#moroccan roll

[jt1674]

[theatrepup]

"Brahim Jones left us, but we will never forget what he did for us."

The Musicians of Joujouka pay tribute to Brian Jones, from the book Tangier From the Romans to The Rolling Stones by Richard Hamilton.

[scorpiosbite]

when drew watched actress!reader’s sex scene for the first time

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── drew’s been binging game of thrones ever since that fateful day madelyn forced him to watch the show, what was meant to be a normal binge session turns into him being the horniest he’s ever been. making the anticipation of meeting you even heavier.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place during the filming of obx 4, before madelyn informed the obx cast that they were going to meet you when you came to LA.

drew could not tear his eyes away from the screen of the tv in his moroccan hotel room. he thought that after watching game of thrones consistently, now nearing the end of the first season he would become accustomed to see you in costume, but every time you came onto the screen his breath was taken away. seeing you in that the sliver waist length wig that looked like it was your real hair, the sheer fabric floor length dresses with the daring cuts that exposed more and more of your soft skin, and the intricate dornish jewellery with the subtle targaryen detailing made him feel like a teenager once again with how quickly his pants tightened. and it wasn’t only how you looked, it was also your performance. you were an astonishing actress, he would forget that you weren’t actually visenya in real life, that this world didn’t actually exist and that you were just acting. he was so captivated by you.

“the last dragon, that’s who you are visenya, the last targaryen left in the world, perhaps if you favoured your mother in looks, you would escape the pressures of the targaryen name, but you do not, you look just like rhaegar only with the tanned skin of elia.” you rolled your eyes and drew felt his heart jump. surrounded by the hanging gardens of sunspear in dorne, you paced with aggression, your sliver hair swishing behind you, your dress billowing as you stared down your costar. “have you come to lecture me of my responsibilities as the last targaryen, jaime? all while your bastard son sits my throne? and your sister puppets him from behind.”

“we are only married because your father knew that once i take back my throne i will come after the lannisters for your family’s hand in my mother and brother’s murders. he thought that if we were married that i would not harm you and your name would live on through my womb. but i am no fool, targaryen women have been known to kill their husbands, who is to say my coin wasn’t flipped on the side of madness. that is the saying is it not? when a targaryen is born the gods flip a coin, greatness or madness.” you now stood face to face with the man, staring him down with a smug expression and drew was once again struck with your talent as an actress, your body displayed the anger and frustration that your character felt despite the facade of arrogance on your face. then suddenly your lips connected with his, the actor who played jaime slid his hand around your waist, the cuts of your dress allowing him to touch your bare skin, your hands went to his hair and drew had never felt so jealous of another man.

jaime picked you up with ease, walking backwards to a chair sitting down with you spread on his lap, and drew thought that he would do anything to have you like that. the camera filmed you from the back, jaime’s hand caressing your exposed back down to your ass, and drew squeezed the covers of his bed in response. the camera cut to a mid shot of both of you from the side, you broke the kiss your face still so close to his, lips brushing together as you spoke in a hushed tone. “i want you to fuck me, jaime.” drew groaned at the lust in your voice, and wondered if that was what you sounded like in real life. jaime’s actor groaned in response to your statement and drew felt sympathy for the man, because he knew that if he was in that position instead of him he would be unable to stop himself from cumming in his pants, professionalism be fucked.

jaime’s hands trailed to the back of your neck and the camera cut to back to the shot of your back, closing up on his hands as his hands pulled at the strings holding your flimsy dress together the camera seemed like it was handheld making the shot feel all the more intimate, the material fell and jaime tugged the dress off of you leaving you completely bare but drew could only see your back and up, but then, the camera cut to a wide shot, and drew gasped as your entire body from the back was exposed. jaime’s hand coming down to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass and drew felt his cock harden at the sight. the camera cut to an over the shoulder shot from jaime and your bare chest came into view, this time drew couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him, your hands tugged at the strings of jaime’s pants although the camera kept on you, your hands out of the shot.

you sank down on jaime’s cock and a whine-like moan escaped you, drew felt like he was going insane, he couldn’t stop himself as he tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing up to slap against his stomach. his hand wrapping around the thick length, squeezing, pearly beads of pre cum leaking out. drew flicked his eyes back up to the screen and you had your head thrown back as you bounced on jaime’s cock, drew knew that the pleasure on your scrunched up face was fake, that the melodious moans that were escaping your pretty lips that were hung open were fake, but the way your tits were bouncing was real and drew couldn’t stop himself from tugging his cock in time with the movements of your hips, your head tilted back down to gaze down at jaime your eyes so fucked out and drew wished that it was him you were looking at. that it was him that could run his hands all over you.

you spoke breathlessly ��targaryens used to feed their enemies to their dragons, i don’t have a dragon yet, perhaps i shall just eat you myself, husband.” jaime groaned in response, connecting your lips back together and drew sped up his movements his hand stroking with fervour, the squelching sounds echoing through the room, his other hand coming down to squeeze at his balls, his eyes still glued to you on the tv. drew was close he could feel it and as your body shuddered and you collapsed into jaime’s lap, drew came with a deep groan. cumming all over his chest and stomach. drew threw his head back against his headboard, he felt just a little bit pathetic, that he didn’t have the courage to message you but he could jack off to you doing your job, but god what he would give to have you like that.

TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chimmysoftpaws

you guys are not believe the fucking writers block i suffered while writing this for it just to turn out so shit but nevertheless I hope you enjoyed!

[littlelamy]

you were right!

a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.

“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.

He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.

Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”

Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”

The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.

“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.

He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.

Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.

The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”

Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.

He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”

There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.

“What happened?”

Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”

You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”

A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”

He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”

A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”

You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif

[poguehearted77]

Hi!! I've watched the scene where Sarah is starving and Rafe is pacing around and knowing he has cash in his pocket and doesn't care that his sister is starving and pregnant. I can't help but imagine it if it was reader, and they hooked up once twice or however you see fit, and she's pregnant with his baby.

Would it be any different? Could you write something about that? Take the idea and run with it because im bad at articulating 🤣

Oh yeah, Rafe is a class-A asshole, but he might show just a little remorse if the baby is his.

Love the requests, keep sending em' in!!

The Moroccan sun was beating down on the group relentlessly, sweating you out and drying you up with the shine of its bright light. The only reason your sweat wasn't dripping off you was because it was quickly soaked up into the modest fabrics around your head.

You'd been travelling tirelessly for the last few days, dangerously too, if you might add. The boat nearly capsized multiple times just trying to make it to Morocco. As if the boat ride wasn't abhorrent enough with your seasickness....and morning sickness...

The constant smell of saltwater and the rocking of the ship had amplified the awful experience and you would spend the first hour in the bathroom regurgitating your insides every morning. It was not fun.

None of the pogues know you're pregnant. Although, Cleo was on to you. One pregnancy was more than enough for the group to worry about. You figured this was something you'd keep to yourself despite the fact the father is currently trekking with you through the hot sands.

The day was only getting hotter. You're thirsty, your lungs hurt and it felt like your own organs were weighing you down. You naturally began to fall behind the group, little by little until the gap was hard to ignore.

"Come on, Y/n. We're not far from the city, just a few more miles." Pope encouraged but it triggered a laboured breath. You're exhausted. A small smile crept on your lips when you noticed John B holding Sarah's hand the whole time, never letting her out of his sight.

For what feels like the eighth time, Rafe looks over his shoulder, more annoyed than ever. "Jeez, would you hurry it up?" You scoff, mustering up enough energy to kick up some sand at his legs. "Nice. Real mature, Y/n." His sarcasm rolls off his tongue and you ignore him as you walk past him.

Once you finally made it into the city, you all needed something to eat. Sarah wasn't feeling so great and neither were you. Babies are nothing but greedy entities consuming all the nutrients you need.

You leaned against the cool rock wall, watching the others run off to help themselves to a five-finger discount. With your eyes closed, you tried to distract yourself from the ache in your abdomen. Not sure if it was the baby or your hunger, possibly a mix of both.

