#i wish there was an easier way to credit gifs because now i can't even find where these came from yikes

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX

—we belong to you and me

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 26, 2023

Los Angeles, California

The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.

You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.

Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.

On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.

Okay, not complete silence.

There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”

Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.

Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”

Why didn’t he tell me?

That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.

You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.

Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.

The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.

February 4, 2023

New York, NY

The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.

“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?

The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.

His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.

And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.

When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.

“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.

Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.

You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.

Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.

You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.

After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.

“How…what are you…?”

“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.

“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.

“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"

“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”

As if you needed a reason other than him.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”

And then he turned and disappeared backstage.

•••

Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.

Without thinking, you followed him.

He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.

“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”

He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.

Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.

His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.

He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”

“Hi."

“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”

The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.

How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.

“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”

Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.

In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”

The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.

“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”

He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”

You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”

You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”

"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."

There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.

Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”

His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.

“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”

His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“We wasted so much time.”

You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.

You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.

You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.

“I know."

a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.

an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!

[manybcdthings]

Every parent possessed the same feeling. Ethan wished he could be in his daughter's places instead, he wished he was the one who had to carry this instead of them. He could see the way it had drained them, both bright sparks that were dimmed now. And it was the sort of thing that would stay with somebody for their entire lives, whether they were close to the other wolf or not. He hated saying that life was unfair, because a Jones never really simply sat back and accepted things. But there was nothing that could change the fact both Ava and Taylor shared a heartbreaking fate. An unfair one.

"I think by the sounds of it, she didn't have a chance, Nor." he said regrettably. "I know it don't feel like it now but one day you and Tammie will realize that it was a good thing you were both there for her. Otherwise, she woulda gone through all of that alone. Eden probably wouldn't have made it either. You saved a life when...there were two on the line." he sighed because he knew that didn't make it much easier. He faced the same thing about Ava, an elation that their girls were brought into the world but an irreplaceable sorrow at the loss that came with it. "I think she woulda been at peace with the fact her girl made it, and was in safe hands."

It was natural for Nora to blame herself too but Ethan shook his head softly. "It's somethin' you gotta learn. And remind yourself every day how it wasn't your fault. It ain't easy but it gets easier. Maybe when Eden is walking and talking, you'll see it. It'll just click that new life is way more precious than we give it credit for. Even if we think we do, it's different when it...well, when it belongs to us, I guess." because he remembered watching the girls grow and year by year the pain for Ava became less and less. As if he was watching the very reason bloom in front of him. Their life mattered more than her own did to her.

Knowing that Nora was visiting the day over and over wasn't surprising but it twisted at Ethan's heart. He wanted to pluck the nightmares right out of her mind, make them his own if needed. "You know what I say about what ifs, Nora. They'll make us go mad if we let 'em. It's normal to think about it but, some things are so out of our control. This is why people turn to religion, for answers that can't really be given anywhere else. You both did what could be done, and I promise you, that was enough. More than enough."

Nora wonders if she should say never mind. Because she can see the way a shadow crosses her dad's face as he considers her question. She knows it's not an easy one, but it weighs her down, feeling like bricks tied to her feet and each day it becomes a little bit harder to take a step. To move forward. "It...it just don't seem very fair." Nora whispers, feeling the sting of unexpected emotion prick at the back of her eyes. She presses her lips together for a beat, mulling over her father's words.

She's always known her mother was brave, but she wishes she could've seen it for herself. Ava Jones always seemed like someone who would stare down a storm if it meant protecting the people she loved. And Nora tries to do the same. But right now, it feels like the storm is too big. It feels like she's still in that home in Adam's Lake, the boom of thunder shaking her to her bones. "She was so brave and strong. And she shoulda gotten to be here." Nora's breath catches and she swallows hard. "For all of it." She blinks rapidly. "Even the bad stuff."

Nora feels almost childlike saying it, but it's the most earnest desire of her heart making itself known. Because she knows that her dad would feel the same. If anyone understands what it's like to desperately wish someone there, it's him. "And it feels like," she presses a hand to her chest beneath her blanket, trying to rub away the thick bubble of emotion. "It feels like it's our fault. And I know it ain't. I know we couldn't do anything. We were just babies. And it's not Eden's fault either." She shakes her head, feeling helpless as she lifts her shoulders. "But...it feels like it is," she utters. "And I don't know how to make it not feel like it is." How do I put this pain away, Dad?

Leaning into his side-long embrace, Nora's only comfort is that she knows Tammie and her are in this together. But even then, it's clear that her sister's taken on the burden of the baby because of Taylor's charge. "I keep seeing her." Nora exhales, rubbing at her cheek as she glances at her dad with a somber gaze. "And I keep wishing we'd found her sooner. That we'd been prepared. That we coulda done something else. Anything else." Nora twists her mouth into a grimace, feeling the thick blanket of emotion subside slightly, replaced with the numbness of regret. "And I don't know how to stop wishing that either." How do I accept what's already happened?

[cherrynott]

howlers; h.p.

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

synopse: everytime harry fucks anything up and gets in trouble, there is a bet: which howler will he be receiving?

warnings: everything’s fine au, howlers, james and sirius being an iconic duo, just fluff

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this idea is from a pin i saw (can’t link it here), so credits to its owner! hope you enjoy it :)

.

Harry James Potter's life was no easy task, but in the best way possible.

Voldemort had been defeated on the fateful 31st October of 1981, within the dark sky of halloween night. No one knew exactly what happened; just that he went to the Potter's to kill the youngest of them, and the curse, apparently, backfired. There was also a rumor about a stag and a black dog, but we will not get into detail. All that mattered was that Voldemort was gone. For good.

Most of his followers went to Azkaban, including Peter Pettigrew, for his betrayal and hidden devoted passion to the dark side. There were some rebellions in the following years, but nothing too big, as their leader had fallen. And because there were such good aurors taking care of everything.

So, having James Potter as his father, Sirius Black as his godfather, and Remus Lupin as his, basically, second father and godfather, growing up was eventful, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong; he absolutely loved them with all of his might. He just wished that they made it easier for him sometimes. Like now, for example.

