#please credit me if you use it i worked hard on it even though its a lil stank

[cupcakehamster64]

THE VIDEO IS UP! Enjoy! I made this using MASH (Microsoft Agent Scripting Helper) and Microsoft Clipchamp for editing the actual video.

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

[sanarsi]

Kinktober Day 3

Monsterfucking

monster!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Gif credits @pedrorascal

Summary: Your poison lessons with Oberyn went wrong when he accidentally drank the wrong potion. Warnings: +18, MDNI, monster fucking, unprotected PIV, dubcon, rough sex, dirty talk, possessed!Oberyn, insults Wordcount: 1,1k An: Oh god… this is my first time writing something like this. I have no idea if i even managed to portray the monster fucking well (just kill me ok). Today I just wanted to thank the people who read all my works on an ongoing basis (I see u @amyispxnk) and let you know that, YES, I see all the comments and reblogs, BUT I'm busy gettin ready for vacation, so I don't even have time to go on tumblr. I promise I'll answer everything when I'm at home, under the covers and with a warm cup of tea. So lots of kisses and hugs to the people who comment on my works. I love you xx

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

You were prepared for a lot in life, meticulously improved your skills in every field.

History, magic and... potions.

Thanks to your skills, you were given the honor of personal lessons with the Prince of Dorne. In the old, dirty and forgotten basements of the castle, where there were only you, old books and thousands of glass vials filled with deadly substances.

When you look at it from a third-person perspective, it sounded like a guaranteed tragedy. And that's exactly what it was.

After a few hours, tiredness took over your senses, which in the circumstances you were in, was simply unacceptable.

No one in their right mind would continue such dangerous activities, feeling even the slightest dizziness from the lack of fresh air and sun. And yet, you two forgot yourselves, too caught up in your studies and how much fun you were having.

Because, it had to be admitted, there had been unspoken words between you for a long time and you took advantage of every moment together.

This is what led you to the situation you find yourself in.

Tragedy.

Even the two of you, some of the best scholars in the kingdom, couldn't have predicted that someone had mislabeled the vials. Such a small mistake had large and terrible consequences. And you became the only witness who, unfortunately for you, experienced the effects of a potion of unknown origin on your skin.

On your skin, or rather, in you.

“Stay still.” Another loud growl bounced off the walls.

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back a tearful moan. His body pressed you hard against the table as he tried to push deeper into you. Your body, however, was not used to such sudden and hard penetration.

You were shaking, trying to get used to the size of his cock, which had plunged into you just as unexpectedly as this whole situation had started.

You couldn't even fully process what was happening. His eyes went black in a split second, casting a terrifying darkness within him. A darkness that turned him into a mindless beast that longed to sink its teeth into the closest living creature - you.

“Why do you have to be so tight,” he gasped against your ear and thrust his hips hard again, pushing deeper into you. “I want all of you.”

Your pussy was throbbing with pain and wild pleasure you had never known before. And even though the prince wasn't himself right now, this was what you had dreamed of since the day you met him; for him to sink into you and make you forget about everything.

You moaned loudly, gripping the edges of the table tighter as it creaked with every movement. Your eyes misted over each time his tip dug into your cervix.

“Oberyn, please,” you sobbed.

You received a raspy laugh in response that didn’t sound like him at all.

“Pathetic little girl, you really think your prince is with us now?”

You shivered at the sound of his voice, strangely distant and deep.

He dug his fingers deeper into your hips, finally pushing himself all the way inside you. An animalistic groan escaped his throat as he could feel how wet and tight you were all over his cock, clenching around him over and over again.

You barely had time to catch your breath as his hot breath fanned your neck and another dark laugh reached your ears.

“So what are you?”

Your question hung unanswered as he busied himself with inhaling your scent and licking your skin. You were overwhelmed by the closeness he was taking over you, everywhere, on every side. There was only him.

“I am everything he wants to be.”

He slowly pulled his hips back, allowing you to feel every inch of his manhood. You shivered, desire to have him inside of you again overwhelm your senses.

He didn't let your dreams wait long to come true.

He thrust into you, the force making both of you shudder. The feeling of bliss was so great that it took over him almost immediately as his hips slammed against yours.

Without thinking, he began to fuck you. Hard. Not allowing you to think. All you could focus on was how the pleasure and pain mingled into an addictive feeling that was building in your core.

“Do you know how long he’s wanted to feel your cunt?” he asked, breathing heavily from the pace he set for himself. “Gods, how could he hold back for so long?”

He shook his head in disbelief, a wild glint passing through his black eyes as he stared at your pathetic form, moaning in adoration. He thrust into you harder, making you cry out. A pleased smirk appeared on his face before he leaned in close to you again.

“I’ve had you for a few minutes and already want to keep you.” His breath fanned your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Forever sinking into your wet, warm flesh,” he purred.

“Yes, please,” you gasped, overwhelmed by how good it felt to have him inside you, against you, on you. He was pleased with how drunk you were.

