carefully pushing them in front of you both before ordering you to get a bowl. 

The plastic clanks against the counter as you put it down, Nika now ordering you to start making the filling made up of cheese, a pinch of salt, eggs and sour cream, whilst she makes the dough herself.

“This look good enough, boss?” Holding up the mixing bowl in order for her to check the contents, she nods quickly after looking at the mixture for a moment or two, beckoning you over at the same time.

“Alright, you put it on there.” She points to the dough rolled thin on the counter, and you move over as quick as your legs allowed you to, handing her the bowl so that you couldn’t mess everything up. “Like this.” She says, spreading the cheese mixture along the bottom quarter of the dough. Standing right behind her to get a closer look at the process, you peek over her shoulder as she works diligently, strong arms flexing with every single move she makes.

“Usually there would be a… how do you say? Stolnjak… like a cloth.” She rubs her thumb against her pointer and middle finger - almost like she’s asking for you to pay up - before she moves her hand back down towards the counter.

She takes the edge of the dough and starts to push it towards the other edge, making a roll that, at last, ends up in the middle of the counter.

“Plate, please.” She holds her hand up, ready for a plate to be placed between her waiting fingers. You move away from her, and for just a millisecond, Nika misses the warmth your body provided her, being just close enough for your bodies to exchange heat. After finding a plate that you felt was sturdy enough, you place it in between her fingers and wait for what she’s going to use it for.

She turns around briefly to flash her winning smile at you as an inaudible thank you, but then she turns back around and starts to press the plate’s edge against the soft dough, cutting it whilst at the same time sealing the edges off.

“Next steps are secret, go sit with Em.” She looks over her shoulder at you, a mischievous glint in her eye, all before she starts to physically shoo you away and out of the kitchen, even going as far as to start pushing against your chest to get you to go back to the living room.

Feet shuffling against the floor, you look back towards the kitchen sneakily, trying to get a sneak peek of the so-called secret step, only to be met with a middle finger and a playful smile paired with a knowing look.

Jumping over the back of the couch, you settle down into the couch with your back resting against the arm rest and your feet resting in Em’s lap. She looks at them disgusted, like she hadn’t done the exact same thing a hundred different times before.

“First you steal my cereal, then you put your disgusting feet in my lap, where are your manners?” She asks, playful annoyance coating every word coming out of her mouth, shaking her head almost like she’s disappointed in you. 

“First of all, I paid for that cereal, so it’s mine, secondly I have socks on, no cross contamination.” You smile cheekily at her, shrieking when she pokes the underside of your foot, extremely ticklish. Something Em really wasn’t supposed to know.

“Ticklish huh, now we’ll see who really owns that cereal.” Her statement makes no sense at all, but you don’t have any time to ponder over it as she throws herself onto you, starting to tickle your sides before you start to gain control, flipping her over and letting the wrestling commence.

Knocking over the empty bowls standing on the coffee table, it seems like Nika finally notices the childish nature of playing happening in the living room, her accented voice being heard all across the apartment.

“Children, stop it before you break something.” The both of you stand up almost immediately, going into the military salute position, throwing yourselves back onto the couch when she giggles at the pure silliness of the apparent adults standing only a couple meters away from her. Well you were barely even legal, but that’s a problem for another day.

Em’s eyes widen once more when she sees the print on the apron you’re still wearing, going back into mischievous mode in less than a second. 

“Ooooh, did the chef get the kiss?” She teases simply, and you try your hardest to keep the poker face, even going as far as to start coughing to have a reason for the blush that’s surely covering your cheeks by now, but of course that only makes you more suspicious. “Wait, actually?” She leans over towards you, shock displayed all over her face.

“No, she kissed me on the cheek, you know, like friends do?” Pushing her face away from yours with your hand, Em starts making kissy faces from the other side of the couch, by now neither of you are paying attention to the program on the tv, just focussed on annoying the other as much as possible.

“How come I don’t get any of that honey?” She teases, leaning closer again this time to pretend to kiss you on the cheek, before you once again push her away.

“Shut up” Crossing your arms across your chest, you signal that you’re done with the conversation, Em like always, continues on with her antics, but you don’t pay her any mind, the older girl finally shutting up like you asked her after a while.

With the both of you slowly being pulled back into the show that is love island, there’s no way that you notice Nika’s nearing figure until she’s standing right in front of the tv, somehow holding three plates of steaming food.

“Lunch is served.” Her proud smile is adorable and you actually have to prevent yourself from aww-ing at it, which is harder than it may seem. As she hands you your plate, your stomach rumbles loudly again which lets you know that it’s time to eat.

The first bite tastes like pure love, and you can’t help the loud groan from escaping through your lips, a pure home cooked meal differing from the plain rice and chicken that you’d had for lunch practically since you arrived in America. 

“This is so good, you did such a good job.” Looking at Nika sincerely, it’s difficult not to notice the growing smile on her face after your words, even as she moves closer to sit down between you and Em, the smile stays on her beautiful face. She smiles a lot. That’s a good thing, you decide, a person with a smile as gorgeous as that shouldn’t hide it.

“We.” She reminds you, after a second or two, a fond look in her eye that you hadn’t seen before, it’s kind of like the way parents looked at their kids in the movies when they got good grades or something. Yeah, no, probably not that. “We both made it, and you’re right, we did a hell of a good job.”

Em nods in agreement at the statement, not as thrilled to be, what she deems as third wheeling as someone might think, if only she had stayed home last night. Last night, the party, getting drunk beyond belief, bumping into Nika and one of her basketball buddies, Party P, getting pulled into more than one beer pong game, nearly passing out and then waking up to Nika using her phone, to then falling asleep just before getting woken up, insulting your pjs and then getting driven home. Wait.

“Oh shit.” Em says just before springing up off the couch in a panic, both you and Nika’s eyes following the cartoonish action, Nika far more concerned than you, simply based on the fact that she 

isn’t practically living with the… enthusiastic girl. Em exclaims shit like that once every half an hour normally.

“Oh shit what?” The brunette asks, hoping to get a ‘I forgot my homework’ oh shit rather than a “I dropped my phone in the toilet” oh shit. 

“I fucking forgot that I left my car back at the school. We have to go get it.” She exclaims, almost running for the door as Nika stands up slowly, looking at you unimpressed as you lean back into the cushions. 

“What?” You ask innocently, like you can’t figure out why she’s looking at you in the way she is on your own. Taking another bite, Nika sighs and rolls her eyes before she once again sticks her hand out for you to pull yourself up with.

“You know I have to get home too, I can’t stay here forever.” She says, raising her eyebrows when you practically ignore her in favor of watching the show on the tv. Stepping so that she’s blocking your line of sight, her eyes staying on you until you actually get up. “Come on.”

“But the drive-” You start off, almost whining to the obviously amused girl, who just starts to beckon you over to where she’s now standing halfway across the apartment in the hall.

“But the drive nothing, if you don’t want Em to drive your precious baby.” She teases, getting startled when you zoom past her, just barely remembering to grab your keys off the hook before absolutely legging it down to the bottom floor. Unbeknownst to you, Nika takes her time and puts the dishes in the sink just to make it a little easier for you before she carefully slips her shoes on. 

Looking around the hall, she soon sees the spare house keys hanging off a hook not far from the hook your car keys hung on just a moment before. Just as the tall brunette exits out the front door, the door just beside yours also opens and an adorable dog jumps onto her, all excited and puppylike despite clearly not being a puppy.

“Who are you? Oh you’re so cute.” Nika coos at the slobbering dog, getting up from the ambush to kneel in front of him, scratching just behind his fluffy ear. He lays down on the ground, showing his stomach for loads of belly scratches.

“That’s Bubba, he’s just a little eccentric.” The old woman standing in front of her reaches out for her hand, bringing Nika up from the floor and leaving her own dog whining for more bellyrubs. “He’s a big baby. You’re one of Y/n’s friends? I haven’t seen you ‘round before.”

Nika nods her head quickly, introducing herself to the lady with the cutest dog ever.

“Yeah I’m dating Emma’s brother, but yeah we’re friends. I’m Nika.” She smiles, and the old woman replicates her actions. There’s an almost standstill for a moment before the gray haired woman sighs, looking at her amused.

“Alright now, if you’re ever having any problems with them knuckleheads, don’t be ‘fraid to knock and I’ll fix it right up for ya. And I just want to tell you how gorgeous you are, my god you are something else.” With that, the old woman leaves with her fluffy dog and her tiny red pure that Nika hadn’t noticed before.

Shrugging, Nika turns around and locks the door before making her way down to the lobby, walking out the door only to see you and Em basically wrestling on the ground in front of your garage. She rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, walking over with sure steps to deliver steady slaps to the backs of both your heads.

“Ouch.” Rubbing the backs of your heads, both you and Em follow after Nika as she makes her way to sit in the passenger seat, Emma groaning at the action like she even had a chance at shotgun in the first place.

“Y’all are idiots sometimes, you know that?” She says, waiting for the key to be inserted into the ignition so that the car can be started, and her words make you roll your eyes sassily. There’s always a bit of sass in you.

“Come on, bro let’s just go.” Em sits in the middle seat, poking her head forth between the front seats, using her elbow to nudge Nika in the ribs. Not that it would make any difference, since you were the one driving and not her.

Driving out of the garage, your precious baby of a car rumbles in that familiar way, the pebbles on the ground crackling under the weight of the car.

“Let’s get some life up in here.” Em exclaims after a few minutes of quiet driving, the sound of the engine mixed with the air coming from the vents clearly not satisfying the older girl. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Em leans forward and turns the radio on, the volume high like it’s supposed to be.

“Sit down Emma, are you trying to get us killed?” You ask, half joking and half serious, the surprising action from the girl in the backseat having startled you only moments before. The click of the seatbelt sounds behind the loud music, a reassurance that she indeed did not aim to be killed.

“Shush, enjoy my company kiddo instead of complaining.” Em smiles mischievously at you through the rearview mirror, leaning back into the seat and putting her hands together over her stomach.

“Oh so I’m kiddo now?” You look back at her briefly with the trademark ‘really?’ look, turning your eyes back to the road so as to not put everyone in danger. Nika giggles beside you, and it catches your attention quicker than you’d ever admit, not that you’d ever admit to most things, especially those involving Nika. Not that there was anything about her to admit in the first place, you tell yourself in your head, right.

“Would you rather be grumpy?” You hear Em’s accusing tone shining through the loud music in the background, and you can imagine the expression on her stupid face, with raised brows and an idiotic look.

Deciding to stay quiet in order to not give her any more ammunition, it seemingly gives her a lot more than you would have thought.

“Thought so.” She sticks her tongue out at you through the rearview mirror and you can’t help but shake your head in amusement, deciding to just let her be.

During the next hour, your car turns into a concert hall as Nika and Em sing along to the songs on the radio, and you catch yourself smiling at their silliness more than once, especially as they start singing to each other like they were in a band.

And to everyone’s surprise, you had even joined in a few times.

Luckily enough for Em, nothing had happened to her old ass car by the time you had dropped her off, except for the fact that it was 23 years old and that the paint was chipping in various places, the car seemed fine enough. 

Driving off in the direction Nika had pointed in, you flip Em the bird just for fun as you pass her by and she sends you one right back, all before Nika slaps the back of your head, calling you a child lovingly.

“Okay, right here and then you can park there.” Nika points to a spot right outside of the dorm building as you pull up in front of it, looking around you carefully as you park, there’s no way you would ever risk damaging your car.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, you get out of the car at the same time as Nika does, locking up and checking it once, then twice and then thrice, just to be sure. Looking up, you see the unimpressed look the girl at the other side of the car is giving you, and you send her a sheepish smile in return.

“You care more about that car than you do your apartment.” Nika says just as you round the corner of the car, sidling up beside her as you two walk shoulder to shoulder towards the entrance of the building, the code to the door being put in before either of you can make your way into the building.

Looking around the entrance, there’s really not a lot to comment on, a couple of security cameras and some sort of guard sitting by the door. Well protected at least. 

“Come, we need to get upstairs.” The Croatian beauty takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of a set of stairs leading up to, what you presumed to be floors and floors of rooms. 

Following her up the stairs, it doesn’t take long for Nika to stop in front of a door, presumably the door to her dorm. She leans down and fiddles with something, somehow managing to produce a keychain from the small space, leaving you completely perplexed.

“How did you just-” She shakes her head amusedly, almost telling you to not even ask just with a simple look. “You’re magic, you know?”

“Thank you, but I’m really not, at most I can hocus pocus my way into some free drinks.” Nika says as she winks playfully at you, pushing her key into the lock without hearing the thumping footsteps coming from the inside of the dorm, too distracted by the dark red blush suddenly covering your cheeks.

As she tugs on the handle and opens the door, Nika’s tackled to the ground by a mystery girl, someone who’s clearly quite excited.

“NIKAAAAA, twin where have you been? I was literally posted up in here last night waiting for you.” The mystery girl gets up off the brunette, pulling her up and off the floor just a moment later, not even noticing you standing just a few decimeters away.

“You know how it is Paige, making the most out of the last of the off-season.” Nika responds to the blonde you now know to be Paige. Rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, you almost leave without saying goodbye, seeing as your job was done, you had walked her home.

“Whose clothes are these? I know they ain’t yours.” You can hear the blonde, Paige, speak up again, and you see her tug at the corner of the t-shirt that clearly wasn’t Nika’s, seeing as it was a t-shirt you’d gotten for winning some tournament for England’s U21 team not too long ago.

Nika looks back at you for just a second or two, before she’s waving you over to where the two of them were standing not too far away. Walking closer cautiously, you look at Nika, almost asking her “what should I do?” through your gaze.

“Who’s this?” The blonde asks Nika, looking at you skeptically, not judging you but instead wondering who you were.

“You know Cal has a little sister, right? This is her best friend,” Nika starts off looking at Paige before she turns towards you, looking at you intensely as she speaks. “I mean we’re pretty good friends too, right kid?” She teases, and you groan loudly at the nickname, not wanting it to spread further than it already had. You’re not a kid, but to others you might as well be an infant.