It was a typical wednesday morning. Everyone was in the Great Hall, as breakfast time was still going and there would be no classes for another half an hour.

You were currently almost completely in your boyfriend's lap, eating your cereals and talking happily to Ginny and Hermoine.

Harry, however, was not very happy; in fact, he was dreading every minute of this breakfast.

He had his arms wrapped around your waist, and his head was buried in your shoulder, eyes closed. He was trying his best to ignore his friends' teasing, the glances from people around and, mainly, the big windows.

Why? Because Hedwig would enter the Hall any minute now. Why was he dreading it? Howlers, of course.

He had pranked Snape along with the Weasley twins the previous day. It was pretty good, if you asked Harry. All of the cauldrons had exploded, and confetti was thrown at Snape, as it was his birthday. They just had to do it. One week of detention and McGonagalls lectures were more than worth it. But there was a little detail that Harry always seemed to forget; the howler he would get the day after.

There were just three options:

1, James and Sirius congratulating him and wishing they were there;

2, Lily wanting to beat his arse;

Or 3, everything mixed together and the complete chaos.

So, here he was; trying to hide in you, hoping you would save him. "Harry, love, I swear to Merlin, I loved your prank-"

"Hey!--" Fred and George yelled from somewhere.

"- but what were you expecting? They do this all the time. You better be hoping that my mom won't be in that howler, then it would be embarrassing," you grinned at him. In all honesty, you usually were involved in the mess (growing up with Harry would do that to you) and your mom was a troublemaker along with the Marauders in their years- the only voice of sense being Lily (even though we all know that Lily secretly loved it all). So, this didn't really faze you; it was actually amusing.

You weren't part of this prank because Harry wanted it to be a surprise. And one hell of a surprise it was.

You too got a week worth of detention because you couldn't stop laughing. Ron and Dean got 3 days. The rest of the students got all one night just because.

"Why can't they just be normal people?" Harry's muffled voice asked.

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. "We are talking about our families here, Harry. Nothing less should be expected."

A few moments passed. Everyone was talking with their friends, and the High Table was still full with all of the professor's and staff. The noise in the Great Hall was full of life, and it was strangely comforting.

Suddenly all the chatter died down, and everyone was looking at the windows. Harry immediately seated upright and snapped his head to the windows direction.

The motion almost made you fall, and that made Harry wrap his arms tighter around you, and pull your body flushed against his well-built chest.

A snowy owl majestically flew around the room with two letters in its beak. One of them was bright red.

Harry loudly groaned which got several chuckles from around. He could swear that Hedwig did this every time for attention. Sirius probably bribed her to do it; fly in the most attention-bringer moment. Fucking Padfoot.

The letters fell into your lap, as you were still on Harry. You cackled loudly as you picked the howler up and wiggled it right in front of Harry's face.

Harry pouted and took the letter, sighing. Looking around, he saw every single pair of eyes on them, the silence defining.

Harry closed his eyes tightly in exasperation, taking one last deep breath, and opened the howler.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, WHAT THE HELL--" Lily's voice bellowed.

"I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU, SON!--"

"James Fleamont,"

"MOONY MOONY MOONY, DID YA HEARD ABOUT THE PRANK?!"

"SIRIUS, NO! WHERE DID YOU CAME FROM, OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"PADS, THE PRANK ON SNIVELLUS, BRILLIANT! He learned it from me--"

"Actually, if he learned it from someone it was from me. Remember that time, Remus and Sirius were--" your mother's voice echoed through the letter.

"NO! Out of here!" Remus' voice yelled in the background.

"And he got what? One week worth of detention? AMAZING!" Sirius laughed.

"Minnie's getting soft, honestly--"

"Harry, please behave; I love you- James you get back here right this second or I swear to Godric."

"Lily-flower, darling, hey--!" James yelped after a big metallic bang!.

"Goodbye, Harry, " Remus chuckled.

"Don't forget to write to us! And you too Y/N!" your mother excitedly said.

"PADFOOT NO--!"

And the howler ended.

For ten solid seconds, no one said anything.

And then, the chaos started.

Yells and money was being passed around. At this point, it was regular free entertainment for everyone. Harry wanted to at least pretend that he was embarrassed, but really, he couldn't.

You yelled out a 'yes!' before jumping from Harry’s lap and running to the High Table.

Once you reached it, you slammed your two hands right in front of Dumbledoor and McGonagall. "Well, professor, it seems like you have a small debt to pay, isn't it?" you smirked.

Dumbledoor sighed. "Very well. Ms. Y/L/N," he gave you a small bag full of galleons. "Minerva," he gave McGonagall another one.

"Yes, Albus, Ms. Y/L/N is quite right, I reckon. And I believe you also owe me something, no?" Minerva raised her eyebrows with a small proudful smile.

You high-fived McGonagall, who rolled her eyes, and put your galleons in a hidden pocket of your robe. "Nice doing business with you. Headmaster, Minnie," you started to walk run back to her table.

When you got there, everything was still the same. Yells, laughs, bickering, the usual. You took place in your boyfriend's lap again, this time facing him and grinned as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Hello there, my love!"

Harry bit his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "How much did you get this time?"

You eyed him suspiciously. However, you quickly gave in when Harry raised an eyebrow. "...20 galleons," you answered proudly.

Harry grinned. "Why do they keep betting with you?"

"Maybe they still haven't memorised the sore taste of loss?" you sighed dramatically.

"Merlin, I love you so much," Harry laughed and brought your face closer.

"Of course you do, doesn't everybody?" you teased.

Harry deadpanned.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding, I've been spending way too much time with Padfoot, haven't I?" you tried again. No response from Harry. You then beamed. "I love you."

Harry brushed your lips together, a soft smile adorning his face. And when you were sure he would kiss you, he suddenly smirked. "Doesn't everybody?"

"Harry James Potter!"