“Give me your orgasm, little mortal.”

His cock stimulated everything it needed, to bring you closer to your desired fulfillment. You had no idea if it was because of the demon that had taken control of him, or the fact that it was in his body and you could finally feel what it was like to have him inside you.

Oberyn thrust into you recklessly, as if that was all he was made for. Your increasingly loud moans only fueled him. He wanted more. More of you, your heavenly core, and your animalistic sounds.

“Show me what pleasure I give you,” he whispered, running his nose along your neck, where he sank his teeth a moment later.

He did it so hard, that the piercing pain went straight between your legs, and the orgasm shook your body. You screamed in euphoria, pulsating on him so hard that he had to pull out of you so he wouldn't come.

“I love the orgasms of sluts like you,” he laughed mockingly, and when he let you experience your fulfillment, he thrust into you again.

You sobbed, overwhelmed by the intense feelings you had just experienced. The shadow of your coming still wandered over your body when he started fucking you again.

“Oh yes, even wetter and more sensitive,” he said with satisfaction as he listened to your helpless moans. “Don't worry, we're just gettin’ started.”

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 and @iamasaddie bc I know u love oberyn

[13as07]

I’m Not Clingy #2

(Itachi Uchiha Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to minya1995]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,967

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Oral (Female Receiving)

Hair Pulling

Thigh Humping

Cock Warming

Somnophilia

Choking

Exhibitionism

Titty Play

Attempted Fingering

Involuntary Voyeurism

———————————————————————

     "Itachi?" Kisame yells, his voice throwing my soft whimpers and pants into the shadows. The only thing separating him from us is a closed closet door and maybe five steps further into the hallway.

"Love?" I slowly exhale, tugging on the strands of his hair I have caught in my fists. "You're going to be late." Itachi doesn't even glance up at me, his full focus on rolling the tip of his tongue over my clit as he softly sucks on it. "Baby, your mission?" I try again, attempting to peel him off of me.

His arms wrap tighter around my thighs, yanking them further apart to send his point home. "In a second," he grumbles, taking a deep inhale before twirling his tongue over me again.

My head tips backward, resting against the cooled wall of the utility closet. Wisps of trying to pull him off again slide through my mind, quickly drowned out by the slow climb of my next orgasm. "You're... you're going to be late," I manage to stumble out, trying to settle the roar of my lungs at work.

"So? Getting to taste you is more important," Itachi whispers, taking another quick breath break. "How else am I supposed to survive forty-eight hours without you?"

"Clingy much?" I tease, pressing my thighs against the sides of his face to enjoy the way his cheeks squish. I only let the moment last a beat before trying to tug him off of me again.

"I'm not clingy," Itachi huffs, snatching my wrist and trying to shake his hair loose from my fingers. "Besides, you're the only one getting to cum, shouldn't you be happy I'm going to be late?"

"Not when we live with terrorists, no."

He rolls his eyes, head burying against me again. I give in, partly because I'm too close to the edge to not be left frustrated if we stop and partly because I know Itachi won't stop. At least not with the pathetic excuse of being late for his mission debrief and departure.

My thighs tighten around his face again, this time involuntarily. The closer I get to finishing, the more they squeeze around him. He doesn't mind though, I know he doesn't. There's nothing Itachi favors more than falling to his knees to please me. Maybe it's not all bad having him be so clingy.

"Damn it, Itachi," I hiss, gripping his hair to yank on.

His eyes shoot up, rolling over my face. I take it back, Itachi favors watching my facial expression spiral with an orgasm more than he likes going down on me. The favoritism is emphasized when his eyes start to spin, his sharingans being flicked on for the simple reason of picking up every micro-movement he worked so hard to force out of me.

My teeth sink into my tongue as I stare down at him, the copper taste of my blood being the exchange for the whole hideout not hearing me fall apart on my lover's tongue. Itachi's eyes crinkle in the slightest, a hint of self-pride and contentment poking out around the design of his advanced sight.

"Beautiful," he mutters, finally inching away from my pussy, the word breezing over my exposure as he exhales it. "What a wonderful thing for me to hold on to while we're apart."

"Clingy," I utter, finally tearing my eyes away from him. Heat curls up my neck, quickly coating my cheeks as it continues to climb upward.

"I'm not clingy," Itachi repeats, jerking forward to bury himself in me. He doesn't stay buried for long, attaching himself long enough to thrust his tongue into me before pulling away again. "I simply wish to taste you before I leave and to be buried in you as soon as I get back."

"That's being clingy."

"No its - "

"Itachi!" Kisame's voice booms in the hallway again, anger bubbling in my lover's name a lot more than before.

     "I got to go," Itachi grumbles, the contentment washing off his face about as soon as it was present. He slowly climbs to his feet, pulling my clothing back up with him. "I'll be back in two days, no longer than forty-eight hours," he reminds me, fussing with the button of my pants. "Will you be alright?"