“I’m not a child.” The playfully groaned words seem to take the blonde by surprise, for some reason you can’t fathom.

“Whoa, I was not expecting that accent.” She exclaims, looking at you with a huge smile on her face and a glint in her eye that you know you had seen before.

“Most people don’t, it’s quite weird actually.” You look at her as you speak, a small smile appearing across your lips. Shrugging, there’s really no telling why people didn’t expect that accent, but it happened often enough for you to probably need a shirt announcing the fact that you were not American. As if. 

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n, a friend of Nika’s and her boyfriend’s little sister.” Sticking your hand out for her to shake, Paige does so with the confidence you’d seen shine through in her interactions with Nika. 

“I’m Paige, Nika’s best friend.” Letting go of your hand, the blonde smiles mischievously, in a fashion that suggests that she does it all the time, and based purely on the way Nika rolls her eyes playfully, you’re sure she does.

“Nice to meet you, I should be going though, can’t have Em getting home before me.” Shrugging softly, you turn around to walk away from the two, but the brunette doesn’t let you get too far away before she takes hold of your hand once again, pulling you around to face her.

“I think I forgot my clothes at your place.” She tells you, an adorable frown on her cute face.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll just bring them ‘round next time.” You wave her concerns off with the simple promise, keeping eye contact all throughout the interaction, not daring to look away from her captivating gaze.

“Next time?” She looks at you almost confused, but not really at the same time, there’s something about her that’s just so difficult to read. Maybe you’ll learn sometime, maybe.

“Yeah, next time.” You respond determinedly, of course you wanted to see her again, as soon as possible, you’re friends and you want to see your friends. As much as you want to see Nika again, the call of home is getting louder second by second and you know you can’t leave Em alone outside your door, waiting to get in as if she hasn’t gotten her own key to your place.

“You wanna see me again?” Nika smiles all mysteriously, raising her eyebrows slightly as if she was surprised before she moves her hand, that you just now realize is still connected to your own, uup to tuck the strand of hair falling down into her line of sight. Before either of you realize what’s happened, you’ve reached up and tucked it behind her ear, not even thinking twice about the usually intimate gesture. 

Not even seeing the light blush dusting the brunette’s cheekbones, you continue on with your conversation as if nothing happened, which in your mind was true, there was nothing there at all, right?

“Of course I want to see you again, we’re friends dummy.” The american lingo has clearly started to catch on as you start sounding like some idiot in those cliche american rom-coms that Leah always made you watch with her.

“Okay then, next time.” With that, the girl turns back around to face Paige, who looks at her in a way that you can’t decipher, the both of them disappearing back into the apartment. Shrugging, you start on your walk down the stairs, trudging down the steps until you come down to the first floor, walking out the front door after giving a polite nod to the guard thingy sitting there.

“Y/N!” You can hear your name shouted as you walk towards your car and you turn around, looking up to see Nika waving at you through the open window.

Turning your whole body around to face the building, you wave back at the woman enthusiastically before you turn back around to walk to your car.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you inhale a deep breath before exhaling smoothly, emptying your lungs of as much air as possible. The headlights light up as you turn the car on, pulling out from in front of the building and onto the small slithering roads leading to the motorway.

The calm drive home isn’t interrupted by anything thankfully, the music from the radio playing softly in the background providing a nice backtrack as the repetitive motions of driving continue all the way until you’re parked back in your garage just outside your apartment building.

Going through everything that you have to do when you get back inside in your mind, you’re almost on autopilot, locking up outside before putting in the code at the door and then taking the elevator up.

The doors slide open, only for Em to be nowhere to be found, seemingly having disappeared into thin air. Eh maybe she’s finally at her own place, you think as you go to open the door of your apartment, suspiciously finding it unlocked.

That is until you remember that you’d run out before without locking so that would make a lot of sense.

Kicking off your shoes just as you come in, there’s a murmur coming from your kitchen, people seemingly speaking in hushed tones. Em was clearly not at home at all, maybe Mrs Peters had invited herself over again. 

Walking further into the apartment, you take out your phone just to check to see if you have any new texts, unconsciously walking towards the kitchen and the low voiced chitchat. Opening up the Instagram app, you scroll through your feed for a few seconds before Em’s voice cuts through the now silent air.

“What took you so long?” She asks jokingly, but there was a sort of seriousness underlying in her tone, the thing that makes you grimace, Emma is never serious. Standing just in the doorway of the kitchen, you lean onto the pillar-like structure casually, not noticing anything being out of the ordinary.

“Oh you know how it is, Nika wanted me to-” Looking up in the middle of your sentence, your jaw drops open in shock, eyebrows shooting to your hairline and phone crashing to the ground. “No way.”

“Hey kiddo.”

[seafarersdream]

Could I request Ewan Mitchell X reader :)

Maybe something where they work on set together and he hears that reader likes rock music so they go to a concert together?

Birds of a Feather (Ewan Mitchell x Y/N)

Y/N L/N plays Alys Rivers, but off-screen, it’s Ewan who’s getting bewitched. He thought he’d spark some chemistry for the cameras, but he’s in deeper than he planned. Word count: 4,2k

TW // Strong language and profanities, smoking and alcohol use, mild sexual content.

“Fuck, is that Rage I hear?”

Ewan Mitchell’s voice cut through the noise like a knife. Y/N L/N turned her head, still puffing on her cigarette, her eyebrows shooting up. She pulled one earbud out, letting it dangle against her collarbone.

“Depends,” she said, a teasing grin playing on her lips. “What’s it to you?”

Ewan’s face lit up with a mischievous grin, his eyes bright under the studio lights. “Mate, I’m a sucker for a bit of RATM. Didn’t peg you for a rock fan, though,” he replied, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his worn leather jacket, a faint good ol’ England drizzle making the material glisten.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Seriously? You think I’d play a witch in medieval times and not have a thing for rebellious rock?” She took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling smoke that curled lazily in the damp Watford air. “I’m disappointed, Ewan. Thought you’d have me figured out by now.”

Ewan stepped closer, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath. The smell of coffee and bacon butties drifted over from the food cart, mixing with the sharp scent of cigarette smoke. The studio lot was buzzing with crew members, some rushing around with props, others laughing in groups, and the usual hum of film equipment humming in the background. But all of that seemed to fade as he locked eyes with her.

“Guess I’ve got a lot to catch up on, yeah?” he said, tilting his head slightly, his voice softer now, almost testing the waters. “Thought we could grab a coffee or something. Get to know each other. You know… build that Aemond and Alys chemistry they’re all banking on.”

Y/N smirked, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What, you think we need to build chemistry?” she challenged, a playful edge to her tone. “I thought we were just supposed to, I dunno, act.”

Ewan let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t bullshit me, love. You and I both know this whole on-screen spark thing doesn’t just happen. Gotta work for it.” He took out his own pack of cigarettes, offering one to her. “And who knows, maybe we’ll actually end up liking each other.”

She took the cigarette with a raised eyebrow, tucking it behind her ear for later. “Fine,” she replied. “Coffee sounds good. But if you think I’m gonna pretend to like you just because some big-shot director thinks we should, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Ewan grinned, lighting his cigarette, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “That’s what I’m counting on, dove.”

They walked towards the little coffee stand set up near the trailers, the air thick with the smell of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. The crew was still buzzing around, setting up for the next scene, but Ewan only had eyes for her.

“So, you got a favorite Rage song, or is Guerrilla Radio just your go-to for when you’re bored on set?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, leaning against the counter as she placed her order. “Depends on my mood. But yeah, that one’s a banger. Bulls on Parade if I’m feeling a bit more… intense.” She shot him a sidelong glance. “What about you, Mitchell? You a poser, or do you have actual taste?”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate through the air. “Touché. I’d say Know Your Enemy speaks to me. You know, all that anti-establishment, fuck-the-system vibe. Kind of like me.”

“Wow, deep,” she deadpanned, though her lips twitched into a smirk. “So you’re the rebellious type, huh?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Depends on who’s asking, love.”

She felt a spark run down her spine, something electric buzzing in the air between them. “Alright, I’ll bite,” she said, taking her coffee from the barista with a nod. “What’s your deal, Ewan? What’s got you all eager to cozy up to me?”

He took a sip of his coffee, considering his words. “Honestly? You intrigue me. The way you’ve got everyone eating out of your hand on set, but still keep this air of mystery. I want to crack that code.”

Y/N’s smile widened, but her eyes stayed sharp, playful. “Good luck with that. I’m not some open book for you to read, Mitchell. You might find some things you’re not ready for.”

Ewan’s grin only grew, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. “Oh, I’m ready. And I’ve got time. Plenty of time.”

She gave a short, amused laugh. “We’ll see about that. But don’t think I’m easy to impress. You’re gonna have to do better than coffee and rock music trivia.”

He raised his cup in a mock toast. “Challenge accepted, L/N.”

Ewan took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke swirl around his lips before exhaling slowly. “So, come on then,” he prodded, his voice carrying a low, teasing lilt. “You can’t drop a Rage song and then just leave it at that. What else are you into? Gotta be more to you than just some classic ‘fuck the man’ anthems.”

Y/N flicked ash off her cigarette, eyeing him with a small, conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking at a die-hard Deftones fan, mate. White Pony is my Bible. I swear by it.” She paused, a flicker of excitement sparking in her eyes. “Got the album cover tattooed on my ribs, actually. Wanna see?”

Ewan’s brows shot up, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Bloody hell, you’re hardcore,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of admiration. “Yeah, show me. I’m not gonna say no to that.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Cheeky bastard.” But she lifted the hem of her shirt just a fraction, revealing the tattoo of said pony against her ribcage, the ink standing out against her skin. His eyes traveled over the design, appreciation evident in his expression.

“That’s sick,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice lower now, almost a murmur. “Always had a thing for a girl with a good tat.”

Y/N dropped her shirt back down, feeling the rush of cool air against her skin, but his gaze was still warm on her. “Deftones, huh?” he continued. “Got a favorite track?”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Depends on the day. But Cherry Waves always gets me. There’s just something about that slow, seductive build. It’s like… drowning in sound, in the best way.”

Ewan nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, I get that. Chino’s voice is like, sex in audio form. Never thought I’d meet someone who’d get that vibe.”

Y/N chuckled, but her eyes were sharp, amused. “And you? What’s your poison, Prince Regent?”

He scratched his jaw, the faint stubble rasping under his nails, a self-deprecating grin spreading across his face. “Ah, I’m a bit more basic, I suppose. Metallica’s my go-to. You’ve probably noticed,” he added, tugging at the faded Metallica t-shirt he was wearing.

She glanced at the shirt, rolling her eyes with a grin. “Subtle. But hey, I can’t blame you. Metallica’s the real deal. Those riffs could wake the dead.”

“Right?” Ewan agreed enthusiastically. “And there’s something about those old-school thrash vibes that just… I dunno, lights a fire in you, you know? Makes you wanna break shit.”

“Or at least headbang until your neck snaps,” Y/N added with a laugh. She leaned back, crossing her arms, her demeanor relaxed. “But come on, be honest. How many Metallica shirts do you actually own?”

He scratched the back of his head, looking slightly sheepish. “Too many, probably. Enough that I could wear a different one every day of the week.”

Y/N shook her head, mock disbelief on her face. “Sheesh, you’re such a fanboy.”

“Oi, don’t knock it,” he shot back, grinning. “At least I’m consistent. Plus, you’ve got a Deftones tattoo. I think we’re both in pretty deep.”

She nodded, conceding the point. “Fair enough. So what do you do when you’re not, y’know, worshipping at the altar of Hetfield?”

He laughed, a soft rumble that seemed to cut through the cold, wet air. “Not much, honestly. Hang out with mates, go to gigs when I can. Read a bit, usually some weird existential stuff that just makes me more confused about life.” He paused, studying her. “What about you?”

She shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Same, really. Love a good gig. I read too, but I’m more into the horror stuff. Stephen King, Shirley Jackson, you know the drill. And, obviously, I smoke way too much.” She waved her cigarette as if to prove a point.

Ewan nodded, a spark of interest in his eyes. “Horror, huh? Never took you for a gore enthusiast.”

“Not gore,” she corrected, leaning in closer, her voice almost conspiratorial. “Psychological. The shit that gets under your skin, makes you think. I’m not about blood and guts; I’m about the mindfuck.”

He blinked, clearly impressed. “Damn. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “I aim to keep people guessing, Mitchell. Keeps life interesting.”

He tilted his head, grinning. “Alright then. How about a deal? I’ll show you my favorite dive bar in Camden, and you can tell me more about how you like to mess with people’s heads. We can drink, play some pool, maybe even argue about whether Deftones or Metallica is the superior band. Fair?”

Y/N leaned back, considering him, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “That’s a dangerous proposition, Ewan. You sure you can handle me?”

He held her gaze, his smile steady, a challenge in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure, witch. I’m fucking counting on it.”

The space between them felt smaller, more intimate, and the air around them buzzed. Whatever was brewing between them, it wasn’t just for the cameras.

And both of them knew it.

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The rain had let up just enough for them to venture out of the trailers, and now they found themselves huddled under a flimsy awning, kebabs in hand. The smoky scent of grilled meat mixed with the dampness of the air, a comforting aroma against the steady patter of raindrops. Y/N wiped a bit of sauce from her chin with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on Ewan as he chewed thoughtfully, the wheels in his mind clearly turning.

“So,” Y/N started, around a mouthful of kebab, “this whole Alys and Aemond thing… it’s twisted as fuck, right? Not exactly a love story, more like—”

“More like two leeches feeding off each other,” Ewan finished for her, wiping his mouth with a napkin and nodding. “It’s not the classic star-crossed lovers bullshit. It’s darker… messier. There’s nothing romantic about it.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, approving smile. “Exactly. It’s like, Aemond spares her not because he loves her, but because she’s useful, she’s… an asset. And Alys, she’s not some helpless damsel. She’s got her own agenda. She’s in it for the power, the protection. Maybe even a little revenge.”