Without even realizing it, you let a hand rest lightly over your stomach. It was still early, you weren't showing and you thank god.

"We're wasting time!" You hear Rafe yell, it doesn't even faze you. He's somewhere near you when he mumbles to himself, "Sitting around on the streets when we should be going after Groff, unbelievable."

What was supposed to be a quick glance your way turns into an elongated stare. His eyes raked over your posture, your shut eyes, brows crunched in distress. He slowly looks down at the placement of your hand.

"Y/n." He says, tugging you into a corner out of sight from the others and you swat him. He shockingly accepts the reprimands and backs off, taking a step back. "What do you want, Rafe?" Your arms cross, waiting for him to say something.

"Is it mine?" Your arms fall slowly, caught, but you deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hardly able to take two steps away before he's barricading you in the corner with his body.

"Don't bullshit me, Y/n. The baby. Is it mine?" You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his chilling gaze. Apparently, that was enough confirmation. "How long have you known?" He takes on a defensive stance.

How the hell were you supposed to know the answer to that? The last week alone has blurred together in memories of rough waters and dry deserts.

All you knew was it happened sometime between the various times you and Rafe swore it would be the last time you fooled around. Unsure if it was the time on his yacht, in the back of his truck or one of the dozen times you somehow ended up in his bed when you swore you were only in figure eight for a 'walk'.

The group had no idea the two of you had been involved with each other aside from the occasionally tense argument, but anyone could admit the two of you can't seem to stay away from one another.

"I dunno, a month maybe?" He pressed both hands to his forehead, fingers spread wide, and slowly dragged them down, smearing the tension all the way to his chin.

"Let's go." His grip on your hand forces you to follow his long strides between the bustling kiosks until you land inside a Delhi. You're too stuck inside your own mind to process what was happening until you watched Rafe lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing a fanny pack with a considerable amount of money.

"Of course. Of course, you had money this whole time! Of course, you let the others go stealing--!" He hushes you as the owner flashes you a look of concern, "Listen, I'm not the one who told those pogues to go looting. I've got money for more important shit than their sad jewel hunt." He explains, paying for the items with a small nod of gratitude towards the man.

Turning to you, he placed a sandwich in one hand, and a cool bottle of water in the other. "This," He starts, his palm gently resting against your stomach. For the first time in a long time, his brows relax and his gaze softens when he looks at you. "This is more important."

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[ahhnini]

okay season 4 rafe where they broke up and shes a kook turned pouge, and its just a bunch of angst and basically all of s4 with her?

our last summer - rafe cameron x reader

synopsis - he wishes he could've had one last summer with you

warnings - angst, kook turned pogue!reader, mentions of cheating, (slight) sofia slander (I love her tho!!), stabbing, character death

you were in no means ready to see him, let alone work with your ex-fiancée again. you knew he’d been stealing glances at you while you all trek your way through the sandy dunes of the coast of morocco, but you were strong enough to keep yourself from looking back and meeting his gaze.

your main priority was sarah, who you could tell was getting queasy from the amount of activity she’d been doing these past couple of days. once you saw the skyline of a city, your ounce of optimism returned.

around a year ago, you’d been happily engaged to who you thought was the love of your life, rafe cameron. after you’d found a tank top that wasn’t yours in your shared bedroom, you’d knew he was seeing someone else, but you didn’t expect that someone to be your own best friend, sofia.

you had followed the pogues to morocco after what groff had done to jj. you were willing to follow them to the ends of the earth, never leave a pogue behind, john b's words echo in your head.

you were sitting with sarah, rubbing her back while the rest of the group went to go get some food for her. rafe was mumbling incoherent sentences, something he always did while pissed off or annoyed, and you tried your best to ignore his complaints. "you okay?" you softly spoke up, sarah meekly nodded her head in response.

you hear the shout of multiple voices, turning around to see the rest of the group running towards you. you stood up, dumbfounded as the moroccan authorities chase your friends. already? one of them apprehends you, and you writhe at their grip. you plead to them, but its no use. you turn around, seeing rafe also getting held up. the rest of the pogues were nowhere to be found. as long as they got each other, they're safe.

after a quick interrogation, the authorities let you both go. you let out a huff, not only because you were falsely accused, but because you're now stuck with your ex-lover, in a foreign country.

"are you serious?" were the first words you'd tell him in a year. he pulled out a wad of cash and his passport from his belt bag. "that's like, hundreds of dollars, rafe! you could've fed your sister!" he turns to look at you, piercing blue eyes burning holes through your soul. "listen, my only job was to get you pogues to morocco. no more, no less. if you don't wanna get lost, you gotta follow me, I'm your best bet," "as if," you roll your eyes, "we're in the same boat—no pun intended—but, you are also in a different country," he pulls you into his chest with one arm, whispering in your ear, "yeah? but guess who has the money? guess who actually has defense skills. not you, huh?" he shoves you out of his arms, making you stumble backward. you scoff, following him through the crowded streets.

"you look nice," a slight smile dawned on his face as one of the store clerks helped you wrap your scarf around your hair. you both had changed into more neutral colored outfits to help blend in. "hold on" you see rafe turn to a stand that's selling phones. you impatiently tap your foot as he dials a couple of numbers in. you follow closely, wanting to find out who needed his attention so badly.

your heart clenched as you heard another female voice, quickly realizing that it was sofia. of course, why wouldn't he call his girlfriend? now, you distanced yourself from him, looking at the floor as you drag your feet along the dirt, getting your shoes dusty.

this day felt like years. after an extensive search for groff, you'd finally found him. you rode on the back of the motorcycle rafe stole, holding onto his waist. you couldn't help but have your mind flashback to your last motorcycle ride with him, still on kildare, on the way to courthouse to get marriage documents. his cologne hadn’t changed either. you remembered how his cologne lingered on every article of your clothing. you knew he’d been about it too from the way his body tensed up.

you shake your head, he probably does that with sofia now. you sniffle, hoping the sound of the engine would muffle it. rafe pulls off to the side of the road, stopping at a well. you use this time to regain your distance from him, stretching from the long ride. "is that it?" you point to the city down the cliff, squinting your eyes. groff looks at the map, nodding his head. you see the two men bent over the well, and you shuffle to see what they were looking at. "...good thing hollis and I paid off that girl...what was her name? sonya? oh, sofia!" you see rafe's face twist. you kneel down in front of the well, next to groff, "what are you talking about?" "its really none of your business," he retorted.

what happens next is a blur, groff pulls out a knife, attempting to stab rafe. rafe's reflexes work in record-time, but it was a horrible decision to try to help him at this moment. as groff attempts to defend himself, you feel the blade go into your stomach. you let out a sharp gasp, after seeing groff get shoved down the well, you collapse, rafe gracing your fall. "hey, hey, y/n, stay with me, please," his voice cracks as be sits you down on the side. he holds your wound, and you let out a painful groan. his eyes widen. he still calls out for help, desperation lacing his voice. "no one can hear you," you cough.

gentle hands hold your face, "rafe, you can't save me, I'm sorry," you feel a warmness fill your body. "no, no, I can, we can get you to a hospital! stay with me-" you cough again, louder this time, "no, its impossible," he curses under his breath, before shouting to the sky. he embraces you, your voice getting weaker by the second, "hey rafe? can you tell me about our best memories? like...during our relationship?" your voice was barely a whisper now.

he nods, voice barely steady as he begins to talk, "we had a lot of good memories, but my favorite was our last summer, where we were gonna get married in the fall. I shouldn't have cheated, I'm so sorry," he sobs onto your shoulder, "remember when all we did was go surfing? and I taught you how to ride those big swells 'cus you were too scared...and...how we were gonna move out of kildare after we got married? we were gonna move to colorado, live that white picket fence type of life," he bitterly chuckles, "I screwed up, I screwed us, and I'm so, so, sorry. If I could rewind time, just to feel your lips on mine again, just to hear you laugh, just to have you look at me with so much love, I would. I'd make sure you were never under this situation." your mind replayed all of those memories, and with shaky hands, you pull him in for one last kiss, pulling back to say your last words, “I never stopped loving you, rafe,” before letting your body finally succumb to your injury.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[thebearer]

i looooove the way you wrote carmys casual dominance over the reader in the feeling. could you write something else that has that same vibe? like him being protective/ dominant over her while they’re around the rest of the crew?

ahhh thank you so much!!! the casual dominance was a must for me with carmy it just makes me weak in the knees lol.