     "I'll be fine, though I'm sure you're going to struggle being away from me."

     "Always, Little Crow," he whispers, brushing his lips against mine. The kiss is light enough that it could be mistaken for a simple breeze. "I cannot help my withdrawals from you."

     "Cling-er," I mock, dragging out the word.

     Itachi lets out a deep sigh, covering my senses with the warmth of his breath and the slightly tanged scent of myself still coated on his taste buds. "I'm not clingy, Crow."

                     ————————————

     The pet crow Itachi gifted me so long ago is trying his hardest to wake me up. The bell around his neck mixes with the sound of his lullaby cawing. His beak is nuzzled in my hair, softly tugging on it as he stomps around on my chest. "Kiko," I grumble, trying to shoo the bird away.

"He's just excited his Master is home," Itachi's voice rolls over me, his hands quickly joining the sea of calmness in my chest. His fingers carefully toy with my hair, working it loose from Kiko's beak before he picks the bird off of me.

     I relax back into the bed, turning on my side as I wait for my lover to join the bed. Itachi's presence is obvious in the room, even though he's trying to stay silent. Despite his return, I stay curled up and close-eyed in the bed, almost falling back to sleep from the soft sounds of him.

     "Hello, Little Crow," he whispers, the bed dipping behind me as he crawls under the sheets.

     "Hey Love," I return the greeting as Itachi slides an arm over my waist, the other digging between the mattress and my body to do the same. A pleased sigh spills from my lips, the presence being the source of it. "You weren't supposed to be back until the morning."

     "I told you, no more than forty-eight hours," he whispers against my neck, his lips sliding against it just as much as his words. "Forty-seven hours, fifty-eight minutes, and thirty-four seconds."

     "If I didn't know any better I'd think you're a stalker."

     "I'm not a stalker," he grumbles, shifting under the sheets again. Itachi bullies my knees apart, situating his leg between mine.

     "No, you're just clingy."

     "I'm not clingy," he hisses, jerking his leg so it slides against my panties that are barely hidden by the hem of his shirt. The same one I wore to bed last night.

     "Sure you're not," I hiss out, using my tone to hide the moan trying to sneak out.

     "I'm not," he repeats, punctuating the disagreement with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to the valley stretching my neck into my shoulder. Itachi's leg keeps moving, rubbing slowly but steadily against me. "Why won't you let me hear those sweet sounds? I've missed them. Let me hear them, Crow."

   �� A long exhale is released from my lungs before I give in. The night-painted walls of our room are coated in my whimpers and soft ohs, giving Itachi what he wants. In return, he rewards every noise with another sloppy kiss, making my skin raw and coated in a thin layer of his salvia.

     "I'm tired, Little Crow," he whispers in my ear, the arm on top of me melting down my body. "We can finish in the morning," Itachi continues, his fingertips ghosting over my slowly dampening panties. His fingers hook around them, tugging them to the side.

"I thought we were finishing in the morning."

"We are," he mutters, tugging his leg free from the grasp between mine. "But like I said before my trip, I wish to be buried in you as soon as I get back." His sentence is cut off by the slow movement of his dick sliding into me, the time apart making the stretch greater than usual.

I never remember how active Itachi and I are until he's away on a mission. More specifically, when he comes back and I'm filled by him again. Still, it's one of my favorite things in the world, being filled and re-worn by him.

His arms tighten around me and his head buries into my neck to muffle a long, deep groan ping-ponging in his vocal cords. "I missed you my Little Crow."

"I missed you too, my Little Clinger."

"I'm just horny and tired," he whispers, nuzzling his nose against my skin. Itachi's muscles finally relax against mine, the whole of him melting into the whole of me. "I'm not clingy."

                     ————————————

I can feel Itachi's eyes on me, following every movement I make around the dining room. I filter around the different members, weaving between their voices as they discuss this week's missions, their results, and those to come in the next few days.

I'm barely paid any mind besides a few soft 'thank you's, most of which are given in the form of a grunt. I don't mind it; the services of cooking, cleaning, and serving breakfast, the barely there acknowledgment from the members, or the ignores of my presence as they ramble on about their doings in the world. It's peaceful in a way, pretending - actually being - just a nanny to all of them.

     Well, almost all of them. Once I'm within arms reach, Itachi's hand is resting on my hip, gripping it as he slowly pulls on me. I ignore him, focusing on topping Kisame's drink off. My mind is running through what I've already done and what still needs my attention, meals taking up my time and barely sparing any for the clingy bird.

     "Little Crow," Itachi hisses, maintaining the vicious clan killer persona the group expects from him. His movements are rough, ripping me away from his partner in crime - pun intended - to situate me between his legs.

     His free hand snakes up, tangling in my hair like it's a spider in a web. Once his hold is cemented, my head is snapped backward, a trickling pain already dripping across my neck. Pain that's slowly starting to waterfall down my spine from being curved too far into a bend. Despite the pain he's causing me, he still leaves my head resting on his shoulder for support.