Ewan took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall, his expression thoughtful. “And then there’s all that shit about her being a witch or enchantress,” he said. “Bastard daughter of Lyonel Strong, maybe from an older generation… probably served as a wet nurse to Harwin and Larys. Could’ve even been around when Lyonel himself was a kid. Some say she bathed in maidens’ blood to stay young. I mean, fuck, that’s some crazy lore to have.”

“Right?” Y/N leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “And we’re supposed to sell this on screen. The idea that she’s at least forty, but looks young as hell, unnaturally young. There’s all these rumors swirling around her. She’s supposed to be this mysterious figure who might be pulling strings in the background, using Aemond as much as he’s using her.”

Ewan nodded, taking another bite of his kebab. “Yeah, that’s the crux of it. They’re both parasites, just leeching off each other. Alys needs Aemond for survival, for the power he brings as a prince, and Aemond… maybe he’s just fucked up enough to be into that, into her mystery, her darkness. But there’s no love. It’s not tender, it’s—”

“—purely transactional,” Y/N interjected, finishing his thought. “He keeps her alive, she gives him… I don’t know, maybe an edge? A sense of power? She’s like a trophy, a spoil of war he doesn’t quite understand but doesn’t want to let go of either.”

Ewan’s eyes sparkled with a strange kind of enthusiasm. “And the weird thing is, that’s exactly what makes it interesting. It’s not some fairytale. It’s raw, it’s real. Like, imagine how we could play that dynamic on screen—two people circling each other, never quite trusting, never fully connecting, but somehow bound together in this fucked-up dance.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes lighting up with the same fire. “Oh, I’m all in. Let’s lean into that. Make the audience uncomfortable. Make them question who’s really in control. Aemond’s got the power, the title, the dragon, but Alys? She’s got her own kind of power. A power that scares him.”

Ewan shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against hers as he leaned in. “Yeah, I see that. Aemond’s not just sparing her because he’s merciful; he’s sparing her because there’s something in her that speaks to the darker parts of him.”

Y/N nodded eagerly. “And Alys—she’s no fool. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s playing him, playing this twisted game where she’s both victim and victor. She’s a survivor, and she’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive, even if it means manipulating a prince.”

He laughed softly, his breath misting in the cold air. “It’s almost like they’re two sides of the same fucked-up coin. Both willing to use whatever they’ve got to survive. She’s his spoil of war, but he’s her key to something bigger.”

Y/N tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “So, how do we show that on screen? How do we make it clear that they’re both… parasites, but also predators in their own right?”

Ewan leaned forward, his voice low and intense. “I think we play with the power dynamic. Like, in one scene, Aemond thinks he’s got her under his thumb, but then there’s a moment—a glance, a whisper, something—that makes him second-guess. Makes the audience second-guess. Is she afraid, or is she playing him? And then in the next scene, she’s the one in control, but there’s always that tension, that threat of violence just under the surface.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes alight with excitement. “Yes, yes. And we need to make it physical too. Not in a sexy way, but in a way that shows their dependence on each other. Like, when they touch, it’s almost painful. It’s not about passion, it’s about possession. And the audience should feel that. Feel the discomfort, the unease.”

Ewan’s grin widened, his excitement palpable. “Fuck, I love this. It’s gonna be wild. People aren’t gonna know whether to hate them, root for them, or just feel fucking sick watching them.”

“Perfect,” Y/N agreed, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Because that’s exactly how it should be. No clear lines, no easy answers. Just two messed-up characters.”

Ewan chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna make one hell of a fucked-up power couple on screen, love.”

She smirked, finishing the last bite of her kebab and wiping her hands. “Well, if we’re gonna do this, we better do it right. Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget.”

And just like that, in the middle of a rainy, half-forgotten corner of a studio lot, they laid the groundwork for something undeniably electric. Something that would blur the lines, and the strange, unsettling dance that would soon unfold on screen.

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The neon sign above the dive bar flickered erratically, casting a dim pink glow over the rain-slicked street. Ewan leaned against a brick wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his breath misting in the cool night air. He checked his watch, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he spotted Y/N approaching, her hair damp from the drizzle, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“About time, rockstar,” he called out, pushing off. “Was starting to think you’d chickened out.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare, pulling the collar of her leather jacket tighter around her neck. “Not a fucking chance, Mitchell. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” She stopped in front of him, her breath visible in the cold. “Besides, I’m dying to see you butcher a Sex Pistols song.”

He laughed. “Oh, I’m gonna butcher it all right, but at least I’ll do it with style.”

When they entered Ewan’s favourite haunt, the place was already alive with noise — a crowd of people spilling out onto the street, laughter and shouts mixing with the sound of music bleeding through the walls. The bar itself was a dingy little hole-in-the-wall joint, the kind of place that reeked of spilled beer, sweat, and stale cigarettes — perfect for a night of raucous fun.

Ewan grabbed her hand without a second thought, pulling her through the throng of people, weaving between groups, dodging spilled drinks and overenthusiastic dancers. His hand felt warm and solid around hers, and she felt a thrill run up her spine as he led her toward the back, where the stage was set up for karaoke.

They found a spot near the bar, grabbed a couple of beers, and settled in to watch the chaos unfold. Someone was already up there belting out Anarchy in the UK, the crowd shouting along, half the lyrics lost in the drunken fervor.

“Alright,” Ewan said, leaning close to her ear to be heard over the noise. “What’s the game plan, then? Are we going full-on punk, or are we gonna scare everyone off with some Deftones?”

Y/N laughed, taking a swig of her beer. “Let’s save the Deftones for when everyone’s had a few more drinks. Gotta build up to that kind of intensity.” She tapped his shoulder with a teasing grin. “But I’m down to start with some Pistols. Pretty Vacant? God Save the Queen? What do you think?”

“Pretty Vacant it is,” Ewan declared, slamming his empty bottle down on the bar. “We’ll go up there, make some noise, and show these amateurs how it’s done.”

A few minutes later, they were on stage, the microphone in Ewan’s hand, and Y/N standing beside him, both of them grinning like idiots. The crowd cheered as the opening chords blared through the speakers, and Ewan launched into the song with a reckless abandon, his voice loud and raw, not giving a damn if he hit the notes or not.

Y/N joined in, her voice harmonizing with his, the two of them bouncing around, pulling ridiculous dance moves and throwing their arms around each other, their laughter spilling over the lyrics. Ewan’s voice cracked on the high notes, but it only made her laugh harder, and she nudged him with her shoulder, causing him to almost drop the mic.

“Oi, careful!” he shouted over the music, his smile wide and infectious.

“What?” she yelled back, still grinning. “Can’t handle a bit of roughhousing, Mitchell?”

He laughed, spinning her around in a playful twirl before pulling her close, their bodies pressed together as they sang, their voices blending into one chaotic sound. The crowd cheered louder, feeding off their energy, clapping and shouting as Ewan and Y/N tore through the song with an unfiltered joy that made everyone in the room feel like they were part of something wild, something free.

When the song ended, they stumbled off stage, breathless and laughing, grabbing fresh beers from the bar. Ewan’s hand found hers again, a reflex now, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

“You,” he said, panting, “are a fucking riot.”

Y/N raised her bottle in a mock toast. “Right back at ya. Didn’t think you had that much crazy in you, Mitchell.”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Stick with me, dove, and you’ll see plenty more.”

They spent the next few hours hopping back on stage, belting out punk classics, pulling out the most ridiculous dance moves they could think of, egging each other on. At some point, Ewan dropped to his knees, sliding across the sticky floor in a terrible imitation of an 80s rock star, while Y/N howled with laughter, egging him on with chants of “Encore! Encore!”

They took breaks to smoke out back, leaning against the graffitied wall of the bar, their breath mingling with the cold night air, the world spinning around them. Ewan lit a cigarette, passing it to her, their fingers brushing in the exchange.

“Alright,” Y/N said, taking a drag, her voice a little hoarse from all the singing and shouting. “I’ll admit it. You know how to show a girl a good time.”

Ewan’s grin was bright and unapologetic. “Told you, didn’t I? Never should’ve doubted my ability.”

She laughed, flicking ash off the cigarette. “I’m certainly not complaining.”

They smoked in comfortable silence for a moment, the noise from inside spilling out in waves.

Ewan took a final drag and flicked his cigarette away, turning to face her, his expression suddenly a bit more serious, though his eyes still held that glint of mischief. “So, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “What do you say we make this a regular thing? You and me, beers, bad dancing, and a hell of a lot of noise?”

She smirked, tilting her head slightly. “You offering to be my partner in crime, Mitchell?”

He took a step closer, their faces inches apart now. “I’m offering to be whatever you want, love. As long as it means more nights like this.”

Y/N’s smile softened, her voice almost a whisper. “Careful, Ewan. I might just take you up on that.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Good,” he replied, his voice steady. “Because I was hoping you would.”

And with that, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that tasted of beer, cigarettes, and something new — something neither of them could quite name yet, but both were eager to explore. The night felt endless, the city alive around them.

The sound of the door creaking open was drowned out by the music and drunken shouts pouring from the bar, but the voice that followed cut through the night like a whip crack.

“Oi! Get a fucking room, you two!”

Ewan and Y/N broke apart, breathless and startled, still close enough that their noses brushed. Ewan’s grin turned sheepish as he glanced over Y/N’s shoulder to find a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a smirk on his face, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The bartender, Harry, stood there, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

“Christ, Ewan,” Harry drawled, lighting up his smoke with a flick of his lighter. “Have some decency, will ya?”

Ewan laughed, his hand still on Y/N’s waist, a playful glint in his eye. “Can’t help it, mate. Your place has that kind of magic, you know?”

Harry snorted, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Magic, my arse. More like too many cheap beers and not enough sense.” He nodded at Y/N, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You got your work cut out for you with this one, love. He’s a right handful.”

Y/N grinned, leaning back slightly but not quite letting go of Ewan. “Oh, I’m starting to get that,” she teased, glancing up at Ewan. “But I think I can handle him.”

Ewan chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, I’m standing right here, you know.”

Harry gave a mock bow. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your little love fest. Just came out for a smoke, but if you’re gonna go all Romeo and Juliet on me, at least take it to the alley or something. Don’t need to see any more of your face-sucking than I already have.”

Ewan’s laugh was loud and unapologetic. “Alright, alright, you old bastard, we’ll take it elsewhere. Don’t want to scar you for life.”

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Too late for that, mate. But do me a favor — keep it PG-13 inside, yeah?”

Y/N gave a mock salute. “We’ll try our best.”

Harry shook his head, still chuckling to himself as he turned back toward the door. “I’ll hold you to that. And Ewan, you owe me a pint for that little show.”

“Deal,” Ewan shot back, still grinning as Harry disappeared back into the bar. He turned to Y/N, his expression softening just a fraction. “Guess we’ve got an audience now, huh?”

Y/N smirked, her voice teasing. “Seems like it. So, what do you say? Wanna go scandalize the rest of the neighborhood, or…?”

Ewan’s grin turned mischievous again. “Lead the way, love. I’m game if you are.”

They left the warm glow of the bar’s back entrance, stepping further into the night, their laughter echoing down the narrow alleyway as they disappeared into the London streets, leaving behind only the faint smell of smoke and the memory of a kiss that promised many more to come.

[aresthelostboy]

Yautja X Male!Scientist!Reader

[I’m using Wolf as the Yautja and this doesn’t follow the story in any way. If any facts are wrong, ignore it because I last watched the predator films at least three years ago. Can be read as GN!Reader.]

Summary: When the group of Yautja boarded your crews ship amongst the many stars of Galactica Primara, it was intended as a visit of a coming assistance. Gathered in the mess hall, partially converted for your human captain to present to the Yautja, he speaks of testing new subjects. They’re interested, so you get a visit, though you aren’t too worried. That is, until you realise just how attracted to one in particular you are…

You sigh, eyes closing for a moment as bitter disappointment sighs on you. The movements on the slide to the microscopes had slowly stopped and you find yourself reaching for the tape recorder once more. The rubber gloves squeaking against its plastic, you speak close to the microphone, an edge to your voice that follows a wasted sample.

“Test subject B57: Failed. Presumable death over the temperature and humidity. Resuming tests at 0800 hours on Friday 13, April, 2029. This is (y/n) signing out.”

You place the recorder down and, grabbing each edge of the gloves, you strip them from your skin and place them in the nearly overflowing bin beside you. Taking a few minutes to discard of the sample and disinfect everything, you look at your work station, slightly less annoyed now that it’s clean and tidy.

A loud beep sounds out, making you jump for a moment before you realise that it’s your personal communication cell that’s alerting you to an incoming message. Soon enough, the face of your second in command appears, as stern as ever. A grin tugs at your face, always tempted to rile up the easily angered man. It’s just too funny. Yet, today, he seems in brighter spirits so you wait to hear what he has to tell you.

“Ah Dr. (L/n)… finally. The message to the Yautja tribe was successful and their ship is inbound, ETA 3 minutes.”

You can’t help the genuine smile that pulls at your lips, knowing that it was a long-awaited meeting that had every higher up in floods of excitement.

“Congrats. If you need anything, you know I’ll be here. I’d rather stay out of the way and let you all deal with this,”

You gesture vaguely.

“and I’ll start a few other tests. B57 was a failure so I’ll be moving to C14 and going back to B tomorrow.”

All he does is nod before someone seems to shout him, his head snapping in the other direction before giving you a quick nod. Before you know it, the comms have been severed and you are left alone once more. Shrugging, it’s soon realised that the alien tribe must have arrived and you understand that they’re much more important than a time-wasting conversation.

Removing another pair of gloves from the packet, you put them on and ready up a new sample of an unknown organism, readying your scalpels and tweezers in order to soon pick apart the cell matter and individually study it. Placing the microphone of your recorder up to your mouth, you press at the button on the side. “Subject C14 test begins. Friday 12, April 2029. Time is currently 5:46pm.”

You don’t know how long has passed, only that the number of unseen messages from your commander on your comms has grown over the time. Only once the new source of matter has failed, as you had expected, you find yourself looking through the ignored remarks.

‘They want to look through your lab, is that alright?’ 5:59pm

‘Hello?’ 6:12pm

‘Y/n, they’re curious about the tests you do. Please?’ 6:17pm

Wincing while you read them, you deftly remove your gloves and shoot a response back hoping that, over the course of 39 minutes, you hadn’t majorly screwed up.