"Why don't you let me help you?" You hummed, leaning over Carmen's shoulder, watching as he expertly cut the onions. "I can handle spaghetti sauce."

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking up at you under heavy brows, still chopping furiously- much faster than anything you could. "I got it." He nodded.

Your face fell slightly, stepping back to stand beside him. Carmen invited you to family every night before the restaurant opened, it was sometimes the only time you'd see him until that night when he'd collapse into bed next to you. It was the busy season, summer and tourist time, meaning everyone wanted to come to the infamous restaurant.

Carmen's chest flooded with a pang of guilt at your small frown. Fuck, maybe he'd been too mean. "'m sorry, baby. Here, I have prep to do. Can you put this in the pan for me? Start it."

The tiny smile that curled on your lips made Carmen's heart skip in his chest. "Yes, Chef." You hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, snagging the diced onions and sliding them into the pan.

You'd seen Carmen make it enough to know how to make this recipe. Canned tomato sauce, oregano, onions- you measured them, adding it all easily.

"Woah-ho-ho, look who we got here." Richie cackled, turning the corner, ignoring Sydney's screams to announce it. "We got a new chef on the roster?"

You rolled your eyes, snagging the can opener and pressing the handles together. "Yeah, I'm your replacement, Richie."

Richie's face fell slightly. He knew you were joking but a part of him worried. "Cousin, what's this, huh?"

"She's just helping, alright? Get outta the way." Carmen nodded, slicing the beef easily. His eyes watched you, flicking from his task back to you.

"Hey," Carmen called, a firm snap of the tongue that had you turning to him. "Put the hair back, baby. No one wants a hair in their food."

"Yeah, c'mon." Richie added, snickering as you snagged the hair tie off your wrist. "Gonna replace me and she don't even know how to cook right-"

"Hey, easy, cousin." Carmen's eyes were hard, glaring at Richie, the whirr of his knife sliding across the cutting board adding a dangerous edge.

Richie held his hands up in mock defense. "My apologies, your fucking majesties." He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, moving onto the next step on the card, pouring the cans of sauce in easily and stirring, giving the side of the pan a firm tap with the spoon to get the excess off. Reaching for the knob to turn the heat up, Carmen's hands were on your waist before you could.

"Here, baby," Carmen rasped, pulling you back slightly. "Gotta loose shirt on, so you gotta stay back, alright? Tuck it in or something for me. I don't want it catchin' on fire." He muttered, hand sliding over the hem of your shirt, pressing it gently against you.

"Actually, go find an apron, ok? I'l get this started. I don't want you gettin' anything on ya." Carmen nodded towards the back.

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully, passing the spoon to him.

Carmen watched you walk towards his office, stirring the ingredients before turning on the stove. He let the flame on a low flicker, reaching in his pocket for his own cigarettes, fishing one out and lighting it under the pilot light.

"Chef," Carmen called, catching Sydney as she turned the corner. "You got it?"

"I got it." Sydney nodded.

"Great, I'll be in my office." Carmen walked off, finding you in his office, lazily looking through the papers on his desk.

"Anything good?" He asked, leaning against the door, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"What is spicy Moroccan carrot salad?" You tilted your head, reading Carmen's sloppy handwriting scribbled on the notecard.

"A side Sydney thinks would go good with the flounder we're getting in." Carmen hummed, blowing the smoke out the door before shutting it behind him.

He sunk down in his chair, patting his lap for you to sit with him. "Thanks f' helpin' me with family tonight." Carmen muttered, arms around your waist, bumming the cigarette in the tray. "Shouldn't be too long tonight."

You hummed, leaning back into his chest, head lulling back so you could look at him. "Not too long like I should wait up for you or...?"

Carmen snorted lightly. "I'll be home before midnight. Sydney and Marcus are closing tonight." He sighed, pressing a tiny kiss on your shoulder.

"Good," You grinned, turning so you were straddling him, your core rocking over his, covered by the aprons.

[bullet-prooflove]

And your left hand’s gettin’ used to that ring

For Lee Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989 @queenslandlover-93 @newyorkrican922 @bryandechartisasmolbean @lovethis-lovethat @goblinenby @foxfables @solar-raccoon

Companion piece to

Wild Bloom

A Boy from Bozeman

The Worry Doll

Wild Fire

Experiance (NSFW)

Blind Date

Fire Wood

Wedding Bells

The sun is starting to set when Lee guides Dolce into the field of wildflowers. The orange light gives way to the darkness as the small campsite Kayce has set up for your honeymoon comes into view.

There’s a white bell tent erected in the clearing alongside the river with two rows of small Moroccan style lamps highlighting the path to the open doorway.

The inside of the tent is decorated with battery powered fairy lights that illuminate the space in a dulcet glow. He can see Jamie’s touches in the quality of the brand new bedrolls laid out across the rug on the floor, the expensiveness of the white bedding that’s draped across them. There’s a wicker picnic basket resting alongside an unlit campfire and  a bottle of Moet residing in a bucket filled with cold water from the stream along with two champagne glasses.

Lee spends the next few hours licking it from your skin as you cry out his name across the pasture.

When he wakes up the next morning it’s with a sense of contentment he’s never known in all his years at the ranch. The midday sun graces his skin as he stirs, a light breeze cooling him as he rolls onto his back, using his arm to shield his eyes from the light. It’s the first time he’s slept late in decades.

When he reaches for you across the sheets and he’s surprised to find them empty, his eyes flicker open and his heart pounds but then he hears the sound of splashing and that he realises what you’re up to. He pokes his head out of the tent and there you are wearing nothing but his wedding ring and a smile as you bathe in the lake.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” You ask him and Lee can’t get out of that tent fast enough.

The afternoon sun has already warmed the water by the time he submerges himself and it feels like bliss, soothing over his aches from cowboying as he wraps one arm around your waist and draws you to him.

“I thought you were gone.” He whispers, his fingertips brushing the damp hair away from your features as you straddle his lap. “That this was a dream and it was all too good to be true.”

“Never.” You promise him, cradling his face between your palms. “I’m all yours baby, from now until your dying day, you’ll have me as your wife.”

Love Lee? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[raatart]

a complete boycott list in alphabetical order

a complete list of companies / brands / franchises to boycott in support of palestine that i have been working on putting together for a while now.

remember to support your local businesses

stand with palestine against genocide

(Food & Beverages)

A

Activia

Acqua Panna

Akmina

Absolute Vodka

Algida

A&W

Aquafina

Alpro

Actimel

B

Burger King

Baskin Robbins

Ben & Jerry's

Bugles

Betty Crocker

Badoit

Becel

C

Coca Cola

Costa Coffee

Cadbury

Cheerios

Cheetos

Campbells

Calve

Cappy

Chiquita

D

Dominos

Dasani

Dunkin' Donuts

Doritos

Dr Pepper

Danone

Dolcela

Damla

Dogadan

E

Evian

Eden

F

Fanta

Frito-lay

Fruit by the Foot Roll Ups

Falim

Fresca

G

Gatorade

Greggs

H

Hardees

Haagen Dazs

Heinz Ketchup

Hershey's

Hard Rock Cafe

Heinz

I

Innocent

Israeli Fruits & Vegetables

J

Jacob's

Jaffa

K

KitKat

KFC

Kbueno

Kraft Mac & Cheese

Kellogg's

Kraft

L

Lipton

Lays

M

McDonald's

Mars

Marks & Spencers

Maggi

Marila

Monster

Mountain Dew

Mehadrin

Minute Maid

Milk Bar

M&M's

Magnum Ice Cream

Milka Chocolates

N

Nestle

Nestle Cereals

Nescafe

Nesquik

Nespresso

Nido

Nutella

Nature Valley

Nestle Milo

Nestle Carnation

Nestle Coffee Mate

Nestle Nestum

Nimbooz

Nestea

O

Orea

Original Shredded Wheat

P

Papa John's

Pepsi

Pringles

Pizza Hut

Perrier

Pillsbury

Popeyes

Pretty a Manager

Pure Life

Powerade

Popup Bagels

Q

Quality Street

Quaker

R

Redbull

Ruffles

S

Starbucks

Subway

Smartwater

Sweetgreen

Snickers

Sprite

Sabra

Sunkist

Strauss

Smarties

S.pellegrino

Schweppes

Sana

Sirma

Sara Lee

T

Toblerone

Tang

Twix

Tesco

Tropicana

U

V

Vittle

Volvic

W

Wall's

Walmart

Walkers

Wrigley's

X

Y

Z

7Up

(Clothing)