Yes, his life really was not easy, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (3)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: cursing, angst(?), Draco being a meanie :(

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: not my best lmao kinda gets cheesy. anyways, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/B/N = your brother’s name

(gif cred)

“Do I really have to get one?” Draco whined in the middle of the phone store, getting his very first cellular device.

“Yeah, man. It's 2008 and you still write letters. Plus, your bird took a shit on my car,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. He found it funny that Draco still used an owl post for communication; the only other person Blaine knew that still uses an owl is his 97 year old grandmother. And even she has a landline in her house. “It's just easier and quicker to use. Why wait a whole day for a letter when you can just text me and I’ll respond in two seconds?”

“I’ve never even used a wall phone, how do you expect me to use a bloody cell-phone, Blaine?” Draco was fidgeting in his seat as he waited for the store employee to finish, what was it called, a credit score? Muggles sure are weird.

She came back shortly with a small, black box that had a weird word on it. What the bloody hell is an iPhone? She explained how it turned on, all the applications it carried, and details about billing and more. Draco was still confused about the whole thing but Blaine said that he would help him understand it better.

“Well look at you, Dray. A modern wizard in America,” Blaine jokes. Draco played with the new device, working out all the kinks of it. He sent his very first text message to Blaine at that moment. Took him precisely 5 minutes to type out a very bland, simple ‘Hello. -Draco L. Malfoy’

It made Blaine laugh so hard that he held his stomach. “My god, we’re gonna have to work on your texting skills, man. First things first, you don't have to sign your name at the end of a text. I know it's you.” Blaine explained to Draco all the fundamentals of texting as they walked through the halls of Santa Marie.

Throughout the day, Draco shared his new number with his department. The more he shared his number, the faster he became at typing.

At the end of his shift, he went to a nearby restaurant where he usually picked up dinner —not one to know his way around the kitchen — and headed home.

It's been a good week for him; his mother had sent him a letter everyday, he finished setting up the guest room for Theo and Blaise, he has this new phone, and best of all, Y/N had not crossed his mind once.

Now he still hasn't accepted what she does in her free time, but also he realized that she’s not exactly harming him nor did she know what he was. He's usually busy with all the work he does, anyway. It was quite a sudden change of heart. But mostly, it was his mother that was able to talk to him and change his views.

My dearest son, had it been during the time before the war, I would have agreed with you. But you have to understand that things are different now. You're different now. Now I am not forcing you, but maybe you should just talk with her just once. If not, just ignore her. After all, she only lives next door.

When he read the letter, he could practically hear all of his friends telling him ‘She's right, you know.’ And deep down, he knew it too. So he went with her advice: ignore Y/N.

—

You’ve had a terrible week; your assistant manager forgot to count the inventory which meant she also forgot to make an order for inventory. A group of teens stole a bunch of little vials of oils you had put on display. And to top it all off, a man stood in front of your shop with signs that had biblical verses written on them, blocking the entrance way and essentially driving away any potential customers. You called security but they never came.

You were used to this happening, it's happened all your life. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I'm not harming anyone, so why does this happen to me? Next week, your mother was flying in from Maine to look around the house to make sure nothing would ‘freak Stephanie out.’ 

Driving back home, you were just waiting to mix some bath salts in your tub, play music, and relax for the next couple of days. By sheer coincidence, as you pulled in you noticed your neighbor that you now knew as Draco pull into his driveway.

This week can't exactly get worse you thought as your legs carried you to his front door. With gentle knocks on the door, you waited patiently. Being rejected once more didn't bother you, but you at least wanted to hear him speak to you and try your chance to become better acquainted.

Draco opened his door, his tie was undone and he looked confusingly at you. “Can I help you?”

Panic overcame your senses and without thinking, you blurted out, “Do you hate me?” You noticed his shocked face as it was probably not something he expected to hear.

“Excuse me, what exactly are you talking about?” he asked in his entrancing British accent. It was too late to take it back, so you just kept going with it. “I’m sorry, but you moved in here four months ago and you seem to have made friends with everyone around here but for some reason, you won’t even say ‘hi’ to me. Did I offend you or something?” You sounded exhausted and sad. Not only at the week you just had, but how Draco wasn’t being so neighborly with you as he was with everyone else on the street. It bothered you so much to no end. And the most frustrating thing was that you didn’t understand why.

“Uh, I apologize that we haven’t been on speaking terms but I don’t think I have to talk to you now, do I?” Draco scoffed. Why is he being such a jerk? “I’m not saying that you have to talk to me, but it’d be nice if you could at least wave or something. But instead, you look at me funny and ignore me. It’s kinda rude.” 

“Merlin, you muggles are so temperamental.” Draco said under his breath. The word sounded funny to you.

“Muggles? Did you just call me a muggle?” The look on Draco’s face didn’t go unnoticed. He stared at you for a few moments, not saying anything. What does that mean? “Is that what you call Americans in the UK? Doesn’t really sound nice.”

Draco started laughing mockingly at you, his grip on his door tightening and knuckles turning white, “Look, I don’t understand what it is exactly you want from me but I will say this; the fact that you are so offended that I won’t acknowledge you is honestly quite fucking childish and if you couldn’t get the hint then I’ll say it plainly for you now. I don’t. Wish. To. Be. Friends. With. You. Got it?” and with that, he slammed the door in your face.

Groaning out, you yelled at him through his door, “Fuck you then! I don’t wanna be friends with some rude prick!” You ran to your door and slammed it pretty hard. The sudden noise frightened your cat and made her run from her tower into your room. What the fuck is his deal? 

You walked to your room, pissed off and tired. Looking up, you saw Draco in his room. You stared each other down before you walked up to your window to close your blinds, flipping him off before it fully closed. Afterwards, you took a regular shower and went to bed. Anger built up inside you, and for probably the first time, you hated another human being. And you had to live next to him for god knows how long.

-

“I mean, did you really have to say that to her?” Ian and Ashley had just listened to Draco explain what had happened the night before. Ian just sat in the chair eating his lunch as Ashley responded to him. “I know things might be different in England, but you should’ve given her a chance. She could be nice. I have a couple No-Maj friends on my block.”