     Itachi barely moves, exerting himself just enough to position his lips next to my ear. "Everyone but me has been served and you're still doting on the others. Sit the pitcher down, go fetch my plate, then slide your pretty self into my lap where you belong, understood?"

     Tingles twist around my spine, mixing with the pain as it slowly drips to my core. In private Itachi is sweet, soft, whiney, and downright clingy, but in public? In public he treats me as rough as the edges he shows the world. Lucky for me, occasionally that roughness dribbles into our sex life. It seems like that's the case today.

     "Understood," I peep out, pressing my thighs together as I try to focus on anything besides the fire licking at my core, besides the want to have Itachi licking at my core.

     I'm instantly released, my lover melting back into his nonchalant position. Bored eyes, a relaxed posture, and an arm propped up on his chair to hold his head up. He doesn't even spare me a glance as I scurry out of the room. Despite a lack of interest from Itachi, the incident caught the attention of a few men in the room, their lust-laced sights burning on my heels.

     Sexual-fueled adrenaline races through my veins as I set the pitcher on the counter, quickly trading it for the still steaming tray of rice, fish, and side dishes I made Itachi for breakfast. The dishes jingle as I make my way back into the dining room, my excitement from the incident and the fire twisting in my stomach making it difficult to stay steady.

     Itachi's attention is still barely on me, but he does spare me a side glance, the corner of his mouth deepening by an eighth because of my shaky hands. I carefully slide his breakfast tray in front of him, sparing a glance into his teacup. Instinctually, my hand wraps around the glass, ready to head back into the kitchen and fill it for him.

     His hand shoots forward, gripping my wrist and yanking my hand away from his drink. "Sit," Itachi hisses, his touch going soft when I release his cup. Our eyes stay locked on each other as I slowly slide into his lap, our chests close enough that if I breathed any deeper my breasts would rub against him. The thought is nice, almost nice enough to test him over.

     The look on my face must have given my thoughts away because before I know it, the slim and chilled feeling of Itachi's fingers are sliding across my throat like frostbite. His head tips up, eyes heated and hard as he stares up at me, an almost bored expression on his face to counter the urge in his eyes. "Little Crow."

     I can't help the shiver that races through my body and causes me to jerk forward, my chest successfully pressed against his now. His jaw clenches because of my movement, a heated sigh being forced out of his nose. Despite what it looks like, I know Itachi isn't mad. He's frustrated from the lack of attention he's received this morning, and possibly a bit sexually frustrated too.

     The hand not wrapped around my throat, gripping it tighter by the second, dances over my thigh. Fingertips toy with the hem of my dress, carefully pushing it further up so he has more skin to play with. "You are being inadequate," he husks out, his tone soft enough that I'm convinced Kisame didn't hear it.

     "I'm sorry," for not giving you the adequate amount of attention this morning, needy man. I leave off most of the sentence though, knowing I can't handle any more teasing from him today.

     Itachi softly hums, frozen fingers slowly circling their way down my inner thigh. His sight melts over me, a game of hot and cold being played by his fingertips and his eyes.

     When his eyes climb back up the curves of my body, I'm softly shushed, no actual sound coming out despite the actions being played out in front of me. Confusion costs my mind for a moment, quickly ran off by less oxygen being allowed into my lungs and Itachi's freezing touch tugging my panties to the side, just like he did last night.

     His eyes flicker down, pointing to the imprint of his hardened dick before most of his attention is pulled away from me again. Itachi easily slides back into the conversation, the only proof of his knowledge of me being his hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing hard enough that every breath has an underwire of a wheeze.

     Whines for his attention rest in my throat, unable to squeeze out because of the small gap I'm left to use to breathe. This is Itachi's payback for paying too much attention to his co-conspirators all morning. His way of reminding me he allows me to feel dominant in our relationship, but at the end of the day, he holds all the cards.

     My hands settle between us too, greedy but slowly pulling him out of his pants. This is hot, dangerous, stupid, but so fucking sexy. If Pain - or anyone for that matter - even had a flicker of a thought that we were disrespecting them in such a way, they wouldn't hesitate to kill us. Well... attempt to kill us. Despite all his flaws, I know Itachi would never put me in a position he couldn't keep me safe.

     My mouth snaps shut, jaw locked into place as I inch my way forward, teasing myself with the tip of Itachi's dick. I scream with my eyes for his attention, my hands gripping the hair on the nape of his neck once he's inched in far enough that he doesn't need my assistance to stay on track. My efforts are ignored, my lover is still focused on the conversation at the table.

     Tears prickle my eyes, partly from being ignored and partly from frustration. He's buried in me, his tip bullied as far in as possible. Even though I love being filled by Itachi, it's frustrating knowing that it's all I'm going to get. I'd give anything to rewind time and inch him into me again.