A

America Eagle

Adidas

Alo

Adina Eden Jewelry

B

C

Converse

Calvin Klein

Cat

Castro

D

Drew

Diesel

E

F

G

Good American

GAP

H

H&M

I

J

K

Kamili

L

Levi's

Lumberjack

M

Mango

N

Nike

O

Oasis

P

Puma

Q

R

River Island

S

Skims

Skinny Dip

St. Mark

Style Nadia

T

Timberland

U

V

Victoria's Secret

Vakko

W

We Wore That

Wyeth

X

Y

Z

Zara

(Beauty)

A

Aveda

Amika

Avon

Aussie

Aveeno

Always

Aesop

Ahava

B

Bobbi Brown

Blistex

Bath & Body Works

Britney Spears Fragrance

Becca

Biotherm

Beauty Blender

C

Clinique

Covergirl

Colgate

Calgon

Camay

CeraVe

Christina Aguilera Perfumes

Clean & Clear

Crest

CND

Cacharel

D

Dr. Jart+

Dove

Dettol

Darphin Paris

Dark & Lovely

E

Essie

Elidor

F

Fenty Beauty

Fair & Lovely

G

Garnier

Gillette

Glam Glow

H

Honest Beauty

Haci Sakir

Herbal Essences

Head & Shoulders

Hugo Boss

I

J

Jo Malone

Johnson & Johnsom

K

Kerastase

Kiehl's

Kylie Cosmetics

Kylie Skin

Kotex

L

L'Oreal

Lacome

La Roche-Posey

Lifebuoy

Lux

Lubiderm

M

Maybelline

MAC

Moroccan Oil

Maui

Matrix

Max Factor

N

Nyx

Neutrogena

Nivea

Nature's Beauty

Niely

O

Olay

Origins

Orkid

Oral-B

Oax

P

Pepsodent

Pantene

Q

R

Revlon

Rimmel

Rexona

Rhode

S

Summer Fridays

Schick

Smashbox

Sephora

Sensodyne

Skinceuticals

Skin Better Science

T

The Body Shop

Too Faced Cosmetics

The Ordinary

Tom Ford Beauty

Tampax

Takami

U

Urban Decay

Ulta Beauty

V

Vichy

Vaseline

Veet

W

X

Y

Yes to

Yuesai

Z

(Luxury)

A

B

C

Chanel

D

E

Estee Lauder

F

G

Georgio Armani

H

I

J

K

L

LVMH

Louis Vuitton

La Mer

Lavs

Le Labo

M

Mugler

Maison Margiela

N

O

P

Prada

Q

R

Raplh Lauren

S

T

Tiffany & Co.

Tom Ford

Tommy Hilfiger

U

V

Valentino

W

X

Y

Yves Saint Laurent

Z

(Tech & Entertainment)

A

Aol

Amazon

AirBnB

Apple

B

BBC

Buxton

Barbie

Booking.com

C

CNN

D

Disney+

Dell

E

Energizer

F

Ford

Fiverr

G

Galaxy

H

HP

Hyundai

Hulu

I

IBM

Intel

J

K

L

Lego

M

Motorola

Movenpick

Mattel

Microsoft

N

National Geographic

Nokia

Netflix

O

Oracle

Oxi

P

Philips

Q

R

Rolls Royce

S

Siemens

Sodastream

T

Toys R Us

U

V

Volvo

Valvoline

W

Wix

X

Y

Z

(Other)

A

Axa

Ariel

Aero

Ambi Pur

Airwick

Aroma

AVC

Amway

Ace Hardware

Andrex

American Express

B

Bounty

Black & Decker

Bonux

Bref

Braun

Benadryl

Band-aid

Barclays

Blue Cross Blue Shield

Better Help

C

Caltex

Chevron

Culligan

Citi Bank

Chicco

Cravola

Clearblue

Capital One

D

Dash

Drynites

Dosmestos

Doona

E

Expedia

F

Finish

Febreeze

Fixodent

Fairy

G

Goop

Gerber

Gys

H

HSBC

Huggies

Hayat

I

Imodium

J

JCB

K

Kimberly-Clark

Kleenex

L

Lion

Little Swimmers

Lenor

M

Mr Muscle

Minidou

Monsanto

N

Nicorette

O

Omo

P

Pampers

Purina Felix

Payoneer

Palmolive

Protex

Pull-ups

P&G

Prima

Pril

Paramount Pictures

Q

R

Rejoice

Rinso

Rogaine

S

Signal

Sensus

Sudafed

T

Tide

U

Unilever

Us Cellular

V

Vim

Vanish

Vicks

W

X

Y

Yumus

Z

(Places)

A

B

C

D

Disney

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

V

W

X

Y

Z

(People)

A

Ashley Tisdale

Amy Schumer

Andy Beshear

B

Bono

Ben Savage

Bella Thorne

Beyonce

C

Chris Evans

Claire Holt

Ciara

Chris Rock

Chris Pine

D

Demi Lovato

Dwayne Johnson

DJ Khaled

E

Eva Longoria

F

G

Gal Gadot

H

I

Ian Somerhalder

J

Jamie Lee Curtis

James Maslow

Justin Bieber

Jennifer Aniston

Jaclyn Hill

Jack Harlow

Jordan Peele

Joseph Quinn

Jack Black

K

Kylie Jenner

Kim Kardashian

Kris Jenner

Kerry Washington

Katie Perry

Karlie Kloss

Khloe Kardashian

Kat Graham

Kendall Jenner

Kourtney Kardashian

L

Lebron James

Lana Condor

Lana Del Rey

M

Millie Bobby Brown

Malala

Mindy Kaling

Mark Hamill

Madonna

N

NFL

Nina Dobrev

Natalie Portman

Nabela

Nicole Richie

Noah Schnapp

O

Octovia Spencer

P

Perez Hilton

Paul Wesley

Phoebe Tonkin

Pia Mia

P!nk

Q

R

Ronaldinho

Rihanna

S

Sofia Richie

Shaquir O'neal

Selena Gomez

T

Tara Strong

Taika Waititi

Taylor Swift

Tyler Perry

U

Usher

U2

V

Vanessa Hudgens

Viola Davis

W

X

Y

Z

[ak319]

Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

Part VII ➺Prev

Your name is Deniz here

It was your first night in Marrakech, and all you wanted was to erase the events of the day from your mind. Standing in the middle of the suite, your eyes were fixed on the footage of your arrival at the airport. Despite Kade's insistence on keeping it discreet, the Prime Minister and his wife had still shown up to welcome you. Their gesture was kind, but it only heightened your anxiety. In two days, you’d be heading to Rabat, where the real pressure awaited--meeting the royals.

Kade was in the shower, so you seized the chance to turn off the television and call it a night. Too much Kade in one day was migraine-inducing.

Moments later, Kade emerged from the bathroom, humming softly. She paused mid-step, towel in hand, as her eyes landed on you, curled up on the couch with your back to her, the comforter draped protectively around you. She sighed, but despite your obvious avoidance, a faint smile tugged at her lips. It was just like you to be headstrong and determined--especially when it came to avoiding her.

"Darling?" Kade's voice was low and raspy as she stood over you, but you kept your back turned, refusing to acknowledge her presence.

"You really gonna sleep here?"

"Absolutely. Now go away. Don’t wanna hear another word."