“I’m on Ash with this. Is it really all because she’s Wiccan? Be honest, Dray,” Ian chipped in. At that point, Draco didn’t really know what to say. He thought he could look past it, but he couldn’t. “Maybe, yeah. I come from two families that had very strict traditions and views of muggles. I thought I dropped those views but seeing first hand what they do and-”

“And it makes you feel like a freak? Because you’re a real wizard that can do magic and they sit in some weirdly drawn circle and ‘do’ magic?” Ashley finished Draco’s sentence, making quotation marks with her hands. “I get it, I really do. I was offended too when I had to read about No-Maj’s doing this during school. And then to see movies where witches are viewed as ugly, green-skinned hags with warts on her face and wear rags for clothes. Kinda brings you down as a kid. But I got over it. You should, too.” Ashley held Draco’s hand for a bit before she grabbed her coffee mug and left for her appointments.

Ian sat quietly, watching as Draco was sinking in everything he was advised. “Look man, it’s not really my business to be telling you what you should or shouldn’t like, and who you should or shouldn’t like. And you know what, you’re not exactly in the wrong to get mad about what happened. After all, she just kinda picked a fight with you out of nowhere.” Draco had a face that looked as if he was saying ‘Right? I’m not crazy here’

“But,” of course there’s a ‘but’, “from what I hear around the street, Y/N’s really nice. Super weird for sure, but an overall nice person. I think you should think about it.” Ian nodded at Draco before joining Ashley out of the breakroom. Draco sat there, thinking about what his friends said and also thought back to his mother’s letters. I’m such a child. And I’m the one that called her childish. If he was honest, you were but it didn’t make him better.

He knew what he was going to do after work. It pained him to have to apologize to someone. Apologizing wasn’t something he was exactly used to doing. He’s only done it once to Harry and his friends nearly three years after the Battle. He didn’t even really know what to say to you. But he’ll figure it out. Right?

-

You stood shocked at your doorstep, hands holding onto the sweater as you looked before you. “Mom, you’re here early.”

“I had been given an extra week off of work so I thought I’d just come and see my oldest baby before your brother and Stephanie comes. Also gives me a head start to plan our dinner and get this house situated,” your mother walked past you with her two large luggage cases and dropped them on your living room floor. She looked around the house and eyed all the decorations and pictures on the walls.

To her, everything was nearly normal. You had family pictures posted and some pictures of you and your friends from college. In the living room, you had a tapestry hung up behind your couch that used to belong to your grandmother. “Y/N please, will you take down that blanket? Why don’t you put up a picture of some flowers, or maybe something abstract?”

“Because I don’t want a picture of flowers and that’s not a blanket. It was Grandma’s. I want it hung up there. Ma, you gotta understand that it’s my house now.” Your arms were crossed due to the cold. You had the day off and tried to spend it well as you did your cleansing spell in the morning, but it seems that it wasn’t very effective seeing as your mother came in and immediately started nitpicking everything.

“It was cute in your room when you were a kid. But you’re 26 now. How would your boyfriend feel if he walked in here and thought ‘oh, didn’t know I was dating a 16 year old.’” Her constant criticism was nearly pushing you to the edge. “Ma, I don’t really want to argue with you tonight so I’m just going to bed-” a doorbell rang throughout the house and you were thanking whoever was listening for giving you a reason to walk away from your mother. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were met with another face that you weren’t exactly excited to see. “Can I help you?” you repeated Draco’s words from last night back at him in a spiteful tone.

Through gritted teeth, he looked at you and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for being an arse yesterday. I hope we can look past it and become well-acquainted neighbors.”

“Huh, you’re sorry? You don’t really sound it.”

“I know, I’m not really used to doing this,” Draco quipped. “But nonetheless, I would still like to apologize.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m sorry too.” You were about to close the door until your mother came up and pushed the door completely open, “Honey, who’s at the door- oh! Hello, I’m Y/M/N. And you are?” She looked at Draco with the nicest smile that you had ever seen on her.

“Hello, My name’s Draco. Nice to meet you,” he awkwardly shook your mother’s hand. He didn’t smile, but he also didn’t have the usual scowl on his face when he would look at you. Guess he does have manners. “Y/N, is this a friend of yours?” your mother insinuated with a less than discreet wink. Without missing a beat, you replied, “No. Ma, this is my new neighbor. I just met him. But it’s late, so nice meeting you Draco. See you around.” And you closed the door.

“That was rude, Y/N. You should have invited him in. He’s very cute,” your mother grabbed her bags and headed into the guest room. From a distance, you could hear your mother speak to herself, saying ‘At least this room looks normal’. “It’s kinda late. Besides, we have all the time in the world to talk.” 

You walked to your small closet and grabbed the special bath salts for stress relief and walked to your bathroom. Starting to strip, your mother barged in. “Ma! Privacy, please!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I gave birth to you. Anyways, how long has it been since he moved in? Do you think he knows about your witchy stuff?” She asked as she stood by the door, checking her reflection as you continued to undress for your bath. “I don’t really hold a sign around my neck that says I’m a Wiccan, Mother,” you said with closed eyes. Your mother said, “I hope not. Night, baby,” and closed the door.

This is going to be a long three weeks.

-

The morning came and you woke up before your alarm and did your daily routine. The only difference was that your mother was going through your pantry looking for ingredients to make breakfast. “Morning, honey. Do you want some pancakes? I’ll make your favorites! It’s still blueberry, right?”

“No, that was Y/B/N. Mine are chocolate chip and peanut butter.” You said flatly as you grabbed your watering can. “Oh that’s right. But I already bought the blueberries.”

“That’s fine, they still taste good.” Your mother was satisfied with your response and started right away. You walked out to your front yard and watered your plants along the fence. The betony plants were beautiful, its sight was calming your nerves as you poured water over them. The sound of a door closing caused you to look up, watching Draco as he was standing in his yard with what seemed like a cigarette attached to his lips before he took it out and placed it onto an ashtray that was on his porch.