‘Should’ve called, was busy with tests. You can come by now if you’d like?’

Deciding to wait for the response, you don’t receive one, even after you’ve seen that he had read it. Once this is noticed, your heart rate increases, realising that speaking to your superior in such a way may not be the smartest idea. That is, until, there’s a knock at your door.

(A steel door that was only provided after you threw a fit about having dangerous subjects in an easily contaminated space. The crew didn’t care about the tests or the safety, they just wanted you to leave them alone so you finally got what you wanted.)

After checking yourself over, smoothing down your lab coat and making sure your hair wasn’t askew, your hand finds the automated doorway and it opens.

For all of your mind, the wish that you could’ve hid your reaction is high. Seeing a Yautja in a dark grey mask shouldn’t affect you in such a way, and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking what you are… The way your eyes widen slightly, not from fear but from curiosity and the way your breath catches in your throat, something they could definitely hear… it makes you flush slightly. Taking a breath, you look at your commander, nodding slightly before turning to the Yautja. Dark grey mask watches you with a tilted head and once it notices your gaze on it, his head snaps to look in the other direction.

Never had you believed an alien race to show such a predominantly human trait as embarrassment. It’s almost… cute? Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the thoughts and focus on the three in front of you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I assume you have translators?”

The largest one nods, it’s mask a light, titanium coloured grey and you smile slightly, hovering in the doorway. There’s one beside him, looking away and down, his posture slanted as if not wanting to be notice, this one’s mask is a darker grey. The others mask is black. These men… these creatures, surely they know basic rules of a lab. You sigh, shaking your head and addressing each one in turn.

“Please, don’t touch anything. And if your curious, ask. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

Flashing a smile at the unknown aliens seems out of place but you do so anyway, stepping back and allowing them into your space. One of them stops at the doorway, a darker grey mask on, watching you with great interest. A few clicks and trills catch your attention but, as the others don’t react, you don’t either. You watch back, curious as to who will break the eye contact first. He - would it be right to call it a he? - tilts his head slightly before stepping into the lab, following the others. It takes you a moment to notice your commander left but, oddly enough, you felt safe with the Yautja group. A few sharp clicks grab your attention and you turn to the light grey masked one, wondering about it’s attention grabbing sounds.

“This?”

A raspy and distorted voice comes from the mask, the creature pointing at one of your experiments. You can’t help the appreciation that paints your face as you step over, closer than most humans would feel comfortable, and begin explaining the intricacies. Throughout your speech, you feel eyes on you and, as you are seeing two of them looking at your experiments, there’s only one left to be doing so. Without breaking sentence, you turn to look at him and grin as you see him whip his head away in a tense, feigned interest in a sheet of paper… a blank sheet of paper. A slight laugh escapes you, only for him to look back, shoulders visibly dropping into relaxation. A quick smile is flashed his way and, believing you could trust the Yautja, you turn your back to continue your explanation.

You’d barely finished explaining what each component did, the two Yautja painfully invested in your words, when a quiet screech echoes through the metal room. The three of you turn to the last of their group, a hand in front of their greyed mask and a light green blood like substance sliding from their finger. Your frown, walking over quickly and finding he had touched one of the alien blades you had been studying earlier. “Are you alright?”

You can’t disguise the concern in your voice as you walk over, hesitating to touch him. Though, when he doesn’t pull away, you gently take his hand and inspect the wound. Hearing a few clicks and trills no longer bothers you, understanding it’s the same as humans humming or making basic noise. You look up at him, noticing that he hadn’t followed your one rule and has touched something. Shaking your head, the Yautja stills, watching you with interest.

“Silly Yautja.”

Though the words are said with amusement, there’s an underlying tone of worry and care. It makes the yautjas stare and stand as if petrified by Medusa herself. You continue to mutter to yourself, finding a bandage and wrapping up the bleeding cut. He tilts his head as you do so and when your ministration have been completed, he flexes his hand, only to look at you with a deep interest.

“Wolf.”

The deep growl comes from the one in front of you and you can easily tell what he had said. Though in the context it confused you.

“Sorry?”

It gestures to itself, repeating the word. After a moment you nod, smiling softly.

“Wolf? That’s your name?”

He nods, hesitating for a mere moment before tapping his bandage then on your chest, where your heart should be. It was easy enough to guess what he had meant, knowing that the courtesy of thanks had been passed throughout the galaxy. Smiling at him, you nod, tapping your own chest then his in turn. This seems to make him rumble quietly, an appreciative sound that vibrates through your bones as you touch his skin gently.

A quiet hum comes from behind and you jump, realising that you had enacted such an intimate (to their species, at least) moment in front of his clan mates. A light flush takes over your face as you pull away but Wolf lightly places his hands over yours, keeping you skin to skin with him. You bow your head slightly, aware that in may alien species, it was a sign of respect. It seems to be accurate as he gives another quiet rumble.

You find yourself wanting to hear that more and you stop yourself in your tracks. How could you fall for an alien race? It just wasn’t normal and shouldn’t happen… but he is cute. And you just know that behind the mask, he’ll still be better than the humans on this ship.

“Y/n.”

At the direct address, your head snaps up and you pull away from Wolf, much to the Yautjas displeasure. Your captain stands in the doorway, a slightly confused expression present yet he seems to shrug it off quickly.

“Whatever. The others say it’s time to leave and they are gathering in the common. So say goodbye to your… acquaintances.”

He watches you for a moment more and walks off, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. Turning away, you look back to the three Yautja and smile.

“I’ll walk you back?”

All eyes are on Wolf as he nods and clicks quietly, head tilted. The other two lead ahead and you walk with him, watching as he barely makes a sound, the hunter genes shining through. It interests you and, as your gaze becomes more focused, his body becomes more tense.

“You’re beautiful.”

You speak as if reading off facts from a list, stating it in such an obvious way that his mind stutterers for a second, causing his head to snap to your gaze in such a way that you don’t need to see him to wonder what he’s thinking.

“I mean, I love your mask and I can’t help but wonder what’s behind it. I bet you look cool. And your skin is gorgeous, like a snake, not to mention these claws!”

Your hand is in his, bringing them both up so you can trace a gentle finger across each of his sharp talons. He doesn’t pull away, relishing in the contact of such soft, warm skin and in such an innocently romantic way. Your eyes meet the ones of his mask and they shine, a bright smile filling your face.

“I hope we can communicate soon. Perhaps you all wish to come back and look around some more?”

The two of you are stood in the lobby, the other Yautja waiting by the ships entrance for him with a few warning growls and clicks following. Wolf nods, tapping his heart with his free hand and then tapping over yours. Though you don’t speak in such a language, you understand the meaning well enough, given the context. As you,let go of him, a sad smile paints your face.

“I hope you all return safely. We will welcome you back soon. Goodbye.”

The doors shut and you hold onto the fact he looked at you till the very last moment, you hold it with all your heart.

When you get back to your lab, you begin to tidy away the papers and left over rubbish that you had forgotten to put away only for something to catch your eye. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something as a… gift?

A pristine, off-white skull of a seemingly alien creature had been positioned carefully on the side of your desk and you find yourself smiling as you realise that was where Wolf had been stood. Though you had never been in contact with the race before, the message of such a gift was clear enough and you find yourself awaiting the next visit.

As for the skull, you place it on your emptied ledge over your desk. After all, there had to be plenty of space for the rest of the courting gifts, right?

[jaeyums]

Just One More (Part 11)

Pairings - Fratboy!Haechan x reader (lowkey x dreamies)

Word Count - 3k

Content Warning - smut (obvi), angst, slight corruption kink, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving). fingering, drinking, loss of virginity, Fratboy! Haechan (kinda), Toxic!Haechan, mentions of drowning (what??) pls Imk if I missed anything

Summary - You curse your new neighbours for partying what feels like every night, the booming bass making it impossible to sleep. Fed up, you finally ask them to turn it down, but when you're forced to make a seemingly harmless deal, things spiral faster than you ever could've imagined.

A/N - part two yippeee :3 sorry it was so late loll

previous | next

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You slowly open your eyes, immediately closing them again in pain as your head throbs.

“Holy fuck.”

Is all you’re able to say, as you try again to open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry. You reach for where your water bottle sits on your nightstand, only to find an empty space.

You continue to feel around the nightstand only for your eyes to fully adjust, and for you to realize this night stand is black rather than the off white colour you’re used to.

This shock wakes you up fully in a matter of seconds, and you look around an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed.

“Holy fuck.”

You repeat, the reality of your situation setting in. After a moment of processing, you quickly toss away to sheets, and sigh in relief as you see that all your clothes from the previous night are still on.

You check the other side of the bed hesitantly, patting on a puffy part of the blanket, only for it to sink down upon your touch.

Saying a small thank you to the universe, you climb out of the bed, and walk towards the door. You wrap your hands around the handle and push.

It doesn’t budge.

You twist and push again, still nothing. You try again with your whole body weight pressing against the door, only to here a groan come from the other side.

“Fuck, give me a second, would ya.”

A grumpy voice can be heard through the door.

“Haechan?”

You ask tentatively. Opening the door with ease after hearing a body shuffle out of the way.

“In the flesh.”

He says leaning against the other side of the hallway.

“Why did you sleep outside?”

“I knew you’d end up in my bed eventually , but I excepted me to be joining you. So I think the better question is why did you sleep inside, inside my room. ”

You tilt your head, that is a good question actually. You try to think back to last night, only for the sinking realization that you can’t remember much past the game of truth or dare.

“Oh god, what happened last night.”

Your voice slightly panicked. So many different scenarios start flipping through your head, like a disturbing film reel.

He just laughs looking entertained and surprisingly handsome for someone who slept on the floor all night.

“Does this mean you don’t remember our deal? Tsk tsk, I’m disappointed. No worries though, I remember the deal, so it’s no issue.”

“You made a deal with me while I was blacked out? You totally took advantage of me.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“If I actually wanted to take advantage of you, I could’ve. You were a mess.”

His words sting, a darkness in his eyes almost consuming you. Though, when he sees your face drop even more, he sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance and starts to explain.

“Not that long after truth or dare you locked yourself in here and told me to guard the door ‘with my life’.”

Now you look more confused than upset.

“Why would I do that?”

You wonder aloud.

“If I had to guess, it might’ve been from the fact that everyone here wanted to talk to you. Jaemin, Jeno, Chenle, Mark. You won’t alone for more than a second before someone wanted to steal you away.”

Something hangs between the lines as he speaks, a negative emotion your hungover state can’t place it’s finger on.

“Okay…so what was the deal?”

You’re almost scared to ask.

“That you’ll come to my next party.”

He smiles widely, he finds himself hilarious.

“Are you serious.”

“Dead, but the next one isn’t here, it’s at my parents’ house. They’re gone for the weekend and the pool there is sick.”

“A pool party?”

He nods, pushing himself off the wall to move closer to you.

“Now how about you scamper on home. You’ve had a long night.”

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

The next day while on facetime with your friend, you decide to tell her about the party. She’s half listening while doing her makeup, but when you mention Haechan she freezes.

“Wait did you say Haechan? Like Lee Haechan? Tall? Black hair? Sarcastic? Sexy?”

“Uh yeah? Why?”

You ask confused, but by the expression on her face, your know whatever your friend is about to say is bad news.

“Y/n he is a known fuckboy. Like he’s in a frat for godsake. You need to be careful around him, I’m serious.”

You roll your eyes annoyed.

He’s Mr. pump and dump, smash and dash, ejaculate and evacu-“

“okay okay I get it, thank you,”

You cut her off, getting the message loud and clear.

“I wasn’t planning on getting with him, don’t worry. He couldn’t get close even if he tried.”

“Didn’t you just say you blacked out and slept in his bed.”

“Okay shut up, it won’t happen again.”

She nods, looking unconvinced. You two continue to chat until you get another call, this time from an unsaved number.

“Wait I’m getting a call, gimme a sec.”

You answer the call bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hello? This is y/n right?”

“Uh yes, speaking?”

“It’s me, don’t get too excited.”

You sigh, his familiar voice teasingly heard through the phone.

“How did you get my number, Haechan.”

“You gave it to me when you were drunk.”

“No I didn’t.”

There’s a long pause.

“…I got it off Jisung’s phone.”

That definitely makes more sense, you know you were black out, but there was no chance you would have given Haechan your number.

“I’m just calling to make sure you’re still coming to the party tonight? I’m already at the place getting stuff ready, it’s gonna be lit.”

“Do I have to go?”

You whine, hoping he’ll take some sympathy on you from how tired you sound.

“Yup! See you then.”

You hear a long tone, signalling he’s hung up. Fine, you’ll go to his pool party, but he never said anything about actually swimming. You do enough of that at work anyways.

Calling back your friend, you quickly update her on who called and what he said. She gave you a worried look, warning you again to be careful.

With the closet doors swung open, you start shifting through your clothes trying to pick an outfit. You get an idea, turning back to your phone.

“Wait, why don’t you just come with me? That way you can keep an eye on this whole Haechan thing and we can have fun for once.”

“Can’t I have an opening shift tomorrow.”

You groan in response, turning back to your closet in defeat.

“Whatever I didn’t even want you to go anyways.”

You tease.

The two of you continue to joke around, her giving you advice on what to wear and you modelling your options.

You end up settling on short denim shorts, paired with a white baby tee. With everything said and done, you tell her good bye before grabbing your keys and heading out to the party

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

The house is bigger than you ever would’ve imagined and it is jumping. This party was massive, especially compared to his previous party. People had gathered all over the property, some on the front lawn, some on a balcony up above you head.

You shift your weight between your feet, suddenly feeling nervous. Once again you feel the need to find Haechan, rationalizing your thoughts by saying it’s only to ensure he knows you held up your side of the deal. You were an hour late so he’s probably wondering where you are, right?

You’re barely two steps into the house when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/n! Get your ass over here, love.”

Jeno stands next to Chenle and Mark, the three of them already holding red solo cups.

“Go grab a drink.”