"Deniz, how about I sleep here, and you take the bed, love? Hm?"

"I said not another word."

"Fine, love, fine. Have a good night..." Kade’s tone softened with reluctant acceptance as she walked to the bed, but her eyes never left your form on the couch.

‘Is this how our first night will be? Or worse... every night? No, Kade, she just needs time, that’s all.’

The thought weighed heavy on her, the distance between you more painful than she'd anticipated. She lay down, heart aching with a quiet, unfulfilled longing to have you in her arms. But sleep didn’t come easily, the empty space beside her a sharp reminder of what she wanted--and couldn’t yet have.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

"Try this, it's so good. Here," Kade said, offering you a spoonful of tagine, the fragrant stew rich with saffron, preserved lemons, and olives. Without a word, you took the spoon from her hand and ate it yourself.

"Yum, right?" she grinned.

The breeze slips through the open window beside the sofa where you two are currently eating, your head peeking from the window gazing out. The air enters carrying with it the scent of spices and distant wood smoke. From here, the sounds of the streets drift up, muffled but unmistakable--the chatter of traders haggling over rugs, the calls of vendors selling fresh oranges and carpets. The view stretches further, past the bustling marketplace to where the city melts into the horizon, the Atlas Mountains looming beyond, their snow-capped peaks a sharp contrast to the sunbaked desert landscape. The room behind you is quiet, luxurious even, but it can’t hold your attention the way the city does, especially when she's here, in front of you.

You took a slow sip of your tea, savoring the warmth, when Kade’s morning voice reached your ears. "Today, we’re going shopping for you, love. So when you meet the Queen, you’ll be as Moroccan as she is," she teased, a chuckle slipping through.

You rolled your eyes. "You couldn’t have sounded more like a colonizer."

Her smirk widened, never faltering. "What?! How- even--Damn, you really just love blaming me for the sins of my ancestors for everything, don't you, love?"

"Well, not my fault you talk and even act like them."

"Oh, I do?" Her eyes gleamed, her voice dropping an octave. "If that’s the case, darling, let me tell you something. That Kohinoor sitting in a museum---worthless when compared to you. Offer me a million of those, and I’d still choose you."

" Nobody offered it to you anyway. And I would always choose the diamond." She ignored your comment.

"I’m not joking. And damn right, I’m colonizing--" she leaned in slightly, her voice taking on a dangerous edge, "I’d colonize any country if it meant having you."

You could barely believe your ears as you backed away, disbelief washing over you. "Kade, for fuck’s sake! You sicko!" You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that she was romanticizing colonization first thing in the morning.

Her playful smirk didn’t falter, though her eyes glinted with an intensity that made you uneasy. "Oh, come on, love. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy the finer things in life."

"Finer things? At the expense of someone else’s unwillingness and by force?! Wow," you snapped, unable to hold back any longer.

Kade’s teasing expression faltered, replaced by something colder, darker. “What’s wrong with me giving you finer things?” Her voice had lost its playful edge, now tinged with frustration.

You crossed your arms tightly, standing firm. "Just--listen Kade! You might not realize it, but the way you talk sometimes... it’s too much and all bullshit. Just stop."

Kade sat there, confused, her brow furrowing as she watched you storm off to the dressing room before deciding to follow you. Her presence was right behind you as you started rummaging through your bag, searching for something to channel your anger into.

She took a step closer, towering over your frame, her presence overwhelming as her voice dropped to a low, almost dangerous whisper. “I only want to give you the world, but if you’re going to fight me every step of the way…" The intensity in her words sent a shiver down your spine. As her hand reached out, you jerked your waist away, refusing to be drawn into her grasp. Without a word, you headed to the bathroom, leaving her standing there. Her smirk returned as she inhaled the faint trace of your scent lingering in the air, lips curling in quiet satisfaction.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

With no more than three bodyguards and in disguise, she took you to the bustling markets, where you did feel a thrill of excitement as you browsed and shopped. A feeling that you had become unfamiliar with. As your fingers traced an intricate piece of jewellery, her low voice brushed against your ear, making you jump. You shot her a glare through your shades, but she clearly didn’t care, a grin spread across her face. She was enjoying this way too much. Why wouldn’t this bastard will?

"You should buy it. Come on. You know, if you command it right now, Princess," she said, cocking her head to the side and leaning closer as you looked away, "I’ll empty every stall for you."

"No, thank you. And yes, I am buying these." You pulled out your own saved money---something your dad had withdrawn for you--and paid the vendor.

"Wha--Deniz? What was that?" She demanded, her tone sharp as you continued browsing another stall, smiling at the vendor.

"I’m asking you something. Why did you do that?"

"Why did I do what? Pay for myself? With my own money?"

"Deniz, we talked about this! I told you not to bring your wallet, and yet you did."

"Exactly, because it's my wallet, and I can." The frustration on her face was evident, but she fell silent. "Give me your wallet."

Ignoring her only made her more annoyed. "Deniz, don't make a scene. Give me your wallet--" Without waiting for your response, she snatched it from you and tossed it to her bodyguard.

"What the fuck--" You started, but she placed a finger on your lips.

"Shush." She dragged you into an indoor shop, her grip on your hand unyielding.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

"Why the fuck are you so insecure?! YOU DON'T EVEN LET ME DO SOMETHING THAT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I STILL HAVE SOME, LIKE SOME FUCKING AUTONOMY LEFT IN MY LIFE!"

She shook her head with a mock laugh as she set the last bag on the sofa and walked toward you.

"Right, and how long does this autonomy of yours last? One week? One month? Because that wallet, along with the bank details I just received, only says... about three months, love." She is still stalking you even after marrying. Of course.

"Can you fucking stop looking into my things for once , you creep!? Do you think I’m not going to get a job after this? I definitely fucking am."

"Deniz! You need to accept that you are now a PRINCESS! A DUCHESS! That is going to be your job! Are you telling me you want to do your old job or something?" At your approving silence, she pinched the bridge of her nose, laughing in disbelief.

"I just don’t understand why you say such... it hurts to say it, but it’s plain dumb, Deniz. You’re being childish. Whether on purpose or not."

"Just--give me back my wallet--"

"NO! Do you even realize how pathetic and spineless I felt letting you buy the very first thing on our HONEYMOON? Deniz, my money is YOUR money, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you spend your own here! Is this what you wanted? To marry some... civilian who just stands there and watches you buy things with your OWN MONEY?! Was that your dream life?"

"YES! Because, Kade, you are foreign to the idea of free will! That is what normal people DO! I TOO FUCKING FEEL SPINELESS!" Tears brimmed your eyes but you didn't back down. "You can't keep doing this shit to ME!"

"Oh, well, call it whatever you want. Now, I’m going to give you a few minutes to clear your head, and when I come back, this topic should be forgotten." With that, she stormed out, leaving you sitting dejectedly on the couch. You got up with a huff and poured some water for yourself.

"God, this is going to be so hard." Your eyes drifted to the bags on the sofa, and you decided to put them in the dressing room. Facing the mirror, a sigh escaped your lips. Is this your life now? To just always listen and accept things? You had to decide something here for your own peace of mind, otherwise, you would go mad. Either you keep being like this, make her life hell and pray daily that Kade realizes her mistake and divorces you, or just accept your fate and start living like before.

You scoffed at the idea of the divorce.

"Can you get me divorced from her in the future, then?"

"That would be possible when I become Queen. I could grant you permission. But that time seems far off, and...There are other factors to consider, including Kade’s own consent."

And the way Kade always used a contending tone whenever she expressed her love for you---always, forever, irrevocably. Will she even consent? "But I still love you. Never forget that. Ever. I won’t let you."

You were scrolling through your phone when she returned, her expression calmer and a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

A talk with your father about the money had helped ease her frustration.

"Deniz, love. Here." She handed you your wallet, and for a moment, you weren't sure how to respond.

"Take it. Spend it if you want. But just don’t stop me when I want to buy you things, okay?" You accepted it, curious about what had changed her mind.

"Now get ready, we’re going out for dinner."