     Finally, my silent pleas are answered, even if the attention is minor. The thumb pressed to my neck slowly rubs back and forth across my skin, and the hand that was holding my panties to the side is back in my thigh, rubbing in time with the circles being traced into my neck. It's not a lot and definitely not enough. "Clinger," I hiss, keeping my voice soft. Despite my tone being gentle, my hands aren't, gripping his hair tighter before roughly yanking it.

     Itachi's eyes snap toward me, the fire from before ignited heater than ever. "I'm not clingy," he mutters back, matching the hiss of my words.

     "Says the man that couldn't wait another hour to use my - uh." My breathing is completely cut off. Outlines of Itachi's fingers promise to be left behind.

     "I," he starts, dragging out my slow suffocation. "Am." The fire constantly snuffed out by my breath quickly claws at my flesh, threatening to leave my throat raw. "Not." Fog fills my head, mixing with the tears in my eyes to muddy the sight of Itachi less than an inch away from me. "Clingy." He finally loosens his hold, oxygen being dragged into my lungs and washing down my throat like the first sip of water after trailing through a desert. "Understood?"

     "Understood."

                     ————————————

     "My Little Crow?" Itachi's voice softly filters into the yard, worn out by the distance between the back door and the clotheslines I'm standing in between. "Little Crow?" He calls again, his voice a bit louder and tinted in fear.

"Over here!" I call, the words coming out muffled and barely audible because of the clothespins I'm holding between my lips. Today is bedding wash day, meaning the sheets of the whole hideout needed cleaning and now need hanging. Sheets lull in the wind, flowing freely. The first line is full, the breeze and cloth mixing to wrap around me. It's a calming sight but makes it difficult to hand the cloth without getting it dirty again, even with both hands.

"Crow?" He yelps, the sound of his footsteps pounding against the ground following the repeated call for me.

A low sigh spills out as I pin the sheet to the line. Itachi is quick to worry with no automatic off switch once he's made up his mind about me being hurt or in the way of possible danger. How a muffled call-back and clothes-lining sheets set off alarm bells in his head is beyond me, but it's how my lover works.

"Crow?" He yaps again, jerking the bedding sheet out of the way.

Another sigh spills out, this one annoyed because of the sight of the sheet on the ground. "Thank you, 'Tachi, know I have to clean that sheet again."

"You're okay?" He asks, sharingans glowing as they snap around my frame, scanning for any signs of distress. "You're bruised," Itachi whispers, jerking forward to rub his fingers against my neck. "When did that happen? Who did that to you? Crow?"

"You. You happened, this morning, at breakfast."

"Oh," he whispers, his breath slowing down and the glow of his eyes slowly melting back to their natural color. "I didn't think we were apart long enough for bruises to set in. My apologies, Little Crow."

"You're fine, 'Tach. We've both been busy all morning, no biggie," I comfort him, adding a soft smile as extra support.

Itachi moves forward again, movements back to their usual elegant form instead of the panic jerks from a few moments ago. His arms wrap around me, staying out for barely a breath before balling up my dress. "I'm sorry about this morning," he whispers, gently pushing us to the side so the sheets cover the view of us from the building.

"Why? I thought it was hot as hell."

A small smile touches his lips, not reaching his eyes. Something about this morning is bothering him and if I had to guess, it's probably the bruises he left wrapped around my throat. "It won't be happening again. It was a lapse in judgment, irresponsible, rutted in my craving of you, in my withdrawal from my mission, as you like to call them." His ramble is chased by his hands yanking my dress up my body, inch by inch exposing more of my skin to the sun rays melting down to the Earth.

My chest slowly starts to pump faster, fueled by the lust not fully fulfilled after breakfast. "You make me irresponsible, Little Crow," he whispers, using one final smooth movement to pull my dress over my head.

The soft breeze rolls over my nipples left exposed from a lack of a bra, the chill instantly hardening them. The change doesn't go unnoticed by Itachi, his full attention on my breasts. Slowly, his fingertips slide over my hips and up my sides before trailing over to my tits.

Enjoyment pools in his eyes as he cups my boobs, gripping them in his hold. Itachi wastes no time, instantly fondling them. "I missed your chest. I haven't been able to enjoy them since getting back," he utters, leaning down to replace one of his hands with his mouth.

His eyes snap upward, watching my reaction to his tongue sliding over my nipple and the gentle tease of his teeth against my tit. My tongue slides out, pulling my bottom lip in and between my teeth. For a man insisting we were already reckless today, he doesn't seem to mind doing it again.

Itachi's newly freed hand trails back down its path, taking a detour over the band of my panties. Expert fingertips poke under the elastic, starting the groundwork for the foreplay he's going to gift me. As his fingers inch downward, he sucks in more of my tit, sucking on it now instead of just teasing my nipple.

As a fingertip slides through me, teasingly rimming my pussy, the silent space is filled with the pop of his mouth unlatching from my breast. "Little Crow - "

"Hey, Itachi?"

Fear and then anger flicker across my lover's face. His hands instantly jump to cling to my waist, jerking us around so he's between me and the voice, my body enveloped and covered by him as much as possible. Itachi's head is jerked away from me peering over his shoulder.