Jeno gestures with his head towards where the kitchen must be located. You shake your head with an awkward smile.

“I can’t drink, and I’m serious this time. I drove here.”

The boys look a little disappointed but nod in understanding. They continue to talk amongst each other, but you can’t listen, your eyes scanning the crowd nonstop.

Mark interrupts your search with a smirk.

“Looking for someone special?”

He teases, but you can tell he already knows who your dying to see.

“He’s outside, near the pool.”

With that you say goodbye, telling them you’ll be back in a bit, and head off towards the backyard.

The music is just as loud outside as it is inside, your ears still not fully adjusted. The pool itself is quite big as well, although there are very few people actually swimming. Most of them just sitting along the edge talking, only dipping there feet in.

The familiar smell of chlorine tickles your nose and you do a quick scan of the pool, simply out of habit when you notice a boy bobbing a bit in what you assume to be the deep end.

“Oh god please don’t actually be drowning.”

You whisper to yourself, your eyes still locked onto him, he was clearly struggling but you were having a hard time figuring out if it was just a prank or if he was really sinking.

Suddenly his head dips bellow the surface and doesn’t return, and you spring into action, running to the edge closest to him and diving in.

Under the water you can see him, still struggling, but his eyes slowly closing. You hook your arms around his, securing him in your grasp, and pinching his nose with your other hand. You kick back to the surface, your lungs starting to burn.

Returning to the surface, you see a couple boys waiting at the edge, you shout instructions to them as you tow the boy in their direction.

Ordering them on how to lift him out, you plunge back into the water, sitting the boy on your shoulder. You tap the deck three times, signalling to the boys to pull him up, and you push him upwards as hard as you can.

They drag him away from the pool and you climb out quickly, following them. You’re fully locked in, having done this a hundred times.

Sitting next to him as he coughs, you run through your typical checklist. He turns out to be relatively fine, just a stupid victim of drinking and swimming, something that should never mix.

As you continue to talk to him, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Haechan staring at you with such intensity you almost flinch.

“I saw everything, are you okay?”

“Of course, I mean it’s always a little scary but I’m fine. I’m more worried about him.”

“He’s fine, just an idiot. Here, let’s get you dried off.”

You now remember that you’re not actually wearing your guarding uniform. Looking down, you realize your white shirt has become completely see through, sticking to your body, your red bra on full display.

“Yeah okay, thank you.”

With that he grabs your hand and leads you through the party to his bedroom upstairs, weaving between people in crowded places.

“This is my room, head inside. I’ll be right back.”

You open the door hesitantly, turning back for his reassurance, but he has already disappeared. You walk inside to see his room is surprisingly neat. It’s pretty big too, with posters lining his walls, he even has a balcony that overlooks the backyard.

You notice a mirror attached to his closet and walk over to see how much of a mess you look right now. Your mascara is ruined, running down your face like you just watched the saddest movie ever. You hair is soaked, it looks almost intentionally slicked back, except for a stray strand or two.

While fussing with it, you hear the door open, but you pay Haechan no mind as he enters, closing the door behind him. You’re much too occupied fixing your hair.

He comes behind you, brining his head next to yours, staring at your reflection with darkened eyes.

“You look so pretty.”

He whispers, bringing his hand around the opposite side of your head to smudge some of the black staining your cheeks.

“What I wouldn’t give to make your mascara run like this”.

You feel your face heat up, your stomach doing a flip from to his words and touch. You swat his hand away, turning your face.

“Shut up, Haechan.”

He just smirks, and hands you a folded towel. You hastily take it and walk over to his connected bathroom. You lock the door behind you and undress.

The shower itself is heavenly. The water on your skin had became cold, so the heat of the water pouring down felt amazing. You wash your hair and do your best to rid your face of the racoonish look it’s taken.

You finally finish, wrapping the towel just below your shoulders once you’re dry. You reach for your clothes before realizing they’re still soaked. It had completely slipped your mind that you’d need new clothes.

You tentatively open the door, peaking your head around the room. You see Haechan laying on his bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. You call out to him, and he looks up, his eyes instantly devouring you.

“I uh, could I borrow some clothes? Mine are still wet.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, still taking you in. Finally, he gets up, and walks over to his closet.

“Lemme see what I have, I might have some old sweatpants that might fit.”

He ends up picking black sweat pants and a matching black long sleeve, tossing both to you. You catch them with one hand, not daring to let go of the towel.

Slipping back into the bathroom, you quickly change. You check out your new outfit in the bathroom mirror. Both items are way too big for you. Even though the shirt is massive it somehow still hugs the curves of your breasts. You don’t love the fact that you have nothing on underneath Haechans clothes.

You step back into his room where he’s waiting for you.

“How do the pants fit?”

You pull up the shirt slightly with one hand, and pull up the sweats with the other, before dropping them, demonstrating how they drop down landing just below your hip bones.

“What do you think?”

You ask sarcastically. He let’s out a little laugh at your demonstration, stepping closer.

“Here let me help.”

He grabs the waist of the pants, rolling them up once then twice. His fingers ghosting your bare waist in the process. When he finishes, his hands still remain. You can’t help but hyper focus on his touch, on how his warm hands feel on your skin.

Tension fills the air. You look up at him, meeting his gaze. There’s another pause, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Kiss me already.”

You whisper, it’s barely audible, you would’ve wondered if he had even heard you if he hadn’t already dipped down, meeting your lips with his.

His grip on your waist tightens as he pushes you against the wall, his leg moving to find home between yours.

Your mouths move together unison, you feel yourself falling deeper in his trance. Though, there’s still a small whisper in your head, reminding you of your friends words, her warning.

Before you can pay attention to it, Haechan starts to push your body down on his thigh, guiding you to grind slowly against it. His kisses moving to your neck, causing you to tilt your head back on the wall in pleasure.

A hand snakes up your waist to rest on your breast, his thumb running over your bud delicately. A small moan escapes your lips, and you swear you can feel him smile against the skin of your neck.

He continues to attack your neck, his hand squeezing and massaging your breast rhythmically.

You pull his head back up by his chin to kiss him, your lips were feeling lonely.

He picks you up, and your legs wrap instinctually around his waist. He carries you to his bed, laying you down gently.

His arms resting on either side of your head, he looks down on you like you’re a feast for kings and he is starving.

He gives you quick but deep kiss, before moving down your body. His hand moves to the waist of your sweatpants, but you grab it before he can slide them down your legs.

“Haechan.”

You say breathlessly, staring down at him with puppy-like eyes.

“Yes, y/n?”

“I..I don’t want to move too fast.”

He looks up at you, a smirk slowly growing on his face. Your innocence is so cute to him.

“Don’t worry princess, you don’t have to move at all. I’ll do all the work.”

He teases, but he still doesn’t move, waiting for your approval to continue.

You bite your lip. Your friend’s warning ringing through your head again.

Fuck it, just one more night with Haechan can’t hurt.

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tags : @snflwrhaerecs4u @ki-aechan @loveforred @whiplashhhh @miniminkis @milimo07 @neocityhoe @90s-belladonna @toroufriteh @renjunniex @chimiwimi @cas104 @dongsookie0606

[saturdaynightspecialpresentation]

Poor Things

First of all, Emma Stone’s performance is as good as everybody is saying. Stone takes a very difficult role that easily could have gone very, very wrong and makes it look like the most effortless thing in the world.

I have been looking at the reviews, good and bad, and I think that the minority of people who didn’t vibe with this movie had slightly skewed expectations.

Poor Things starts out at Tetsuo The Iron Man levels of fucked up, but by the end it has dropped to Edward Scissor hands levels of fucked up. This is probably plenty of weirdness for the average movie-goer, but true connoisseurs of mondo cinema should calibrate their expectations.

Second, apparently this is being talked up as a sort of feminist coming of age fable chronicling an everywoman’s sexual awakening and liberation, and it really isn’t that, and I think if you are hoping for that you’ll come away disappointed.

Better, I think, to look at it as an autistic coming of age fable and power fantasy, which I think it does a tremendous job at.

Very minor spoilers under the cut; really, this is more an essay about what I thought the film was about than a review, my review would be that it's somehow simultaneously a feel-good crowd-pleaser AND a movie where an adult woman with the brain of a toddler stabs the eyes out of a corpse with a scalpel and then plays with its penis (I wasn't kidding with the Tetsuo comparison)

Honestly now that I've actually written that out I have maybe underestimated how impressive it is that Yorgos Lanthimos made a movie where that happens on screen but somehow basically everybody loves the movie.

In terms of sex, we do watch Bella discover sex, but she very quickly comes to a conclusion about her relationship with it which never once changes throughout the rest of the movie:

She likes it, she likes it more with an attractive partner, she is utterly lacking in any kind of sexual jealousy, and she doesn't attach too much more to it than that.

This is an odd comparison, but Bella treats sex the way Joey did on Friends. A man acting this way is a sitcom cliche, but a woman acting the same way…

This is a film that is really, really not interested in the real-world consequences of this kind of sex; in fact, given that a pregnancy is the inciting incident of the film, it came off a little weird to me that the possibility of a pregnancy or STD was never really addressed (unless there was a line or two that I missed while I was in the bathroom).

For the most part, though, I was able to get past it by just thinking of it as a heightened world. The sets and settings are extremely artificial, and ultimately I figured, “Hey, if I can buy this kind of thing as harmless and fun in a sitcom, I can buy it in this other kind of heightened reality.

I will say, I don't think Bella is meant to be an every-woman, and that there's textual support for this in the film itself.

All of the women Bella deals with in some way question her approach to sex, making it clear, sometimes through explicit dialog, other times more reading between the lines, that her approach to sex is not for them.

If there’s any particularly feminist message in the film, it’s that when confronted with Bella’s bizarre approach to the world, none of the women get angry at her, and most of the men she meets do.

But Bella’s relationships with other women aren’t really the meat of the film, that’s more about her relationship with men, and particularly the way that they feel, deep in their bones, that they should have control over any woman that they have sex with.

Duncan Wedderburn, when he first discovers Bella and convinces her to go away with him, thinks he is tricking and seducing a beautiful naif who he can use and then discard when he tires of her. Their relationship disintegrates as it becomes clear that Bella hasn’t been tricked at all; she wanted exactly what he was able to give, a chance to sow her wild oats by having some no strings attached sex with an attractive, likable person in an exciting foreign city.

This makes Wedderburn increasingly unhappy and unhinged (He says at one point that he has become what he hates, a “grasping succubus”) much to Bella’s growing consternation. She has no idea why he can’t simply be happy having sex with her and otherwise letting her do what she wants, and he is so committed to a certain vision of gender roles that he can’t even begin to explain it, he can only lash out in frustration.

And that I think is the meatier part of the film; Bella doesn’t so much flout social expectations as she is simply totally unaware that they exist. 

Honestly I think the character isn’t so much coded as autistic as she just is autistic. Bella is a woman who is basically totally unaware of social expectations and constantly taken aback to discover that they exist.

More than that, she has to figure out a way to work around the fact that many of the people who become most enraged by her are also so totally lacking in self-reflection, and view their social situation as so normal, so self-evidently obvious that they cannot explain to her why it is she has made them angry. They suddenly fly into rages that clearly perplex Bella and which they themselves don’t even bother to explain, because they regard their own ideas as self-evident.

Bella is an idealized autistic hero; personally as outlandish as she is I don’t really think the film expects us to take the side of anybody else, and I think there are some fairly subtle and accurate bits of autistic behavior on her part.

She responds to life as a kind of social experiment, attempting to parse out a set of logical rules and, especially in the latter parts of the movie, she often justifies her actions with a perfectly sensible internal logic that the emotional men in her life can’t parse out. Late in the film, when she and Wedderburn are destitute, she prostitutes herself for 30 francs, and with implacable logic, explains the two reasons that Wedderburn ought to be quite happy she has done so: First, her john was much worse at sex than Wedderburn, which ought to satisfy his ego, and second, they now have 30 francs and the potential to earn more.

Wedderburn does not appreciate her logical approach.

Another thing that strikes me as very true is that Bella has a very odd theory of mind for other people. There’s a scene where, traumatized by the unspeakable poverty and suffering she sees in Alexandria, she puts all of Wedderburn’s money in a box and rushes out to give it to the poor. Unfortunately the ship is leaving, but two port attendants tell her that they will be staying on the island, and would be happy to deliver a package. She tells them that she has a big box filled with money and they should give it to the island’s poor, and they agree to do so. Now, the film never tells us one way or another whether they keep their word; but Bella herself retains an iron certainty that they did exactly what she asked them to. Now, we know Bella understands what lying and deceit are, because we’ve seen her trick people before, like when she chloroforms McCandles to run away with Wedderburn. But it never once occurs to her that these sailors might do something similar. Call it paradoxical, but that kind of thinking is common in autistic people.

There’s also the scene where the self-professed cynic Harry Astley shows her the suffering in Alexandria; he admits, when he sees how terribly it has affected her, that he didn’t tell her simply because he thought it was the truth of the world, but that her attitude made him angry, and he wanted to hurt her. A very common part of the autistic coming of age is the slow realization that not everything people tell you is part of a dispassionate, scientific search for the truth.

There’s also a scene in a whorehouse in which Bella argues that it would make more sense to have the women decide who is to sleep with the johns, so that then the john could be more confident that the girl was attracted to him, which he must doubt if he chooses. You can tell I’m autistic because I immediately had the thought, “Well, but the johns would probably be worried that nobody would choose them.”

One of Bella’s fellow working girls instead tells her, “Some of them like the fact that we don’t have a choice”.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 12/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, age gap

Word Count: 6511

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next few days were a blur of tension and frustration for Jensen. Danneel’s constant presence and the ongoing strain in their relationship drove him to seek solace in his messages and calls with you. Each interaction was a lifeline, providing a brief escape from the chaos at home. You both kept each other updated, sharing moments of your daily lives and maintaining the connection you had built.

When Jensen finally left for the set, he felt a sense of relief, but it was short-lived. The demands of his work increased, and as soon as he got immersed in filming, his messages and calls grew less frequent. You noticed the change, feeling a pang of disappointment and worry. It seemed as though his interest in you was waning, and the silence stretched between you.