He walked over to the fence that separated your yards. The smell of the cigarette was in the air and it reminded you of your late father. “I meant it last night,” he mentioned his apology. You didn’t really know what to say so you just nodded and went back to watering your plants.

“But if I recall, you did start that fight,” he chuckled. You glared up at him for a few seconds before returning to your task. “Alright, I guess I’m sorry too.” Draco scoffed and just whispered ‘Whatever’ and walked away. “Wait,” you called for him before he walked back into his house and luckily, he stopped. “I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity. “Can we just start over?”

He stared at you, visibly contemplating your question then finally said, “Sure.” He walked into his house and you stood shocked in your yard. Your mother walked out and announced to you, “Honey! Breakfast is ready! Come on, I think your plants are watered enough.” With the snap of your screen door, you were released from your daze and walked inside. Maybe this week is turning around after all.

-

Draco sat in his room, not exactly sure what exactly happened. Was he really going to try and become friends with a muggle? He could imagine the look on his fathers face. Just because he had lost in the Battle, didn’t mean that he magically accepted muggles and muggle-borns. Narcissa didn’t like them much either but she also didn’t hate them as Lucius did.

This would shock not only his parents, but also his friends, Blaise and Theo. Merlin, the person that would probably have a field day about this would be Hermione Granger. He sat there, imagining Granger either laughing at him or cursing him after all the bullying he put her through. All those years of calling her a mudblood and he becomes friends with a muggle. A No-Maj. A Wiccan No-Maj. But then he thought about what Ian said at work. Y/N is really nice. Weird, but nice. And when he agreed to having a fresh start with you, he figured that it would give you a chance to prove him wrong about what you were like.

Or she could be exactly what I always thought muggles to be. Foolish.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っtaglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters

[koko-bopp]

Like I Need You

jeong yuno x male!reader

word count - 1K

genre - the holy Trinity of angst, sex and fluff

warning(s) - mature-ish, friends with benifits, fwb to lovers, self-doubt, minor friendzoning

synopsis - you've had this kind of relationship with Jaehyun for a while; the whole friends with benifits thing, and even despite the fact, you two maintain a healthy friendship. However, while all this is happening; Jaehyun kind of wants more. {Also very briefly inspired by like I need you by keshi}

A loud moan swept past your lips, your body shook at the response of Jaehyun calling you his good boy as his hands bruised the sides of your hips. His mouth was on your neck, ravishing up the skin like it had been untouched even though you two were in this position not less than four days ago.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," Jaehyun just couldn't get his hands off of you, and honestly, the feeling was mutual; you had a hand in his hair as the other was clawing his back; your nails sinking into the skin of his shoulder; hearing him whince and digging his fingers into his hips even harder was your response.

He didn't remember how tonight's meeting started, his only goal involved making you feel as sexually satisfied as possible; wanting to hear you moan his name, leave hickeys, bruises and scratches on his body and he'd happily do the same for you, look at him with lust-driven expressions with your tongue sticking out just to get him more riled up.

"J-Jae! Oh my god, I'm gonna–" You moaned, and ended up letting out a broken chuckle at the end of it as you felt Jaehyun smirk against your neck. You shut your eyes tight and allowed yourself to release onto yourself and Jaehyun, the orgasm hard enough to make your knees buckle and give you that sense of ecstacy.

Jaehyun let out a string of grunts and groans as he came, his breathing uneven for the duration before he looked at you through tired eyes, grinning at your, too, fucked out expression. He pulled out carefully, and even after you hadn't moved from his lap.

You had you mouth agape and just a bit of saliva falling from your tongue as you wiped your bottom lip with it, the dryness of constantly breathing from your mouth from how exhilarating this whole... experience was. You manage to catch your breath, only a little, but you smiled down at Jaehyun, "Wanna tell me again that I wouldn't be able to ride you?"

Jaehyun shook his head, closing his eyes for that moment before opening them to respond to you, his hands how having a softer grip on you as they moved up to support your back, "Not at all, I take back what I said, you– man, you just did all that so well."

You giggled, using the back of your hand to push away the hair that was stuck on Jaehyun's forehead and move it back with the rest of the lovely strands of hair.

It made Jaehyun nervous, because you were treating him like a lover, not that you can tell, because this thing has been going on for three months now;

The whole; 'bet-you-can't-[insert sexual act]'

İt was all fun and games, there was no competitive or aggressive nature to it, it was more like a gentle nudge to get one to sleep with the other.

Because usually if your friend said with clear indication of his statement being a joke; 'damn, you got a small mouth, bet you couldn't fit anything bigger than a Pocky stick in there' you wouldn't offer him a blowjob to prove him wrong.

Or maybe you would, but in this case, you did.

It just continued. You two would just visit each other with the intention of just watching a Disney movie only for Jaehyun to be on top of you right before the credits roll in.

This whole experience was definitely fun, but it made Jaehyun confused.

Because unknown to you, Jaehyun really likes you.

It wasn't just when you'd moan his name he'd feel a sense of pride; it would be when you'd pick him over the other boys when you needed help with something; he knew you could wrap any man you wish around your finger and yet he was always the one you wanted.

Sometimes the guys would talk about who they found attractive and make a few comments about what they liked about them, then you'd jokingly say that Jaehyun was the only guy you needed. It would make the brunet joyous as hell, but it was a joke, so he'd do his best not to get to him.

'Guys like Jaehyun are my type', you'd once said. Well, what was wrong with him? Guys that are 'like' him? Similar but not exact? What the hell does that even mean?

There were still guys you flirted with, dudes you'd gone out with, men who'd allow to touch you but never in the ways and with the intentions that Jaehyun had, but then these gentlemen would finally take the courage step to shoot their shot; but you always turn them down. Claiming they weren't the one you wanted.

Jaehyun loved touching you, feeling you and kissing you; placing his hands on your skin, leaving marks for the next guy who tries to make a move,

Maybe you think about him the way he does about you.

"What's wrong, baby?" You ask, you hadn't looked at him directly, still gently pushing the hair back that was making its way forward consecutively, but you'd seemed to notice Jaehyun lost in thought as he stared at you.