My hands grip his biceps as I lean forward to both cover myself and peak over his shoulder as well. An unmoving and unblinking Kisame stands behind Itachi, his hand still gripping the sheet he pulled up to look behind. "You're kidding, right?" He finally utters, his eyes strictly on his partner. "We get a break from the meeting and you couldn't survive that short time without your precious Crow Girl's titties."

"Breaks are our time. Pain doesn't care what we do with our time."

"World class clinger. Honestly Itachi. Fifteen minutes. You couldn't survive fifteen minutes without being attached to her tit. I don't know how she deals with you being clingy."

"I'm not clingy!"

———————————————————————

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Kissing Ace and Deuce when they ask what flavour your lip balm is

I write Reader/Yuu as female

Masterlist

ACE TRAPPOLA 

“Babe,” Ace groans for the twentieth time in the past two minutes, “pay attention to me.”

“Ace,” you give him a look that does little to hide your irritation as you swipe your lip balm across your lips, “can you please be quiet?”

“Come on, Y/N,” he whines, giving you a pout as he poked your shoulder, “I just wanna spend some time with my girl. Is that so wrong?”

You gave him a look as you secure your lip balm’s cap and placed it in your bag, “We are spending time together.”

“I mean doing something fun. Not studying like a bunch of nerds,” he complains, “when you invited me to Ramshackle I thought that we were going to have some us time without babysitting your annoying cat or Loosey Deucy.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “I do remember telling you that I was going to be studying for Professor Crewel’s test this Friday. It was your idea to join me. Besides, you haven’t even been studying for the past ten minutes. I don’t remember going over house of cards assembly in Alchemy class.”

“Excuse you, Prefect, I worked very hard on that. I don’t see why you need to study so hard anyways. You’re practically the top of our class.”

“That doesn’t mean that I should start getting lazy.”

“Seriously,” he sighs, “you’re starting to sound like Riddle. All I’m saying is that we should take a break for a while. I don’t see you going over your notes when you stopped to put on that lipstick of yours.”

“It’s not lipstick, it’s lip balm. And I put it on because my lips were drying up.”

“Huh, what flavour is it?”

You look at your boyfriend and glance down at the scribbles in his notebook. To his credit he did manage to get some studying done in the past forty-five minutes he had been sitting with you at your self-proclaimed study table so you supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a bit. With a cheeky smile, you look at him and ask, “do you really want to know?”

With a look of confusion on his face, he replied, “uh, yeah?”

You lean forwards and place your hands on either side of his face before bringing his head towards you. Tilting your head to the side, you press both of your lips together in a sweet kiss. 

When you pull away he immediately grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you again with a mumble of, “I need to double check.”

And again, “I didn’t check it properly.”

“For good measure,” he winks at you with a smirk before licking his lips, positioning one hand at the nape of your neck and kissing you so roughly that you have to grip onto the edge of the table in front of you to avoid falling down on your back (though you know for a fact that Ace would never let you get hurt), your boyfriend’s mouth swallowing the embarrassing yelp you had let out. When he had eventually pulled away - since, apparently, oxygen was a thing - leaving the two of you panting slightly, he gives you a smug grin, “it’s strawberry.”

“Really?” you deadpan, “after all that, you still got it wrong.”

“Huh,” he looks at you confused, “what else could it be?”

“Cherry,” you state incredulously, “how can you not figure it out? I got it because it reminds me of you.”

That smug look is back, “really, Y/N? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’ve got feelings for me.”

“Trust me,” you retort, “even I don’t know why that is. My current guess is temporary insanity.”

“Whaa-hey!”

DEUCE SPADE

Reader is shorter/around the same height as Deuce

You snap your handheld compact mirror shut once you had finished applying your lip balm, the sound of its lid clicking into place catching the attention of your boyfriend, who had been replying to a text message from his mother. The two of you were on your way back to Ramshackle after you had waited for Deuce to finish his session of track and field club when his phone alerted him that his mother was checking up on him and ‘his pretty girlfriend’ much to his embarrassment and your amusement. He looked up from his phone to glance at you.

“What’s that?” he asks as you twisted the lid of your lip balm closed.

“Lip balm,” you reply, holding it up, “Vil’s been on my case about how dry my lips are so yesterday he gave me a set of these.”

“Oh,” he looked at the little yellow stick in your hand and noticed that there weren’t any labels on it, just a bunch of really small writing in black block letters on its side, “what flavour is it?”

You give him a smile, “why don’t you take a guess?”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and before he could say anything else you had grabbed ahold of his tie and gently tugged him down before stepping up on your toes and placing your lips against his.

You can tell that he’s startled from the slight inhale he does and the way his body had tensed under your fingers, but then he immediately melts into the kiss, pressing his lips closer against yours. When you pull away, you let out a quiet laugh at the sight of his face trailing after yours, his wide cyan eyes stared at you as if he was completely entranced. A bashful rosy pink had spread across his nose and over his cheeks and ears as you beam at him.