It had been six weeks since your night together, and Jensen hadn’t called or texted for the past three days. The uncertainty gnawed at you, making you question the bond you shared. In a moment of vulnerability, you reached out to Jared, asking if he was free to meet up. He responded positively, and the two of you decided to get a drink to catch up and take your mind off things.

Now, as you waited for Jared to pick you up, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety. You wondered if you had misread the signals from Jensen, if maybe the distance and his busy schedule had taken a toll on your budding relationship. The anticipation of seeing Jared provided a small comfort, knowing you would have a friend to talk to.

When Jared arrived, he greeted you with a warm smile. “Hey, how are you holding up?”, he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

You shrugged, trying to mask your worry. “I’ve been better, honestly. It’s just… complicated”.

Jared nodded, understanding. “I get it. Let’s go get that drink and talk it out”.

The two of you headed to a nearby bar, the atmosphere lively and welcoming. As you settled into a booth, Jared ordered drinks for both of you. The environment helped you relax a bit, and you felt grateful for his presence.

“So, what’s been going on?”, Jared asked, leaning forward with a supportive expression.

You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered how much to share. You knew Jared was probably Jensen’s best friend, and you didn’t want to cross any lines or betray Jensen’s trust. The weight of your thoughts made it difficult to find the right words.

Jared sensed your hesitation and gently urged, “Hey, it’s okay. You can talk to me. I promise, whatever you say stays between us”.

You took a deep breath, still feeling uncertain. “I just don’t want to come across as too clingy”, you began, your voice wavering slightly. “But honestly, I’ve been feeling really worried”.

Jared’s expression softened even further, and he nodded encouragingly. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s going on”.

“Well”, you started, trying to organize your thoughts, “Jensen and I had been talking regularly, and everything felt so good. But ever since he started filming, his messages have become less frequent, and now it’s been three days without any contact. I can’t help but feel like he’s pulling away”.

Jared frowned slightly, considering your words. “I know it’s tough”, he said slowly. “Filming can be really demanding, and sometimes it’s hard to keep up with personal stuff. But I’ve known Jensen for a long time, and if he’s not reaching out, it’s probably because he’s genuinely busy, not because he’s lost interest”.

You looked down, feeling a bit ashamed of yourself for doubting Jensen. “I know he’s busy, but it’s just hard not to worry”, you admitted softly.

Jared reached out and gently placed a hand on your arm. “Hey, it’s okay to feel that way”, he said reassuringly. “Filming days can be really intense. They can stretch on for twelve, sometimes even sixteen hours. By the time he gets back to his trailer or wherever he’s staying, he’s probably exhausted”.

You nodded, understanding but still feeling the weight of your concerns. “I just don’t want to lose what we have”, you said quietly.

Jared gave you a warm smile. “I haven’t seen Jensen this happy in a long, long time”, he said earnestly. “He actually texted me a while back about how he can’t stop thinking about you. He was so excited and asked me for advice, but then he made me promise not to tell you because he didn’t want to seem, in his words, ‘like a pussy´”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension easing a bit. “He said that?”.

Jared chuckled. “Yeah, he did. He’s really into you, trust me. Sometimes, he just needs a little nudge to remember to show it”.

Jared sipped on his drink, taking a moment before he continued. “You know, he even finally took the first step and set an appointment with a lawyer to get information about a divorce”, he said, his tone serious. “He’s going to do it when he’s in Austin for the convention in two weeks”.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”, you asked, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension.

“Yeah”, Jared confirmed, nodding. “He hasn’t done anything like this in over six years. You’re the reason he finally wants to change something about his life. He’s tired of the facade, and he wants to be genuinely happy”.

The weight of Jared’s words settled over you, bringing a flood of emotions. “I had no idea”, you said softly, feeling both overwhelmed and relieved.

“He didn’t want to put pressure on you or make you feel like you were responsible for his decisions”, Jared explained.

You nodded, absorbing the gravity of what Jared was saying. The idea that Jensen was making such significant changes because of his feelings for you was both exhilarating and daunting.

Jared continued, his voice gentle but firm. “Whatever this is between the two of you, Jensen definitely wants to see where it could lead. He’s not the kind of guy who throws around the word ‘love’ lightly or labels things too quickly. If there’s one thing you can be sure of, it’s that he needs time. He always has”.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. “I understand”, you said quietly. “I’m willing to give him that time”.

Jared smiled, his eyes warm with encouragement. “Believe me, he’s never cared about anyone the way he cares about you. Like, ever. I always told him that at some point he would meet his equal match, and I think he finally has”, He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the weight of your worries lifting slightly. “Thank you, Jared. Hearing this from you means a lot”.

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink. “Anytime. Just hang in there, and things will work out. Jensen’s a good guy, and he deserves to be happy. So do you”.

The evening continued with lighter conversation, the heavy topics giving way to laughter and shared stories. By the time you said goodbye to Jared and headed home, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination.

After Jared dropped you off at your apartment, you thanked him again for the evening and his reassuring words. Once inside, you got ready for bed, feeling a mix of exhaustion and lingering hope. As you settled under the covers, you decided to try calling Jensen, hoping to hear his voice and maybe get some reassurance directly from him.

You dialed his number and listened to the phone ring, but after a few moments, it went to voicemail. Sighing, you tried not to let disappointment creep back in. You reminded yourself of everything Jared had told you, about how busy Jensen was and how much he cared about you.

Determined to stay positive, you typed out a message: “Hey, I hope everything on set is going well. I miss you and can’t wait to see you. It’s only two weeks left! Take care”.

You hit send and set your phone on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter having reached out. As you closed your eyes, you focused on the promise of seeing him again soon, letting Jared’s words of encouragement replay in your mind.

As you woke up the next morning, you reached for your phone with a sense of anticipation, hoping to find a message from Jensen in response to your text. However, as you unlocked your phone and checked your messages, there was still nothing from him.

A pang of disappointment washed over you, despite your efforts to stay positive the previous night. You stared at the screen for a moment, trying to push away the creeping doubt and insecurity. You reminded yourself that Jared had emphasized how demanding Jensen's schedule could be.

Taking a deep breath, you decided not to dwell on it. Instead, you focused on getting ready for your day, hoping that Jensen would reach out when he had a moment. You busied yourself with work and errands, trying to keep your mind occupied and not let the lack of communication affect your mood.

Throughout the day, you periodically checked your phone, hoping for a message that didn't come. Each time, the absence of a reply caused a twinge of anxiety, making you wonder if something had changed between you two.

As the hours passed, you tried to distract yourself with other activities, but Jensen's silence weighed on your mind. You found it hard to shake the feeling of uncertainty, wondering if your message had been too much or if something else was bothering him.

By the evening, you decided to give him a bit more time before reaching out again. You knew he had a lot on his plate, and you didn't want to add pressure by bombarding him with messages. Instead, you resolved to be patient and trust that he would respond when he could.

As you prepared for bed that night, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing to hear from Jensen. You hoped that tomorrow would bring a message from him, reassuring you that everything was okay and that he was still looking forward to seeing you in two weeks. With that hope in your heart, you settled under the covers, hoping for a peaceful night's sleep despite the lingering uncertainty.

It wasn’t until midnight, when you were barely awake anymore, that your phone buzzed, rousing you from the edge of sleep. Groggily, you glanced at the screen and saw Jensen’s name flashing. Your heart leapt with a mix of relief and exhaustion as you answered the call.

“Hey”, you murmured, your voice heavy with fatigue.

“Hey”, Jensen’s voice came through, sounding equally tired but warm. “I’m sorry for calling so late. It’s been a crazy day on set, and I just finished up”.

You sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering worry in your breath. “It’s okay, I’m just glad to hear from you. I was starting to get worried”.

“I know, and I’m really sorry about that”, he said, his tone sincere. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. Things have been intense here, and I’ve been trying to catch up with everything. I miss you”.

“I miss you too”, you replied softly, your eyes closing as you listened to his voice. “I was just hoping everything was alright”.

“Everything’s fine, just really hectic”, he reassured you. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. It’s just been hard to find a moment to breathe, let alone call”.

You smiled weakly, feeling a bit better hearing his explanation. “I get it”, you replied, sympathy lacing your tired voice. “I know filming can be crazy. Just hearing from you now makes it all better”.

Jensen sighed softly on the other end of the line, his fatigue palpable even through the phone. “I wish I could be there with you”, he confessed, his voice tinged with longing.

“I wish that too”, you murmured, your heart fluttering at his words. Despite the distance and the challenges, you felt a deep connection with him, one that seemed to grow stronger with each conversation, even if they were infrequent lately.

There was a brief pause before Jensen spoke again, his voice softer now. “Hey, I have something to tell you”, he began tentatively.

Your curiosity piqued, you propped yourself up on your elbow, suddenly more awake. “What is it?”, you asked, a mix of anticipation and apprehension coloring your tone.

Jensen hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. “I… um… I’ve been thinking a lot about us”, he admitted slowly. “About what we talked about before, and… I think… I want to talk about it more when I see you”.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. “Okay”, you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

“I just…”, Jensen paused again, his voice slightly husky.

Your heart raced at his words, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooding your system. Despite the warmth in his voice, a nagging self-doubt crept into your thoughts, making you question the depth of his commitment.

“Jensen”, you began hesitantly, your voice barely a whisper, “you don’t want to end whatever this is, right?”.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he processed your question. When he finally spoke, his voice was firm and reassuring.

“No! No, absolutely not”, he said, the conviction in his tone clear.

Jensen let himself fall back onto the couch in his trailer, still in his Soldier Boy suit. The weight of the day and the intensity of the conversation seemed to melt away as he heard the relief in your voice.

“Thank you”, you whispered, feeling a surge of affection for him. “I needed to hear that”.

He smiled, though you couldn’t see it, the warmth in his expression evident in his voice. “I promise, we’ll figure this out. Just hang in there a little longer”.

“Okay”, you agreed softly, feeling the exhaustion of the day starting to catch up with you again. “I trust you”.

There was a short silence, comfortable yet charged with unspoken emotions. Wanting to lift the mood, you decided to tease him a bit. “So, how’s it going being Soldier Boy? Does the suit still fit after all these months?”.

Jensen chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Barely”, he admitted with a playful groan. “You’d think they’d make these suits a bit more comfortable. I feel like a stuffed sausage half the time”.

You laughed softly, the image of him struggling with the tight suit bringing a smile to your face. “Well, I think you look great in it”, you said, your voice filled with affection. “But I might be a bit biased”.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence”, Jensen replied, his tone light. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m going to have permanent marks from this thing”.

“You’re tough. You’ll survive”, you teased. “Just don’t forget to take it off before you go to bed. I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to sleep in”.

Jensen laughed again, the tension from earlier melting away. “I promise I won’t. But now that you mention it, I could use some help with the zipper…”.

You rolled your eyes playfully, even though he couldn’t see it. “Nice try, Ackles. I’m sure you can manage”.

“I guess I’ll have to”, he sighed dramatically, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “But I’ll save the real struggle for when I get to see you”.

“I’ll hold you to that”, you said softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.

“Goodnight, Jensen”, you added, your voice filled with affection.

“Goodnight Baby”, he replied, his tone equally tender.

As soon as the nickname slipped out, both your hearts skipped a beat. You had already ended the call, but the word hung in the air, leaving a lingering sense of intimacy and affection. Jensen stared at his phone for a moment, then slapped his face lightly in annoyance at himself. “Nice going”, he muttered under his breath, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring his thoughts.

Meanwhile, you lay back on your pillow, a broad smile spreading across your face. The nickname, though simple, made you feel all giddy. You couldn’t help but feel like a love-drunk teenager, the excitement of your relationship making everything seem brighter.

Jensen took a deep breath, the exhaustion of the day starting to catch up with him. Despite his slip-up, he couldn’t stop smiling. Grabbing his phone again, he texted Jared: “Thanks for the hint, she really was a bit off. Should have texted her sooner. I’m so fucking bad at this”.

Jared, relaxing at home, chuckled as he read Jensen’s message. He quickly typed back: “No problem. Yeah, she did seem a bit lost so I thought a heads-up would help you. No wonder, Ackles, your dating life—like real dating life—was a bit rusty”.

Jensen laughed softly at Jared’s response, appreciating his friend’s honesty and support. He typed back: “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for having my back, man”.

Jared smiled as he replied: “Anytime, buddy. I really like her. There’s no way I’m gonna let you sabotage this relationship”.

Jensen read Jared’s message with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. He knew Jared always had his best interests at heart, and hearing his friend’s approval of you meant a lot. Typing back, Jensen said: “I know, man. I’m not letting this slip away".

Jared’s response came swiftly: “Good. Just keep communicating. She’s a great catch, and you know it”.

Jensen sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and determination after reading Jared’s message. He knew his friend was right—communication and honesty were key. Determined to keep things on track, he set his phone aside and headed to the bathroom to shower.

The hot water cascading over his tired muscles was a welcome relief, washing away the stress and fatigue of the day. As he stood under the spray, Jensen let his thoughts drift to you. The memory of your voice, your smile, and the warmth of your presence brought a smile to his face. He couldn’t wait to see you again and make things right.

After his shower, Jensen dried off and climbed into bed, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up with him. He grabbed his phone one last time to send you a message: “Goodnight. Sweet dreams. Can’t wait to see you”.

With that, he set his phone on the nightstand and turned off the light, letting the comforting darkness envelop him.

The next few days, Jensen made a concerted effort to text you more frequently and call you whenever he had a spare moment, even if it was just for a few minutes. You appreciated his efforts, feeling more connected and reassured by his consistent communication. Meanwhile, you met with Jared twice that week, catching up, grabbing food, and just enjoying each other’s company. Jared’s presence provided a comforting distraction, and his insights about Jensen’s busy life helped ease your concerns.

One evening, it was pretty late when your phone buzzed with an incoming video call from Jensen. Your heart skipped a beat as you answered the call. The screen lit up with Jensen’s face, and you instantly sucked in your lip at the sight of him in his Soldier Boy suit. He was lying relaxed in bed, the dark green fabric accentuating his strong build and making him look effortlessly alluring.