Jaehyun's heart stared racing, not the kind when you'd make the first move to climb onto his lap; but the nervous, uncovering of a secret kind.

He shook his head, smiling at you, "It's nothing," he said, "You don't have to worry."

"Of course I do," you sympathised, "What kind of friend would I be?"

Jaehyun swallowed hard. Friend? Was that all he was to you?

That, he wasn't sure why, but it really hurt. He dropped his gaze at you, desperately trying to look somewhere else as his mind dwelled on the word.

You noticed the behaviour, moving your hand down to his cheek so he could look at you. You had a pout on your lip, and Jaehyun wanted to lean up at kiss it, but he stopped himself as you spoke; "Are you gonna tell me?"

Jaehyun swallowed the lump in his throat, he was struggling to look at you, but he tried his best anyway. "[Y/N]...?" He started then stopped himself, hesitant.

"Yes, Jaehyun," you continued.

"Are we.. just friends if we're fucking?"

It took you my surprise, you were kind of hoping that he'd bring it up, because you didn't have it in you to as the same question. "Where's this coming from?" You ask. It was a little unexpected, especially right after one of your sessions, but you smiled softly at Jaehyun, then leaned forward to place your forehead on his, your hand on his cheek falling down to his shoulder as you spoke through half-lidded eyes, "Only if you want it to be."

No way.

He pulled apart, mainly out of shock, he was expecting a 'i like it the way it is' or a 'lets keep it like this', because you're you, you wouldn't turn him down harshly, and he would just accept it the way it is because he's not a jerk. But he earned it vaugely what he wanted to hear. "What? [Y/N], are you–?"

You've kind of always had a crush on him, part of you just didn't believe that the feeling was mutual, so you never knew of you should've been allowed to act on it, even if a few of his friends were telling you to do so, you were still unsure, so you hid behind your feelings with comments of uncertainty.

Your cheeks felt hot at his reaction, and partly because you taking small steps to get to the main message was becoming so much easier yet so much difficult. You shrugged softly, "Yeah, I guess I am," you said shyly, "And I think we've been doing this enough to ask you to be my boyfriend." You your playing with the cross earing that was hanging from Jaehyun's earlobe as a distraction, avoiding the grin on his face.

"So, are you going to ask?" Jaehyun teases.

"I donno," You respond, beyond flustered, "Are you going to accept?"

"Of course," Jaehyun rolls his eyes, placing a kiss on the skin of your cheek.

Wow, after being reluctant for months on end.

He got what he was hoping for.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ RAINY DESERT ❜

with Hank ‘Tranq’ Loza.

Request: HERMANA acabo de ver que estás taking requests for tranq, and maybe is too late pero por si acaso how about tranq x younger reader (25 or so) having a soft day or a nice date, like cuddles, watching films together... Thank youuuuuuu💖💖💖💖

BY @aquamento

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

📱to Bish✨:

“Hey, prez. I was thinking about stealing you my man. It's gonna rain and I already finished at the hospital, so I would like to spend the afternoon on my sofa doing nothing, but cuddling as fuck till it hurts”.

📱 from Bish✨:

“Don't you want to level up to El Presidente? Maybe, adopt me?”

📱 to Bish✨:

“I change you my man, for a delicious lunch tomorrow”.

📱 from Bish✨:

“I already kicked his big ass outta my club, querida. But now that you said so…”

Leaving your phone over the passenger's seat, with a triumphant smile drawn on your lips. You have the window down, with an elbow nailed there and the other over the steering wheel, thanking to have taking the automatic car this morning, because your hands are a little sleepy after a long, long day. But your reward is coming, and you can't ask for anything else. Turning to the left on the main avenue of Santo Padre, you slow down the velocity, as if you had all the time in the world, stopping some minutes after for a red light. Palming your lap following the rhythm of the song playing through the radio, while you sing it so concentrated, the strong buzz of an engine pushes you back to reality. Resting both arms on the door and your chin over them, you can't help but smile like a teen in love with a soft sigh escaping out from your lips.

“You kill me every time you do that”. Stopping his motorbike next to your car, he takes off the sunglasses for a second.

“Hm…” You just say, so absorbed that you can't even talk.

“That smile”. Hank points at it, before poking your nose, making you wrinkle it.

Leaning towards your car, you stick your head out of the window to reach his lips with a smooth kiss that pushes you to heaven. You met him almost four years ago, but it wasn't until two years after that you dared to tell each other about your feelings. Since then, you are inseparable. And his brothers consider you one more of the Mayan family, so you can take some advantage with it sometimes. Like this one.

As soon as you are at the porch of your shared house, you step out from your car taking your phone and your bag, and walking to your boyfriend with both arms raised so it's easier for him to lift you up between his. Wrapping his waist with both legs, you can hear him chuckling while you fill up his face with kisses, leading his steps to the main door. Four years, and you are still falling for him a little more every day. Sometimes you wish to not have been such jerks, hiding what you were feeling because of the fear of the age difference, being almost twenty years between both. But age is just a number, and you couldn't ever regret being together.

In the meantime Hank takes a shower, you change your clothes for one of his big shirts, wrinkling the neckline of it between your fingers to have a soft sniff of the scent. You love to wear them, mostly when he's out of your hometown. Coming back to the kitchen, you tuck in the microwave the popcorn packet to set it for three minutes, putting whilst some beers to get cold in the fridge. Making sure that the big window in the living room is open and the fluffy blanket is already over the back rest, you look for some action movie on Netflix. All you want to do is to lie down on the sofa, and spend the rest of the day and the whole night eating junk food and curled up under Tranq's strong arms.

When the microwave dings, you're careful taking off the popcorn to put them inside a big bowl, grabbing two beers and some chocolate bars, to bring them all to the coffee table close to the sofa. Sitting there, you wait for your boyfriend to join you, hearing the first drops of water falling from the clouds.

“Make me some space”. Hank says then, standing you up to lie down and welcoming you after between his arms, stucking his chest to your back.