“So,” you tease, “any ideas?”

“Um, uh,” he whispers to himself, his head tilted downwards. A contemplative look adorned his face before he looked back at yours, eyes shining with anticipation, “vanilla?”

“That’s right,” you say happily, patting his shoulder. Just as you had turned around and made a single step forwards but you felt his hand grasp your wrist and pull you back. You turned to look back at the boy next to you to see his flushed face smiling shyly at yours.

“Can,” he muttered softly, “can I have another taste, please?”

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

—old habits die hard

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

masterlist with next parts!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity. 

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other. 

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.  

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P." 

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.  

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.” 

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. 

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons. 

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family." 

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation. 

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—" 

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to." 

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision. 

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?” 

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.” 

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay. 

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy." 

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun." 

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.” 

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.” 

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.” 

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise." 

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.  

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead. 

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text. 

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab. 

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate. 

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?” 

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.” 

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often." 

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."  

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”  

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home. 

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.” 

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side. 

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect. 

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?” 

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.  

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face. 

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake. 

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.” 

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.” 

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly. 

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here." 

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added. 

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired." 

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap. 

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor. 

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.” 

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?” 

“I love it,” you tell him.  

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.” 

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling. 

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to." 

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh. 

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him. 

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him. 

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."  

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along. 

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.” 

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.” 

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.  

“Sweet dreams.” 

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.” 

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.” 

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.” 

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."  

“That's better,”  you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.” 

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission. 

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail. 

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen. 

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”  

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.” 

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.” 

“Don't tell me what to do,"  you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera. 

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.  

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack. 

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore. 

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa." 

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”  

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t. 

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel,  "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.” 

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.” 

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.” 

“Please do.”  

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it." 

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again. 

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question. 

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home." 

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”  

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.” 

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.” 

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate. 

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—" 

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone. 

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.” 

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...” 

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass. 

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing. 

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug. 

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.” 

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!” 

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.” 

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes. 

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind. 

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway. 

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way. 

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room. 

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!”  he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver. 

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race. 

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.” 

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you. 

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it," 

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk. 

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back. 

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.  

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself. 

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly. 

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile. 

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel. 

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.” 

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.  

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?” 

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm. 

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck. 

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks. 

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his. 

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs. 

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds." 

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.  

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.” 

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.  

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.” 

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say." 

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.” 

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster. 

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch. 

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you. 

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him. 

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.” 

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.” 

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard. 

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over. 

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum." 

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel. 

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself. 

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer." 

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours. 

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.” 

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.” 

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me." 

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky. 

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?” 

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again. 

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you. 

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.” 

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick. 

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.” 

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”  

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house. 

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page. 

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.” 

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?  

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you. 

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex. 

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard. 

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it." 

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse. 

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.” 

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them." 

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?" 

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas." 

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.” 

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.” 

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you. 

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace. 

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful," 

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.  

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?” 

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it. 

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss. 

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend. 

“Can I wash your hair?” 

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.” 

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy. 

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”  

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out. 

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!” 

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island. 

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress. 

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing. 

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content. 

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.” 

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.” 

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that." 

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this. 

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen. 

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew. 

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.  

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling. 

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week. 

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this." 

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.” 

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels. 

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end. 

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid. 

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story. 

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity. 

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart. 

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go. 

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything. 

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I need more platonic headcannons in my life; can you do some general headcannons for being friends with Charlie, Angel Dust, Alastor, and Rosie? (Separately BTW)

Charlie

Being friends with Charlie includes being down for her crazy ideas and schemes.

You are her third in command, the second being Vaggie, with whom you need to be friends.

You get to know all the details about all the hotel inhabitants. Charlie needs someone to spill the tea with who isn't her level-headed partner.

If you are single, she constantly sets you up on dates; she just wants you to have what she has.

However, if you are Aro or Ace, she stops and just finds more people for you to be friends with.

If you are super artistic, be prepared for her to ask for your help with a million things around the hotel.

If you are more left-brain and planning-oriented, she will definitely need your help making sure she shows up to her meetings on time.

She has a high standard of care for you. She is definitely texting three times a day to make sure you ate and are drinking water, friend.

She is a princess with a million and one things, thanks to her dad, so she loves spoiling you and Vaggie.

Friend dates are a must, whether at the hotel or not. She needs to decompress from her relationship, too.

Angel Dust

Clubbing every weekend and some weeknights. However, he will settle on sleepovers if clubbing isn't your style.

He only trusts you to help him when he is having a hard time with Val, so you two go on a lot of self-care dates.

When he can convince you to go to a club he is the ultimate let me hold your drink I trust no one else here.

You and he sit at the bar a lot and bother Husk. Between him flirting and you asking deranged questions, it is always a fun time.