"Why not just eat here?"

"Deniz, we can’t dine at the hotel all the time. Come on, get ready. I made a reservation."

And the days in Marrakech passed like a gentle breeze. Waking, shopping, eating, and dozing on the couch became your routine. What frustrated you was the long list of things you wanted--or needed---to do, yet couldn’t bring yourself to. The fear of being publicized, even while you diligently avoided your name on the internet, gnawed at you. And then there was Kade. You hated wearing the ring she insisted on checking before every outing. The thought of presenting a sombre face to the Moroccan royalty felt suffocating, it would only fill you with guilt instead of hurting Kade, and you weren’t rude by nature.

Kade, on the other hand, relished how you remained kind to others, fully aware of your internal struggles. Her hands and voice offered consistent comfort, even as you subtly rejected it, hiding your turmoil behind forced smiles. This was what she admired about you, your ability to shine for others despite your own darkness--a quality befitting a royal, especially as her wife. But it also drove her mad. She longed to be the one who elicited your genuine smile, not the one left in the shadows of your charm.

“Just a few days more…”

════∘◦❁◦∘════

The 13-day honeymoon in Morocco finally ended, and as you stepped onto the plane, waving for what felt like an eternity to the endless crowds, you collapsed into one of the plush seats with a deep sigh. Your body ached from forced smiles, from playing the role you never wanted.

“Tired, love?” Kade’s voice came from behind you, dripping with the warmth you had grown used to but never invited.

“Duh.” Your response was flat, lacking the energy to engage with her usual teasing.

She chuckled, settling into the seat across from you, a sparkle of amusement in her hazel eyes. “Wear your seatbelt,” she instructed softly, watching as drinks were brought over.

The cabin hummed softly with quiet luxury, but the tension inside you never quite unraveled. You lifted your drink, not in a celebratory mood but simply seeking any kind of relief.

“So,” Kade leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand with a mischievous grin, “Now you know what it feels like, being royal and all.”

“Mhm. How nice of you to give me the full 4K experience, Kade.” Sarcasm laced every word, but you couldn’t muster the strength to fight her today.

“Mention not, wife,” she replied, eyes glittering with something deeper as she settled back. “But of course, this is just the beginning...” Her voice trailed off, a promise hidden beneath her words that sent a shiver down your spine.

For her, this was a game--one she was winning. For you, the game had barely begun, and you were already exhausted.

After waking from a nap, you blinked groggily, realizing it had been three hours--and you were still in the air. Confused, you rubbed your eyes and glanced out the window, expecting to see the familiar descent, but all you saw was the endless sky.

“Kade?” Your voice was thick with sleep as you yawned. “Um--why haven’t we reached yet? Isn’t it late? Like...”

Without even looking up from her book, Kade responded in her usual composed tone, “Oh, we took another route, love. Have some tea. We’ll land in about an hour.”

You sighed, a bit annoyed but too tired to argue, and took the tea offered by the attendant. The cup was warm in your hands, the scent of spices soothing, but as soon as you took a sip, your vision blurred. Two Kades swam in your gaze.

“K-Kade...what’s...um--” Your voice slurred as your body felt heavy, your limbs turning to lead.

Before you could process what was happening, Kade stood up swiftly and scooped your limp form into her arms, her touch firm but surprisingly gentle. She carried you to the cabin room, her strength never wavering as she placed you carefully on the bed.

“Sleep well, love,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Sorry, I had to.”

Her voice, soft yet resolute, echoed faintly as darkness pulled you under. There wouldn’t be another screaming match, not tonight. She couldn’t bear to see that look in your eyes again--the fear, the resentment. She was going to fix it. She had to. All those negative feelings clouding your heart... she would take care of them. For sure.

Next

[jt1674]

[theatrepup]

“Brian Jones was indeed the father of what we now regard as world music…Brian’s championing of ethnic players such as the Moroccan Master Musicians of Joujouka back in 1967 should be regarded as groundbreaking artistic development, portents of the future.”—John Phillpott, Blues in Britain, 2024

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page

Only You Can Love Me This Way 

Chapter 13 

Choices, The Royal Romance, The Royal Heir AU 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Turning the Page Series Masterlist

My Complete Masterlist 

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks 

All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who both belong to this series. 

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match. 

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will have crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Words: 3624 

Only You Can Love Me This Way

Chapter Summary: Olivia continues to mentor Riley on how to adapt to Cordonian nobility. Maxwell, Bertrand and Savannah babysit William and Bartie, taking them on a Lythikan adventure. Liam and Riley re-connect and discover that their love story is stronger and better than ever. 

Music & Title Inspiration: Only You Can Love Me This Way, Keith Urban 

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.  

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’) 

A/N3: My submission for choicesjunechallenge, prompts: spatial-hotel / temporal-beginning/   dialogue- “Up for a little trip?” 

El Alami residence, Rabat, Morocco 

With her ankles crossed delicately underneath her, Madeleine El Alami pulled out her cellular to check the status of the Uber driver. It was still incredibly early in the morning in Morocco, and time was of the essence. Her flight was scheduled to leave in ninety minutes from Rabat – Sale International airport and nothing and/or no one was going to halt her journey. Not even her husband.  

Peeking out from between the fence columns outside her home, she could see the city coming alive as the sun's first rays illuminated the horizon. The people who had been hushed moments before, now filled the streets, greeting each other and heading off to start their day. It was a side of life Madeleine had never experienced before, a stark contrast to the opulence and splendor of her former life at the Cordonian palace. It was a reminder of the sacrifices she had made to follow her heart to be with her lover, Eduardo.  

Now five months pregnant, the former queen, now the wife to the Moroccan diplomat, was leaving this world behind. While her husband slept, Madeleine, along with two hand servants were waiting for the Uber vehicle to roll to a stop at the estate’s front entrance. Her suitcases were hefted on board, as she sat down in the rear seat and buckled herself in. The driver shut the door and the car slowly rolled away, the servants went back inro the estate. 

Her parents' disappointment and dismay had only grown when she told them about her unborn baby on their last visit. Her father coaxed her to pack up and return to his duchy in Karlington, England and start over. Her mother wanted her to move back home to Krona, Cordonia. As usual her parents were worlds apart when it came to their only daughter and her well-being, but they were united against Eduardo. 

However, she was done with being controlled by Eduardo.  Done with her father's demands and her mother's nagging. This time, she was going to do what she wanted to do. And what she wanted to do was to spend the rest of her pregnancy alone. 

As she Uber drove to the airport, Madeleine left her husband, forever closing that chapter, watching the world go by; but not seeing anything. Her mind turned to the letter she had left for her husband. She had no regrets for her actions but hoped her words would provide solace for him. 

She felt nothing. No sadness. No loss.  

She had already mourned her former life and the loss of her title as queen. In its place was a new sense of freedom. And with that new sense of freedom came the hope for a new life, with the baby growing inside her. 

Nevrakis Lodge, Lythikos, Cordonia 

"Are you excited to see Uncle Maxwell and Aunt Savannah today, William?" Liam spoke as he was getting his little prince ready for the day. William giggled. "Yeah!" 

"And you get to ride in a carriage! You have never ridden in one before, have you?" Liam smiled as his son's excitement grew. "YES! Horsies!" the little boy replied enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement. Liam chuckled. "Let's go get some breakfast and then we can go and wait for Uncle Max.” 

"Okay, daddy!" William beamed; his excitement shined brightly from his big blue eyes. 

As they entered the hallway, they heard a familiar voice call out, "William! Look at how big you are!" 

"Unca Max!" William cried out, running towards his favorite uncle. 

Maxwell scooped the little boy up in a bear hug, smiling widely. "We're going to have so much fun today, little man!" 

"Where's Bartie?" William was concerned, his eyes searching for his newfound best friend. 

"I'm over here," Bartie replied, popping out from behind his mother. "I wanna play with the horses, too. Can we, Mommy? Pleeease?" 

Savannah gave her son a loving smile. "Well as long as the two of you eat your breakfast first." William bounded over to his little friend. "YAY!" The boys both cheered. Liam strolled over, "Savannah, hello. You look well this morning," Liam kissed her cheek. 