Throwing the blanket over you two, accommodating it to cover your bodies, he places a leg above yours sinking his nose into your neck. Moving backwards a hand to his nape, you feel him hugging you tightly leaving some kisses on your shoulder.

“I couldn't ask for a better plan”. He mutters.

“I only have good ideas, baby”. You chuckle, caressing his tattooed forearm with your fingertips.

“Like being my girl”. Sighing then, the mexican leans forward to loudly kiss your cheek, while you press play to start the movie.

Actually, you never focus too much on the tv, getting lost in your thoughts because of his strokes in your hair, neck or belly; always being so gentle and dearly, that you don't care about anything else, ending up falling asleep under his grip. You have needed it since some days ago, when you had to attend a multiple accident with four cars and more than a dozen badly injured people. And he never complains about it, without stopping his caresses to make you feel more relaxed.

Next time you open your eyes, Netflix has paused itself. Raising your sleepy eyes to the huge window, you see how much is raining for the first time in months. Obviously, it's not a common thing living in the middle of the Calexico desert. The smell of wet sand floods your lungs, giving you some nice chills down your backbone, it reminds you of those years studying in Los Angeles and the good moments there. Stretching a hand over the table to check the hour in your phone, you start to feel somewhat hungry. It's almost dinner time and you know that you're not going to sleep too much tonight after such a long nap. Turning under Tranq's arms, you find him peacefully sleeping yet. His warm breath colliding against your face, while you set an arm under his neck, stroking his cheek with your free fingers. You can't help but stare at him for some seconds, before leaning to peck his lips with soft kisses, until he starts to return every one with a smile growing on his face.

“You feel better than earlier?”

“Yes��. You simply reply, non stopping kissing him.

“How is that?” He teases you, slowly opening his eyes.

“My man's arms are my safe place”.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really”. You nod, raising up both eyebrows. He puckers up his lips in concordance, listening to you so convinced of your words. “I was thinking about going to Paco's food truck and taking away some dinner, what do you think?”

You are too lost on the way your forefinger roams his bottom lip, that you don't hear him agreeing until he bites it and repeats what he said.

“I think I'm going to have to drive…” He laughs, feeling your cheeks burning a little. “What's up with rainy days, ah?”.

“They just turn me a little fluffier than normal”.

“Yeah, I see that, and I like it”.

Pressing his lips over yours, tightening his arms around you, he tucks his tongue into your mouth, gently caressing yours for some long seconds until you two are out of air. Resting your head on the cushion, you lean just a little to kiss his forehead, before hugging him. It's true. His arms are your safe place, always making you feel better, always making you feel loved. You don't know a better place to be in, because it doesn't exist.

“I love you, Hank. So, so much”. You whisper then, with your eyes fixed on the dark ones.

“I love you too, mi amor”. He says back without hesitating, holding your chin with one of his hands to push you closer. “I can't explain how much, but I'm going to show it to you every day”.

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[everyhowlmarksthedead]

DON'T SHIT WHERE YOU EAT.

Marcus Álvarez x Reader

Anon asked: Hey, could you do a imagine with Alvarez, in which he's at the scrap yard of Santo Padre with the reader (his s/o) but Angel does not know it and so he flirt with her like all day and Bishop and maybe Taza and Hank tries to make him stop before Marcus notice it?

Word Count: 1.8k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to: @bai-feng-jiu

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“Don' move”. A male voice tenses your whole body, being leaned above the trunk of your car while you're holding a box of beers. Looking at him sideways, a long forefinger goes to your shoulder feeling a light itching. “A ladybug!”

“Oh, sweet Jesus Christ!” Your heart is about to stop, leaving the box down back to place a hand on your chest spitting a sight. 

“Mayans' waitress?” 

“Seems like, just fo' today”.

“That's sad”. He pretends to looks like, supporting his body against your car, before offering you a huge hand filled by golden rings. “Angel”.

“(Y/N)”. Narrowing it, you smirk at the mexican slightly.

“Should we tell him?” Taza rest his forearms on the white wooden railing, turning his face to El Pacificador.

“Maybe he needs a lesson”. The man pursing his lips, raised both eyebrows. The Vice imitates his gesture. Looks like it's going to be a very fun night.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”. Bishop snorts going downstairs, moving fast his legs to your position and placing a hand on your lower back. “Álvarez is asking for you, querida”.

“Good, amma' take thos—”.

“I got it. Go with him”. The president pushes you softly, with one of these smiles he always has ready for you, since the day you met.

Nodding and clapping on air, you turn your feet above the gravel floor after looking to both men, putting your hands inside the pocket of your shorts walking towards the clubhouse.

“Little trouble is back at home”. Che says leaning close to you, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead before Tranq kisses your cheek. 

“Happy to see you here”. The other man says, before continuing with your steps.

“Respect that girl, or you're gonna deserve to be dead”.

“Calm down, prez, I jus' was trying to help'er”.

“You're not gonna try to help her by putting your cock into her legs, you hear me, ah?”

“Jeez, man!”

“You won't be able to complain when Álvarez tears your tongue out”. The mexican says poking his chest with a forefinger. “She's off-limits”.

Sticking your head out the glass colorful door of the Templo you find your husband sitting inside, on the last chair at the table with a thoughtful look. His dark orbs are above the cigar consuming itself resting in the ashtray, not noticing that you're there, immersed in his own things. You know how much he misses the club, even if he doesn't talk about it as you would like. Running the door by the rail until is full closed, you walk towards him. His gaze traveling to yours, smirking at the mexican while he pulls back the chair giving you some space. Sitting on his lap with your hands supported half on yours, and half against his abdomen, your fingers play with the fabric of his shirt. The first time you kissed him, Marcus was sitting on that same chair, long time ago. And at least, he's not wearing one of those suits he uses working with Galindo, or probably you couldn't control yourself.

“Do you think I took the right decision?” Setting apart a soft and shiny bristle of your hair, his hands go down to your waist.

“It doesn't matter if it was the right or not. You can be a Mayan again, whenever you want it”.

“I can't ride my bike like I used to, cariño”.