“Hey”, you greeted him, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rush of emotions. “You look… intense”.

Jensen chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Yeah, still in costume. It’s been a long day”, he said, running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to catch you before you fell asleep”.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’m glad you called. It’s been a while since we did this”.

He nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I know, and I’m sorry about that. Things have just been so crazy. But I’ve missed seeing your face”.

“Me too”, you admitted. “How’s everything going on set?”.

“Busy, but good”, he replied, adjusting his position slightly. “We’re making progress, and I’m happy with how things are shaping up. But a bit more time to spend with you would be nice”.

“We’ll have our time soon enough”, you said, trying to keep the conversation light. “Only a little longer, right?”.

“Yeah, only a little longer”, he echoed, his gaze lingering on your face through the screen. “I can’t wait”.

The two of you continued to talk, catching up on the details of your lives, sharing stories, and enjoying the connection that had been hard to maintain amidst his busy schedule. Jensen’s presence, even through a screen, brought a sense of comfort and closeness that you had missed dearly.

“Can you show me more of the suit?”, you asked teasingly, wanting to lighten the mood and see more of the costume that made him look so imposing yet irresistible.

Jensen grinned at your request, amused by your playful tone.

“Alright, here we go”, he said, chuckling softly. “Just remember, it’s not exactly designed for comfort”.

As he moved slightly, adjusting to give you a better view, you couldn’t help but admire how the dark green fabric accentuated his physique. The suit looked sleek and formidable, yet seeing Jensen in it made you feel a mix of pride and admiration.

“There”, Jensen said finally, settling back against the pillows. “That’s about all you’re gonna get. It’s not the most comfortable thing to lounge around in”.

You grinned, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Well, you sure look pretty hot in it”, you said, your voice playful yet sincere.

Jensen’s eyes twinkling with amusement. “Glad you think so”, he replied, his tone teasing. “Though I’d much rather be out of it and comfortable”.

“Do you still have to film tonight?”, you asked softly.

Jensen nodded, brushing his hand over his face. “Yeah, just a 30-minute break right now”, he mumbled, his voice heavy with fatigue.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips. “You really want to help?”.

“Of course”, you replied earnestly, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. “Anything to make it a bit easier for you”.

Jensen’s grin widened, his eyes brightening with a mix of appreciation and playful mischief. “Well, since you offered… how about a little distraction? Something to take my mind off the exhaustion for a bit?”.

You chuckled softly, relieved to see him lighten up. “What kind of distraction do you have in mind?”.

He leaned closer to the camera, his gaze intense yet playful. “Well, you and your perfect little tits are quite the distraction”, he said teasingly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you couldn’t help but smile at his compliment. “Oh really?”, you replied, your voice playful and flirtatious. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that”.

Jensen’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Definitely can’t argue with that”, he said, his tone light but filled with genuine appreciation.

Feeling a surge of boldness, you adjusted your position slightly and started slowly unbuttoning your shirt. As the fabric fell away, leaving you in just your bra, you saw Jensen’s eyes darken with desire. Your hand slipped inside the cup of your bra, teasing your own skin as you watched his reaction.

Jensen groaned, taking a deep breath. “You’re going to be the death of me”, he muttered, his voice rough with longing.

You smiled, feeling a thrill at his words and the power you had over him. “I aim to please”, you replied softly, your fingers continuing to tease your skin. “How am I doing so far?”.

"You’re doing more than perfect”, Jensen replied, his voice husky with desire. As he watched you, his free hand moved to the belt of his suit, starting to undo it slowly. His eyes never left you, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me more”, he urged, his voice low and commanding.

Your breath hitched at his request, feeling a surge of excitement. Slowly, you slipped your bra strap down your shoulder, revealing more of your skin. Your fingers traced over the curve of your breast, teasingly tugging at the fabric.

Jensen’s eyes darkened further, his hand now fully focused on loosening his belt. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

“Like this?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of shyness and boldness.

“Yes, just like that”, Jensen groaned, finally freeing himself from the confines of his suit. His hand moved to his already stiffened erection, stroking himself slowly as he watched you.

You unclipped your bra, letting it fall away completely, exposing your bare chest to Jensen’s hungry gaze. The cool air made your nipples harden, and you brought your hands up to squeeze them gently, rolling the sensitive buds between your fingers. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft moan, your eyes never leaving Jensen’s.

Jensen’s breath hitched, his hand moving more purposefully along his length. “You’re so beautiful”, he murmured, his voice filled with raw need. “Keep going. Touch yourself for me”.

Obeying his command, you brought your hands back up to your breasts, gently squeezing your nipples and rolling them between your fingers. The sensation sent ripples of pleasure through your body, and you let out a soft moan, watching the way Jensen’s gaze intensified as he watched you.

“Just like that”, he encouraged, his breath coming quicker. "Turn the camera”, Jensen groaned, his voice rough with need. “I want to see all of you”.

You bit your lip, feeling a thrill at his request. “Only if you do the same”, you replied teasingly, your voice low and seductive.

Jensen’s eyes darkened further with desire. “Deal”, he agreed, his voice filled with anticipation.

You adjusted your phone, angling the camera to give him a better view of your body. As you slid your hand lower, your fingers grazing the sensitive skin just above your panties, you watched as Jensen’s expression grew even more intense.

“Now you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement.

Jensen complied, adjusting his camera so that you could see more of his body. His hand continued to move rhythmically along his length, and the sight of him pleasuring himself sent a fresh wave of desire through you.

“I wish I could touch you right now”, he murmured, his voice filled with awe and longing.

Your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, finding your most sensitive spot. You let out a soft moan. “I wish you could too”, you whispered, your breath coming in short, quick gasps. “Tell me what you want to do to me”.

Jensen groaned deeply, his eyes darkening with lust as he watched you touch yourself. “I want to feel your tight pussy wrapped around me”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I want to stretch you out, feel you struggling to take me in”.

Your breath hitched at his words, the memory of that night flooding back. You had struggled to take him, the feeling of being so full and stretched turning you on even more. “Jensen”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Fuck, you were so tight”, Jensen continued, his hand moving faster on his erection. “I could feel every little squeeze, every flutter, trying to take me in”.

You moaned softly, your fingers slipping deeper, mimicking the sensation of him inside you. “I remember how full you made me feel”, you said breathlessly.

Jensen’s eyes were locked onto you, his breathing growing more ragged. “I love the way you look when you’re trying to take all of me”, he murmured, his voice rough with need. “The way your body arches, the way you moan my name. It’s the hottest thing ever”.

Jensen’s breathing grew even more ragged. “Pull down your panties”, he urged, his voice a low growl.

Your body trembled at his command, the anticipation sending waves of desire through you. Slowly, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs, revealing yourself fully to him. The cool air heightened your arousal, and you could see the intensity in Jensen’s eyes as he watched your every move.

“Good girl”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Now, let me see those fingers”.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of shyness and boldness. Your hand moved back between your legs, and you let out a soft moan as your fingers slipped inside you. The sensation was electrifying, and you couldn’t help but arch your back, your body responding to the pleasure.

Jensen groaned, his hand moving faster on his length as he watched you. “That’s it”, he encouraged, his voice a husky whisper. “Show me how good it feels”.

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you continued to pleasure yourself. “It feels so good”, you moaned, your voice trembling. “I wish you were here”.

“I’d fill you up so completely. Make you come so hard”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with a primal hunger as he gripped his dick harder, his hand moving faster along his length. The sight of you pleasuring yourself intensified his desire, every moan you made driving him closer to the edge.

“Show me”, he urged, his voice rough with need. “Show me how wet you are”.

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as you obeyed, your fingers slipping out of your wet folds. You brought your fingers up to the camera, glistening with your arousal.

“You’re so fucking sexy”, he groaned, his strokes becoming more urgent. “I can’t wait to feel how wet you are around me”.

The heat between you was palpable, the distance only heightening the longing and anticipation. Your free hand moved back to your clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as you continued to watch him.

“You wanna come for me?”, he asked, his voice a low growl.

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze and the sound of his voice pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes”, you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I want to come for you, Jensen”.

He groaned, his hand moving faster on his length as he watched you, his own release building. “Then do it”, he urged. “Come for me”.

Your fingers moved more urgently on your clit, the pleasure mounting to an unbearable peak. “Jensen”, you gasped, your body trembling. “I’m so close”.

“Come for me, baby”, he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

The wet sounds of your pussy filled the room as you came, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm. Your cries of ecstasy echoed through the phone, your fingers working frantically to prolong the waves of pleasure that surged through you.

Jensen’s breath hitched, his strokes becoming more urgent as he watched you come undone for him. “You’re so beautiful when you come”, he groaned.

The sight and sound of your orgasm pushed Jensen over the edge. His body tensed, his hand moving frantically along his length as he found his release. “Fuck”, he groaned, his own orgasm hitting with an intensity that left him breathless.

As the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away, Jensen lay there, his chest rising and falling heavily. He watched you, a contented smile forming on his lips. “There’s something about the way you moan my name”, he murmured breathlessly, his voice filled with a mix of awe and satisfaction.

You smiled back at him, still catching your breath. “I guess I’ll have to do it more often then”, you replied teasingly, your voice soft and affectionate.

Jensen chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement and warmth. “I won’t complain about that”, he said, his tone light. “You’ve got me hooked".

You blushed and bit your lip, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you. The intimacy of the moment, even through a screen, was overwhelming. “You know”, you said softly, “I never thought I could feel this connected to someone from a distance”.

Jensen’s smile widened, his eyes filled with affection. “Me neither”, he admitted. “But there’s something about you… It’s different. Special”. You watched as Jensen cleaned himself up, pulling up his zipper and closing his belt.

Just as he finished, the door to his trailer swung open and his colleague Karl Urban stepped inside.

“Ackles”, Karl called out, a grin spreading across his face. “You ready? We need you on set”.

Jensen turned to face Karl, his expression shifting from affection to professionalism in an instant. “Yeah, just give me a sec”, he replied, flashing a quick smile.

Karl’s eyes flicked to his phone and back to Jensen, a knowing smirk on his face. “Say goodbye to your girl. We’ve got some ass-kicking to do”. He didn't know it was you on the phone and not Jensen's wife.

You chuckled softly, “Go be a hero, soldier boy”.

Jensen grinned at your words, feeling a rush of affection. “I’ll catch you later”, he promised, his eyes lingering on the screen for a moment before he ended the call.

As he set his phone aside, Karl raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You’re whipped, mate”, he teased, but there was no malice in his tone.

Jensen laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe I am”, he admitted, feeling a warmth spread through him at the thought. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way”.

Karl clapped him on the back, steering him towards the set. “Come on, lover boy. Time to get to work”.

The transition from the personal moment to the professional was seamless for Jensen, who slipped back into character with practiced ease. As he stepped onto the set, the weight of his responsibilities returned, but the memory of your voice and the connection you shared gave him a renewed sense of energy and focus.

Meanwhile, you lay back in bed, the glow of your interaction with Jensen lingering. The promise of seeing him again soon, and the intimacy of your conversation, filled you with a sense of contentment and anticipation.

Back on set, Jensen delivered his lines with intensity and precision, each action scene executed with the dedication of a seasoned professional. But even as he fought fictional battles and faced onscreen challenges, a part of his mind remained with you, counting down the days until you could be together again.

Hours later, as the day’s filming wrapped up, Jensen finally had a moment to himself. He grabbed his phone and found your message from earlier, rereading your words with a smile. He quickly typed a reply, letting you know he was thinking about you and couldn’t wait for your next call.

“Just finished for the night. Thinking about you. Can’t wait to see you soon. Sleep well”.

Two weeks later, Jensen lay back in his bed, still in his trailer on set, feeling the fatigue of a long day’s work but also the excitement of knowing he’d be flying to Austin tomorrow. He had his phone propped up, and your face filled the screen as you both enjoyed a late-night video chat.

“I’ll be there around noon”, Jensen said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you bite your lip, clearly eager for his visit.

“It feels like we’ve been waiting forever”, you replied, your voice a mix of excitement and anticipation.

“Tell me about it”, Jensen agreed. “These last few weeks have been torture”.

You bit your lip again, feeling the nervous flutter in your chest as you hesitated to ask. "So, are you going to stay at Jared’s or at a hotel?".

Jensen chuckled softly, his eyes warm with affection. "Actually, I was hoping you might invite me to stay at yours", he replied, his voice gentle and teasing.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Oh", you murmured, trying to hide your excitement. "I mean, if you want to…".

Jensen’s grin widened, the playful glint in his eyes intensifying. “If I want to?”, he echoed, teasingly raising an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t want me to stay with you? Maybe I should reconsider that hotel…”.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, no. I definitely want you to stay with me”, you said, your voice filled with both nervousness and excitement. “I just didn’t want to assume anything”.

“Good, because I was planning on monopolizing your time”, Jensen replied, his tone light and mischievous. “I don’t want to give you any excuses to escape”.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t dream of escaping”, you said, your voice dropping to a soft whisper.

“Oh, really? You’re going to be stuck with me, then”, he teased, leaning closer to the camera. “You sure you can handle that?”.

You laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and playful tension. “I think I can manage”, you replied, trying to match his teasing tone. “I might even enjoy it”.

“Might, huh?”, Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to do my best to make sure you do”.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’m looking forward to it”, you said softly.

Jensen’s expression softened, his eyes filled with affection. “Me too. It’s been too long”.

“I can’t wait to see you”, you said, your voice filled with sincerity.

“I can’t wait to hold you”, Jensen replied, his tone matching yours.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 13

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Just any genshin or aot girls of your choice watching 50 shades of gray with their s/o

I had this idea and was giggling at the thought of Lisa being like “gives me idea cutie…”😭

(Genshin impact) Lisa, Eula, Jean, Lumine, Yae, Ei, Yelan, Rosaria, and Ayaka, and Shenhe watching Fifty Shades of Grey with their S/O

I feel like I would be in danger considering the characters that are on this post.

NSF-W Implications below the cut!