"As do you, your majesty," she replied with a curtsy, bowing her head. “Liam, I am so happy and excited for you and Riley.”

"Thank you, Savannah."

Liam clapped Maxwell on the shoulder. "It is good to see you both, too, Lord Beaumont, Duke Ramsford." 

“Your majesty.” Bertrand bowed and smiled, then stepped back to join his wife. 

"Good to see you too, Li." Maxwell grinned at his childhood friend, as the men watched the boys follow Savannah as she grasped their hands. 

Liam shook his head, a grin on his face. "Those two are inseparable. It's a good thing Bertrand has gotten over his fear of children." 

Maxwell laughed. "Bertrand loves kids, he just has to be the most uptight person on the planet." 

Liam chuckled. "I suppose that's true." 

"Hey Max, are you ready?" called out Savannah from down the hall. 

"Ready to eat always, Savvie ... as I"ll ever be," Maxwell replied, turning to Liam. "So, what's the plan for today?" 

Liam gave a mischievous smile. "Well, I thought you could spend the day with William and Bartie, giving Riley and I a chance to have some alone time." 

Maxwell grinned. "Hah ... sounds like fun," he winked. "You're going to owe me, though." 

Liam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want." 

Maxwell chuckled. "Alright, let's get this show on the road. The kids and my stomach are waiting." 

Liam turned back to adjust his tie and reached for his suit jacket which was draped over a wing chair. He walked to the foyer to meet with Riley and Olivia, Bastien following discreetly behind him. 

"You're dismissed, Damien," Liam said. "I appreciate your vigilance. 

“Of course," Damien bowed and took his leave, joining the other members of the Royal Guard in the hallway. As he closed the door, his eyes wandered across the hallway, where he watched Olivia wrapping William in a hug before turning toward the foyer and the waiting limo outside. 

Damien had been captivated by Olivia from the moment they were introduced. As he watched her wrap the little crown prince in a hug, his mind wandered. 

He could not help but admire her grace and elegance, the way her fiery hair shone underneath the chandelier or when her eyes sparkled when she laughed. 

Damien knew he could never have her, but the thought of being able to spend time with her, to make her laugh and see her smile, was enough to fuel his dreams. 

He wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to kiss her soft lips and feel her body pressed against his. 

But that was all it could ever be, a fantasy, a dream. 

‘What would a Duchess ever see in a guardsman? Olivia is a rare beauty,’ Damien mused. ‘She's not like any other noble, and she doesn't seem to care about the status or title.’ 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and he straightened up, adjusting his uniform. 

As Damien thoughts went back to his post, his eyes drifted back to Olivia, and he could not help but wonder if there was a chance, however small, that his dreams could become a reality. 

*** 

“Olivia, why are you being so secretive?”  Riley inquired again, after spending the morning shopping for clothes and accessories in the city center, the limousine rolled to a stop at the Nevrakis lodge entrance. 

Bastien opened the limousine door as Olivia stepped out. Glancing back to Riley, she smirked, “You are one lucky lady”. Riley’s eyebrow lifted in question. “You, my dear have a final challenge to endure." 

Riley sat and blinked as she took in her words. After reaching for her bags Riley turned her attention to exit the limo after Olivia, when she heard a deep baritone voice, "...Hi." 

Riley looked up to see a six-foot, 4-inch-tall familiar man looking at her with a huge smile. Dressed in a crisp, sleek suit overtopped by an Armani topcoat 

"Liam? ...What are you doing here?" Riley’s eyes went wide as she looked up at her lover. 

"...And dressed like that?”  

“Love, I wouldn't dream of being underdressed for your final challenge." Liam smirked and then chuckled softly watching Riley’s look of disbelief. 

"So, you're here for the challenge too?" 

"You bet. I've been waiting for this moment since you came back to Cordonia." 

"Liam, what is going on?" 

 “This is our final destination. According to Olivia, I am the challenge.” 

"And that would be?" 

Liam smiled wide, not giving out any clues.

"Oh my, this isn't a game show, right?" 

"Not to worry, love. All I know is that Olivia has prepared something for us and it's a surprise." 

"Okay. So, what is this surprise? Please tell me."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to spoil the fun." 

"Liam, I don't like surprises." 

"Love, I know ...I can see that. But, I think you will like this one. This is our last day in Lythikos; I've already been briefed and we're going to have a blast." 

Olivia’s watched their exchange and added, “the last thing you need to get back into fighting form is to reconnect with what you are fighting for. 

...And you have always been driven by your love for Liam; for your family.”

Liam slid his arm around Riley’s waist pulling her close to him. “Which was an unusually sentimental thing to hear Olivia say.” 

Olivia sighed, “a bit saccharine for my tastes, but to each their own. I always thought love was a weakness, but you seem to actually draw strength from each other.” 

Riley’s scrunched her eyebrows, “Just to be clear, my last challenge is to spend time with King Liam Rys?” 

“The whole day, actually. Olivia is taking us into town.” 

“Everyone else will help me take care of William while you’re away.” Olivia added.

“Sweet! Free daycare! I’m really warming up to Lythikos hospitality.” 

“It’s a circumstantial offer. Cherish it while it lasts.” 

Liam kissed Riley’s cheek, “believe me, we plan to.” 

“But Olivia, you’re supposed to be looking into our Madeleine problem....and the press.” 

“Damien and I will dhave everything covered; I promise. 

And you have your marching orders. Reconnect and start fresh, that you may crush your enemies on the morrow.” 

Liam grinned, “Ah, Romantic.” Placing his hand on the small of her back, Liam steered Riley back into the lodge to change into the evening wear that she bought in town. 

Standing at the entrance of the dining room, along with the other guards, Damien Nazario stood vigilantly watching the crown prince. His eyes were sharp and ever watchful. As a trained ex-secret service agent and bodyguard, he knew when people were watching. 

His attention was suddenly drawn to a smattering of voices outside in the main hall, and a moment later, Duchess Olivia Nevrakis entered the dining room, and Damien felt his breath catch. 

She was stunning. She had been stunning the night before, but he had not noticed her beauty fully. This morning, the Duchess wore a form fitting black and grey suit. Her vibrant red hair was done up in a chignon. Damien was entranced by her, but he knew better than to stare. He tore his eyes away from her and glanced down at the floor, taking in the shiny black patent leather of her boots. He swallowed, wondering how they would feel around his neck. He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. He looked up, and his eyes once again caught sight of her, this time her stormy blue green eyes were looking straight into his. 

She arched an eyebrow and tilted her head as she regarded him. Damien's cheeks warmed. 

"Good morning," a voice sounded beside him. 

"Morning," he mumbled, glancing back to where the Duchess had been, only to find her gone. 

Drake chuckled. "See something you like?” 

***

Inside the limo, Liam and Riley arrived outside an upscale restaurant in the city center.

Bastien opened rhe passenger door and Liam stepped out, holding out his hand for Riley. She took it and climbed out of the limo. She gasped when she looked at the building in front of her. "This is beautiful." 

"You are beautiful," Liam smiled. "And tonight, you will be dining on the best seafood this side of Paris." 

"That's a high bar to live up to." Riley's eyebrows raised. 

Liam chuckled. "It can certainly get the job done." 

They were escorted inside the restaurant, with Liam's hand on the small of her back as they were led to a secluded table overlooking the city center. 

Liam pulled out Riley's chair and she sat down, exposing her long tanned leg through the side slit of her cocktail dress. He sat down and his eyes drank in the sight of her, his gaze lingering on her legs. 

Riley blushed. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." Liam looked down. 

Riley reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "Look all you want, Your Majesty." 

Liam lifted his head and locked eyes with her, his blue orbs sparkling. "I have wanted to do this since the night of the Coronation Ball. You were breathtaking that night. I wanted to sweep you into my arms and dance the night away with you. But there was always someone or something getting in the way." 

Riley grasped Liam's hands in hers ...

"Mmm, this whole place smells like fresh bread. I want to eat that smell." 