“Then, I'll be your driver”. 

He chuckles nodding, before resting his forehead on your chest closing his eyes. Sometimes he has his doubts about joining Galindo's Cartel, without caring about the good jack and the stability his new job gives him now. But you will always be by his side, supporting his back.

“Charters are coming, I have to go back”. You say softly letting your fingers tour his nap.

“Okay, mi amor”.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

The crowded yard is flooded by latin music when the night has fallen down, and the delicious smell of barbecue running through the environment. Your hands moving fast above all the beers on the bar, using the opener to take off the bottle caps, while other girls bring them to the guys. You're not sure about what they're celebrating, being the first time you're at one of the famous Mayans' parties, but you're having so much fun.

“Hey, you, mister ladybug!”

Angel turns towards you, directing his steps to the bar placed in a corner of the yard. A smile getting draw on his lips, walking like he's dancing his hips.

“Is everything okay with your leg?” You ask with a laughter on your throat.

“What a sense of humor!” He cheers lifting up his beer on air. “What ya' need, sweetheart?”

“Ice. You know where it is?”

“Yea', com'on”.

Stepping out of the bar as soon as other girl comes to save your place, the man puts an arm on your shoulders guiding you to the metallic warehouse, next to the club. Supporting you the door after turning on the light, both come inside to the big fridge. Opening it to grab some bags.

“Wait, I got it”. 

Angel leans above the fridge to help you out, invading without asking your personal space. He smirks at you holding the bags you took.

“So, what'bout ya'?”

“Hm…?”

“How I didn' see you before around? To work here ya' must have friends at hell”.

“I'm family”. You just say, putting some more bags on his arms.

“Álvarez and Bishop's?”

“Yea'”. You nod closing the fridge.

“Well, I would be glad to see ya' often”.

“No, you wouldn't”. Obispo is behind you cross-armed, talking firmly without hesitation. “Take the ice to the bar”.

The Mayan doesn't say anything else, passing by El Presidente's side and leaving you alone. Closing the door you raise both eyebrows. Bishop snorts clicking his tongue. He trusts you, of course, but he don't trust the other mexican.

“I can protect my ass without help”.

“I know, little trouble. But I don' need an internally fight for that pretty and beautiful ass”. He laugh surrounding your hips with an arm, accompanying you to your place.

“When you started to be that bored, ah?”

“I keep the good times here”. He answers pointing out one of his temples.

“Shit, you sound like my grandpa'!”

Walking close of your husband, he takes your hand living a smooth and gentle kiss on the back of it. Letting you go from his cousin, you lean towards him placing your lips on his forehead dearly, before following your way back to the bar continuing with your task. Angel is there making your job easier when placing the ice inside the freezer.

“Daddy protects ya' good”. He whispers looking at you for a second.

“Daddy?” You can't help but breaking in laughs, covering your mouth with a hand. “You think 'amma helpless baby girl?”

“I'm sure you can kick me, befo' I can figure it ou'”. 

“Yea', I'm sure you would like't”.

“Maybe”.

“Well, that's not gonna happen, but you can keep dreaming”. You joke on him, grabbing a bottle of water to drink from it.

“Primo”.

Bishop turns to the call, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand after sipping of his beer. Marcus raises his chin making a gesture to the bar. Taza and Tranq looks at it too. El Presidente rolls his eyes, listening your laughs and watching Angel trying to flirt with you, ignoring the warnings he made to him.

“I told Angel to keep his hands off”. He just say, pretending to get up. But Álvarez stops him by a hand on his chest.

“I know you told him twice. Third is on my own”. He replies pretty calm, scaring Obispo more than if he was angry.

“And sometimes dreams come true”. The Mayan says, resting his body against the freezer.

Shaking your head with a loud laughter, you turn to the fridges checking the beers, before raising your gaze to your husband coming closer. Gawking nailing your elbows on the wooden bar and supporting your chin on your palms, you show him a lovely smile. No matter how many years have passed, you fall more and more everyday for him. Biting your lower lip with your incisors, you lean forward just a little.

“May I help you, señor Álvarez?”

Angel has an eyebrow upped, looking at the scene from the background and maybe understanding Bishop's words.

“I need two beers and my wife”. He says crossing his hands over his abdomen, as soon as he stops his feet.

“Yes, sir”. You just say winking the right eye.

“Having fun, mijo?”

“Yea', Padrino. She is… She…”

“She's more polite than me”. Marcus interrupts him with a calm tone of voice, twisting his head slightly. “Don't shit where you eat, Angel. You're smarter than that”.

“Sounds like he has an option”. You say frowning, passing them away with the beers between your fingers, taking off the opener handling on your neck with the free one, and giving it to other waitress.

And Marcus knows now you feel annoyed because of his words. That's one of the reasons you have never wanted to attend a Mayans' party. They're always marking their own territory over other members, and you're not a piece of meat, nor a trophy, not a bundle of money. Your husband follows your steps to inside the clubhouse in complete silence, not noticing the members who step out of it to give you some intimacy. 

“You know what I meant”.

“Look, I don't need… two pitbulls growling before me. You should know me after nine years”.

“I do”.

“Really? So then, why was tha' fo'?”

“I'm sorry”.

“Yea', you better compensate me later, señor Álvarez”. Walking closer, you offer him one of the beer, but grabbing your wrist to push you into him.

“You know how much I love you, right?”

“Nah, tell me”. You joke on him, placing both hands crossed above his nap, leaving some ephemeral caresses on his head.

“I can't explain”.

Pressing his lips with yours closing the distance between your bodies, until your chest collides with his, Marcus wraps you between his arms. It's true you didn't fall in love at first sight, but you wouldn't change him for anyone. You still feeling the same tickles and the same sparkles in your stomach whenever he's near of you. And you spend every morning, at least five minutes, watching him sleep peacefully above your chest. That is your favorite moment of the day, feeling somewhat blessed since you can do it every single day.

“Com'ere, papi”. You mutter against his lips, guiding him blinded through the only hallway on your steps to the dorms. “Let's remember old times…”