(Lisa) "Oh my. This is an...interesting movie choice for us tonight, S/O."

S/O had shown Lisa many of these "movies". They ranged from comedic, serious, action-packed, name a genre, S/O would have it!

Though, she didn't predict "smut" to be on their movie library.

Part of her wonders if S/O was trying to tell her something by having this movie on tonight.

(Lisa) "You know, if you wanted to try something exciting in the bedroom, you could have just told me, dear.~"

Lisa teases as her fingers brush across their shoulder, giggling.

Lisa was highly amused by the movie, but can't help but wonder how anyone could've acted those scenes out with a straight face.

Well regardless, it definitely gave her some new ideas.

(Eula) "...What on earth did you put on, S/O?!"

Eula is blushing madly as the movie goes on, eventually just shaking her head and pausing the movie straight up.

She did not mind the selection S/O usually put on during movie nights, but this was too far!

Her heart couldn't take it Eula had far more class than whatever the hell this was!

(Eula) "I refuse to watch something so indecent! S/O, put on a different film at once, lest you incur my wrath!"

This time, she actually means it.

The fact they specifically chose this movie changes Eula's view on S/O on...certain topics.

She tries her best to keep the movie's scenes out of her mind lest she succumb to becoming a flustered mess.

Jean's face is blushing madly, her jaw slightly agape, and eyes wide open.

She could not peel her eyes off the screen, being completely speechless.

Jean does not look S/O in the eyes the entire duration, just remaining dead silent.

(Jean) "..."

It's only after the movie is done that she clears her throat.

(Jean) ahem "T-That...was an odd choice for a movie, tonight S/O."

She does not say a single thing about the movie other than that.

Jean's face is completely red, hoping that S/O wasn't going to say anything about it.

Barbatos help her, the movie is on her mind for at least then next week, even while at work.

Her flustered state gets worse when she envisions-

NOPE. DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.

(Jean) frustrated sigh

(Lumine) "...I think I would've liked an action movie better."

Lumine can't help but be a little flustered while watching the movie.

Especially with S/O sitting next to her as it goes on.

But it was made worse as Paimon was just sitting there, eating the popcorn.

(Paimon) "Uh...Paimon doesn't understand what's happening here. Why is she tied up?"

(Lumine) "Paimon, go get us some more popcorn. Now."

Paimon happily agrees to get more food as she shovels the remaining bucket into her mouth, leaving them alone.

Lumine crosses her arms and frowns at S/O.

(Lumine) "If you're trying to tell me something with this, I don't find it funny."

She would be taken more serious had her blush not completely overtaken her face.

(Yae) "Oh, they turned that book you lent me into a theatre production? How risque."

Yae is highly amused by watching the scenes she read acted out.

She also notices how many differences there were between the film and novels.

(Yae) "Hm. They do not pounce on each other nearly as much as they did in the text. I do not know if I am disappointed or relieved..."

Nitpicking aside, she enjoys the experience of watching the movie and comparing the book.

(Yae) "I wonder how this would do if I were to publish this in house. Would many people read it, or would it be forgotten?"

She shrugs and looks back at S/O, a dangerous glint in her eye.

(Yae) "Nevermind that. Is there a particular reason you wanted to show me this, little one? I doubt it was solely because you wanted to see my reaction."

She laughs upon seeing S/O's face, her hand covering her mouth.

Confusion, thy name is Ei.

There were so many questions she had throughout the movie, especially when it came to the spicier scenes.

(Ei) "Ana is getting tied up, is she about to be interroga-...Oh. They are naked. What exactly is happening to her?"

She just blinks in curiosity throughout the entire movie, her attitude barely shifting.

Ei feels like she has even more questions about what humans do in their off time than ever before.

(Ei) "Is this based off a true story? I do not feel like this is entirely healthy for humans to have. Unless we are the outlier?"

She doesn't really know what to think of the movie, honestly.

(Yelan) "Well, this is as subtle as Ningguang throwing the Jade Palace at whatever's inconveniencing her that day."

Honestly? Yelan finds the movie pretty entertaining.

Beats just doing nothing with her night.

But she can't help but wonder the implications of S/O choosing this movie of all things to watch.

Especially considering her Vision's powers.

Yelan had never really thought about using her strings that way before.

(Yelan) "I hope you're not planning on asking me to try everything we saw, S/O. I have more class than that. And I certainly hope you have higher standards than her."

Rosaria has a slight smirk the entire movie duration, not really commenting on anything aloud.

Not until the movie is finished that she speaks up.

(Rosaria) "I feel like I need a bath after watching that."

She leans back into the sofa, looking at S/O with an eyebrow raised.

(Rosaria) "Not that I hated watching it, but why exactly did you wanna show me this movie? I know you got your kinks, but I didn't think you were that freaky."

Rosaria chuckles as she simply moves to find another movie.

(Rosaria) "Not judging. Just surprised is all."

Ayaka didn't really know what to expect hearing the name.

But as the film progressed, her face scrunched up and cheeks heated faster than anything in her life had done.

The moment the first spicy scene hits, she's already sweating profusely as she turns to S/O, trying to ignore the sounds.

(Ayaka) "S-S/O! Could we change the movie?...Please?!"

She would literally watch anything other than this. Even the horror movies!

Ayaka was already embarrassed in the bedroom, there was no need to have it presented to her in such...such a degenerate form!

(Ayaka) "I would thank you if we were to not watch those kinds of movies S/O. Not that I am ungrateful for us spending time together but...But why that?!"

Shenhe's face barely moves the entire movie.

Her monotone voice simply speaks up during certain scenes like:

(Shenhe) "We do not do that when you are on top of me."

Or:

(Shenhe) "Is that how you're supposed to do it? What you do to me is very different."

Shenhe doesn't even blink at any of the more spicy scenes.

Shenhe unintentionally guts the eroticism out of the entire movie, watching it as if it was some kind of guide on how romance should be done.

Regardless, it's something Shenhe doesn't approve of, at all.

(Shenhe) "That did not look enjoyable. Thank you for treating me well, S/O. May we watch another movie?"

Shenhe puts on something that she can understand far better, and was far more enjoyable.

She doesn't even really think about Fifty Shades of Grey. For her, it was a movie, and that was about the extent of it.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

—old habits die hard

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

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

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

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

masterlist with next parts!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

Simple as that.

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

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

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

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

You: Bummer. Sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

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

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

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

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

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

Until his eyes landed on you.

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

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

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

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

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

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

That voice.

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

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

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

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

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

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, tin can man!"

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

“Give up yet, old man?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New York City

December 15, 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

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

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

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

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

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

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

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

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

•••

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

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love it,” you tell him.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweet dreams.” 

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

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

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

“Here, try this one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please do.”  

•••

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

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

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

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

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

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

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

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

He's still up, you thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have some rules, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can cum now.”

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

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

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

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

“Don't get cocky.”

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

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

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“More, please, I need more."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

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

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

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

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

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

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Espero que te guste.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-faster, please,”

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

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

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

“Can I wash your hair?” 

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will come with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pedro.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

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

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Jareth x dreamy reader🔮✨️🌌

How he would react if he was fascinated by you.🔮🌌🌠✨️

Part 1.

Part 2 here

A/n: hello dearies, this was my first attempt at doing a fan favourite childhood movie. ❤️✨️ I plan on writing a fanfic, but please let me know if you'd like a part two for the venetian masquerade scene. I'll admit I might rusty with his character because I haven't seen the movie in a while 😅.

Labyrinth requests: open

You were always a dreamer, daydreaming imaginative worlds beyond anyone's understanding, creating creatures in your mind that appealles to the eccentric.

No one really understands you, not deep down. On the outside, you may speak with politeness, telling others of your little endeavours of fantasy yet twas not in their interest nor care.

You never really fit in with the world around you, dreaming as others spoke in the usual topics of gossip, romance, sport, debates, and social societies of the world.

When working, you would dream of yourself in a flowing white garb dancing around in a fae forest pretending to be a different creature.

One night, you watched a film you believed to be rather fun and eccentric, not thinking much of it.

You recalled your mother was fond of the film, as you remembered. You had watched it once before as a child, then as a teenager.

However, as the day went on. as you worked. driving. Sleeping. Your daydreams soon turned to seeing yourself within that world, and not only that—

In the day dreams, you envision—not purposefully—you were often interacting with one of the characters within the film, the goblin king.

Though this phenomenon wasn't unusual as this happened when you were but a teenager. It was quite crazy to think that if you told anyone, they wouldn't believe you. Most saw it as only a movie, others saw it as their fantasy.

You didn't think much of it at first. Though, it was always in your mind, in your dreams despite never researching about the film.

One day, out of the blue, just as you were about to head to bed. You were wandering to the kitchen to turn off the lights. When you saw a book on the counter, out of curiosity you examined it. As to how it got there was a mystery.

Examining it, it hit you with the realisation the title was the same as the movie you had watched. How was this possible? I don't remember having owned any book like this?

Reading it plagued your curiosity. Did I—no—I don't recall buying this—how on earth? Did I—

Your questions were soon put to rest upon seeing the outside light flicker on. It had motion sensors, so whatever moved would activate it. That's odd? Perhaps it was just a cat roaming outside. They often do trespass to hunt for whatever else may be out there.

You placed the book back down onto the countertop. Taking a peek outside the window, seeing if anything was outside. What the hell? Is that a barn owl. Here. On the fence.

In hindsight, you were rather in awe than suspicious. You loved animals, and barn owls were quite rare. Once, as a child, you recalled a similar experience of a barn owl perched on the roof. It was rather extraordinary.

The owl seemed unaffected by your presence as it tilted its head, observing you—curiously.

You didn't want to disturb it. So you thought of taking photos to show your parents whom were out of town for the weekend. Grabbing your phone, you attempted to take pictures when suddenly—it was gone.

Baffled, you opened the door to your backyard, looking around the area. Nothing.

You didn't think too much of it, yet you were slightly disappointed. It was a rare sight to see something extraordinary in the moonlight.

Looking down at the book—and thinking of the movies plot. You wanted to test the theory of these coincidences. Scoffing to yourself, you jokingly said the words "ok, then, coincidence or not—".

You dramatically turn, acting like a character in a stage play. "Goblin king, goblin king, heed me, take my life away from here."

Within whispers and echoes—nothing. Nothing happened.

"Did she say it? Did she say it!".

"No, shut up!."

"Those weren't the words!".

"All she has to say is 'I wish my life away from here' it's not that hard to say."

"Shhhh, she's speaking again".

You picked up the book, reading the words from the beginning. Testing it once more. You thought of all the moments of conversing to many, not making any sense of your imagination. Trying to fit in within the world, and yet, they never understood you, despite being kind.

With genuine emotion, you say plainly, "I wish my life away from here."

Suddenly, with a turn of events, a gust of wind passed through the trees, and it wasn't gentle, but rather heavy. Turning, you didn't think a storm was possible.

Though it was put to rest when the door to the backyard swung open with brute force from the blustery winds, as glitter rained from in from the winds.

The owl that had perched against the fence had flown inside the home. Transforming into a man. You couldn't believe your eyes. You were too flabbergasted to speak.

"My, my, not even a second later, and you've already spent a wish on something so foolish—I'll be honest y/n, I was expecting a rather more exciting display from you." He was rather peculiar. His attire was not of modern fashion. Donning a white blouse with grey leggings with black boots. What caught you off guard was his outward apperance.

"That's because I thought it was fictional." You muttered.

"Fictional, you say? Hm~ Well, I'm afraid not, for I'm as real as you." He cocked a smile with a rather British sly tone.

"No, I'm dreaming, this isn't real—" you muttered, stopping. "This is a dream, you're not real, I'm simply in bed dreaming right now."

He found it funny. He was taking pleasure in your flummoxed reaction. Despite how wished to deny it true, he was real—and he was here to fulfill your wish.

"Y/n, do pay attention, I've heeded your wish, and I am here to grant it." Suddenly, within the grasp of his hand, a crystal clear ball fluently appeared. He started turning it, spinning it. Displaying tricks that seemed impossible for any human to do.

"Not all young girls get this privilege. What I'm offering you is far more than what anyone can simply have." Within the crystal ball, a vision began to play. A dream. One that happened during one of your day dreams. "I can take you there, you know, all you have to do is ask."

"Dreams can be made." You said simply. "There was merely a misunderstanding."

"And yet your dreams can be granted. Look at what I'm offering you y/n, a life far more than your own, a place where you're understood, a land in which none can harm you. A world completely of your own." He spoke as if he knew you completely, as if he'd been observing you each day, watching your dreams.

"I—I couldn't, what of my family, my friends, my loved ones." You say in a soft whisper.

"What of them—the deed is done y/n, and I'm afraid there's not much you can do now." He whimsicaly spoke with a cunning tone.

"There must be—surely—if there's a way to counter any deal, curse, or legend. Then, there must be a way for a wish."

"Hm, quite the insightful young thing, aren't you. Very well, I shall give you a chance to take back your wish if—you complete my labyrinth."

"Labyrinth?" You questioned whether or not such a place exists. After all, it's not like you could simply teleport to where he was speaking of.

Suddenly, turning behind you, you were met with a great, vast plane and seeing a stoned architecture resembling a maze with a castle in the middle. "You have 18 hours to complete my labyrinth or."

"You shall be trapped here forever." With that, his voice disappeared within the wind. As you turned to ask "wait but, how do I—hm?, ok, guess I'm on my own."

With that you were on your way.

What you hadn't known was that he had watched you from the start. Taking fascination in only you when the rest were only but white noise.

He could've sworn he dreamt of you once or twice yet, to his astoundment, you were as real as the throne he sits on.

To you, you had no idea how excited you made him. He only wanted you as interested in him as he was in you.

Even if you couldn't recognise it, he wanted to trap you forever within a dream where he could finally have a companion that could understand him. Build worlds and new domains for his labyrinth. To finally have a queen/king/royal by his side to hold forever.

He wouldn't have approached if you were not of interest. Many have attempted to catch his interest and yet failed. After Sarah, no one could capture his care nor attention. He was left within a void. Until you came along.

For now, you were his dream, a wish he could grant, and he plans on keeping it.