"I will order the kitchen to prepare you a fresh loaf immediately." Liam grinned. 

Riley threw her head back and laughed. 

"Please do. After Olivia's challenges, I feel like I could devour this entire restaurant." 

"I love the sound of your laugh," Liam whispered. 

Riley's heart skipped a beat. 

Liam's grin widened. "I hope we have many more dates just like this. After Olivia's unique brand of 'help', we've definitely earned this day." 

Riley giggled. "That was the nicest way of saying Olivia was a royal pain in the ass." 

Liam let out a chuckle. "That was very diplomatic of me, thank you." 

Liam smiled as a steaming breadbasket and the entrees were set down on the table. The waiter tops off Riley's red wine and sets a glass of scotch down for Liam. 

Riley picked up her glass and held it aloft. "A toast. To us." 

"To us," he echoed, clinking his glass against hers. 

As Riley takes a sip, the waiter places a small dish in front of her. Inside is a thick chocolate sauce in the shape of a heart, the word "love" written in script, and two berries. 

Riley looked from the dish to Liam, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Chocolate covered strawberries? Are you trying to seduce me, Liam?" 

"That depends," Liam replied, a matching grin forming on his face. 

"On what?" Riley asked. 

"Whether or not it's working," he whispered. 

Riley's eyes met his and they burned with desire. 

"I'll take that as a yes." His grin widened and he leaned across the table. Liam took Riley's hand in his, his fingers tracing slow circles on the back of her hand. "You are beautiful. I wish we could have been together from the start." 

Riley's lips formed a soft smile. "So do I, Liam. I don't want this night to end." 

"It doesn't have to." Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, laying them on the table between them. 

"Up for a little trip?” 

Riley's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting we run away together?" 

"One of the best kept secrets in Lythikos is a glass igloo tucked away in the mountains. The perfect view of the stars, the perfect view of the valley." 

Riley bit her lip and looked up at him from under her lashes. "I think I might have found the perfect view right here." 

"It's also very secluded. Not another soul for miles." Liam winked. 

Demurely smiling, Riley added, "I can think of a few ways to take advantage of that." 

"So can I ... if you're up for the trip." 

Riley picked up the keys, the smile on her face growing wider. "Let's skip the dinner and jump right to the dessert."

"Then we should leave right now," he suggested, his eyes never leaving hers. After a few calls, Liam stands and offers his arm to Riley. 

Riley slipped her arm through his and together they headed out of the restaurant, and back into the waiting limo. 

The driver was already waiting and pulled the car into the traffic. They passed through the city streets and up into the mountains. It was dark when the car finally pulled up in front of a domed glass structure. Stepping inside, the entire frozen mountainside stretched out around on all sides, a beautiful aurora shined through the ceiling panels. 

"Oh Liam, this place is unreal ... it's all the natural wonder of camping with the comfort of a five star hotel." 

"And a lot more privacy." Liam added.

"After the past few weeks, I really wanted to get you away and alone," Liam softly spoke, his arms slipping around Riley's waist. 

She placed her hands over his. "Me, too. I don't want this day to end." 

"I have one more surprise for you." 

Riley smiled. "Is that why you brought me here? For a surprise?" 

"No. I brought you here because I want to be alone with you." He kissed her cheek, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. 

Riley's eyelids fluttered and she tilted her head back. "Mmm, is that so?" 

Liam nuzzled his nose against the spot behind her ear. "I wanted to do this all evening." 

"What's stopping you now?" 

He grinned. "Nothing." 

Liam pressed his lips to hers. She melted into him and deepened the kiss. His tongue sought hers and they moved together in unison. He cupped her ass and pulled her into him, her curves conforming to his body. 

Riley's hands tangled into his hair, her fingers tugging. Liam moaned into her mouth, his desire rising. Together tumbling back onto the bed, legs tangling as they fall down onto the plush mattress. 

A while later, Liam's fingers combed absently through Riley's hair as they watched the way the colors and lights swirled around, constantly changing.... It was hypnotic. 

"When I look up into the sky ... I see you. I see something beautiful, brilliant, untamable ... a breathtaking force of nature. I know that we have been through a lot, but when you're in my arms like this ... I also know that we can find a way through it together, if you'll let me."

Riley sighed happily. "Liam..."

*I know, love, that I said I wouldn't bring it up again, but after tonight, I need to tell you that I'm so sorry for everything." 

"Liam, it's okay, I know you had to do it. I know the weight of the world was on your shoulders, and you had to do what's best for your people, that's your duty. But you have to also do what's best for yourself. We all do." 

Liam's grip tightened slightly around her waist. "That's what I want. You...

"Riley. I love you. And William. I can't imagine my life without you both in it."

"I love you too, Liam," she whispered. "So much..."

"Do you forgive me?" Liam asked quietly in earnest. 

"Of course, I forgive you. I am so sorry that I was a coward and left without telling you about..."

"SSHHH! There is nothing to forgive you for, Riley. You were just doing what you felt you had to do. I am so sorry that the court was so unfair to you. My father ..." 

"Liam, please. Let's just focus on the present."

"... and the future." LIam added with a kiss...

@choicesficwriterscreations @thosehallowedhalls

[spacelazarwolf]

making moroccan loubia with khobz (semolina rolls) tonight for shabbat like a true sephardic malewife.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Jewish Song of the Day #12: Bellida

Comments:

Okay so at one point I went spelunking for more female Jewish singers singing in classical styles, and I stumbled upon this song, which is sung in Haketia, a Moroccan dialect of Ladino that also incorporates some Arabic.

It's a secular(ish) song, but very much culturally Jewish.

I'm not going to explain it well, so instead I'll simply quote from this article about it:

On October 25, 2019, Bloch and Zaaluk released their newest hit single Bellida. The song is sung in the traditional Haketia, an endangered Jewish Romance language also known as Djudeo Spañol, Ladino Occidental, or Western Judaeo-Spanish. Tamar is part of a new generation of young artists from Arab and Islamic countries who sing in their mother tongues. Her mother was born in Morocco. “I’m not involved in a preservation project and the social narrative isn’t what’s important to me. In my music I have found, after much searching, a real place for intimate expression – a language that’s a home, ” said the singer in her interview with Haaretz Magazine. Bellida is “definitely a pop album. It’s not world music from a distant and inaccessible culture, which is being preserved. I bring the songs in modern arrangements in the understanding of how relevant this music is.” The song was arranged with the help of Roee Fadida. It is a humoristic women’s song that represents the tradition of women singing in everyday life. “It tells the story about a Jewish-Moroccan girl (Bellida) who falls in love and marries Pepe, a Christian man. The ladies in her village make jokes about it but comfort her with local food.” Although Bloch and primarily sings with the goal of inspiring audiences to sing and dance, she understands her creation bears social obligation. Specifically, it is the female responsibility aspect of Bellida that Bloch warmly embraces. “It is something that I really yearn for,” she says. “Jews assimilation is a very serious prohibition, yet Bellida is not ostracized. She is cared for by means of tradition and food.” Bellida is Bloch’s interpretation of secular feminine folklore. “I imagine these women dancing together. Music brings people together. In Morocco, you see everyone sitting and singing, and being familiar with the words,” she says. “In Israel music reflects the various cultural homes from which we came. The real challenge is to try to create a new sound from within every such home.” In sharing her story of how the heritage songs came into her life, Bloch explained that in 2014, Roee Fadida, a role model, invited her to join a band that plays contemporary Moroccan music. She described having a physical reaction to that music. It felt like I was “smelling a roll outside a bakery and I had to take a bite.” Bellida is performed alongside Bloch’s band Zaaluk, a trans-Mediterranean and North African ensemble that revive lost Haketiya women’s songs. Their age-old melodies are performed to inspire people to sing and dance together and embrace the heritage of the ancient Jewish community of Spanish Morocco. Their sounds are inspired by Andalusian, North African, and Balkan musical traditions. Their music is a combination of electric guitar, bass guitar, drums, percussion, and powerful vocals, performed in Israel and abroad. The name of the band refers to a local Moroccan salad and captures the group’s multi-cultural essence.