Gives you the best flirting and dating tips, he may be a horn dog and porn star, but he is still a romantic at heart.

You two will 100% play dress up, it is one of his favorite pass times with you especially since a lot of Vel's clothes are meant for people with two arms.

He will not let you visit him at work, though he always comes and visits you. He is afraid that if Val saw you, he would try to trick you into working for him, too.

Teaches you how to pole dance if you are really curious; he thinks it's an excellent skill to have even if you aren't in the sex work industry.

If you choose to follow his lifestyle, he supports you wholeheartedly and even goes out of his way to help you find an ethical club or producer to work for so Val can't get his hands on you.

Alastor

He is a gentleman if you pass his vibe check and are allowed into his inner circle.

You two will go on hunts together if you like; if not, you are the first person he offers the cooked kill to.

Will try to convert you to cannibalism only a handful of times, if you like it you like it if not well damn.

He lets you help him script his broadcasts; however, he doesn't let you speak on them, so people won't come and target you.

Loves to help you ruffle Vaggie or Husk's feathers. Literally, his biggest enjoyment is making either one upset at whatever you two concocted.

Please help him annoy Lucifer; he will be your best friend for life.

You and he visit Rosie regularly to have tea dates and gossip about what is happening with all the other overlords.

He lets you help him clean up his murder weapons, sometimes its more fun to get your hands dirty than using the shadows all the time.

You and his central shadow talk constantly; this annoys him because you two goof off when he's trying to work.

You are the only person who he told about his wounds from Adam, and you help him clean up, best friend pact for life. You won't tell anyone how weak he was.

Rosie

She lets you help at the shop a lot, giving her more freedom and you more street credit.

She will stick up for you against Susan, even if you can handle yourself.

She shows you off to the other cannibals about how close of friends you two are.

She invites you to all her and Alastor's tea dates, enjoying the company of her best friends.

Like Charlie, she will try to find you a date, but only so she can kill them and eat them after they upset you.

Will also try to convert you to cannibalism; however, if you aren't in that crowd, she will happily take up cooking lessons with you.

Honestly, you two have a lot of cooking dates. I'm not gonna lie; you're teaching her how to cook regular food, and she teaches you how to cook other sinners.

She tells you all about her four dead husbands. She ensures you know all the juicy bits so you can hate on them together.

If she gets another husband, you will be the one to decide his fate 9/10. Rosie will come up to you and ask yes or no.

She teaches you all the weaknesses of a human so you can fare better in hell without her.

[4pfsukuna]

Enemies to f⭐️cking lover Toji

Ok so ive been thinking about releasing a 3-5 part enemies to lovers(or something along those lines) for toji although i know the most common works on here is one shot smut. Trust smut will be involved… its toji

You used to be an american spy but japan pays nearly tripple. The jobs were quick easy taking 2 days at max. You had climbed the interest ladder for your ability to get things done in a quick and neat fashion with minimal mess and uproar increasing your salary from 4 figures to six in only a couple of months. Unfortunately theres another assasin whos getting in your way and hes the exact opposite of everything you stand for. 

Not only does he not wear a mask to cover his identity, he lets his targets know exactly who he his just so they can have his name as their last thought before death.

Toji fushiguro.

The biggest jackass youve ever met.

This wasnt your typical one sided beef where youd get mad at him and hed flirt no he had beef with the number one assassin who was stealing his target which means his money. It truly grinded his gears and yours when they made you split a salary.

“Might as well go home princess” you hear his raspy voice though princess was said in a derogatory way hes made it clear several times he hated the way you did things. Why be so… clean. Death is death.

“Fuck off pretty boy go back and crawl into whatever shitty little backroom of a laundry mat and return to horse betting” you seethe having done your research on him. Its not like he needed the money for anything important unlike you who wanted it for taking care of responsibilities back home.

This mission had been one of your biggest yet and you did not need to blow your hiding spot nor cover by arguing with his big ass over nothing.

You're grabbed from the crouching position your in and slammed against the brick wall not hard enough to hurt but it does press into your all black outfit.

“You can do whatever research you want on me but you dont fucking know me… you dont know shit.” he snarls lip on his scar stretching further yet you shove him off. “And im not a pretty boy”

“Please youre not the threat you think you are” you scoff attempting to bruise his ego and the way he steps forward lets you know you did but you never let your guard down to your surroundings and youre quick to pull out your gun aiming in his direction.

He chuckles crossing his arms over his broad chest and you may be uninterested but youre not blind to how his compression tee squeezes him in a way thats… satisfactory to the eye.

“Going to shoot me princess? I thought you were too good to get your hands dirty. Squeemish at blood even” he pokes until you release six shots shooting the men slowly approaching that he failed to notice.

“You fucking shot me!” He growls touching the tiny drip of blood from where the bullet grazed the tip of his ear just enough to break skin not cause any definite damage. 

Taking a bow you smirk before making eye contact with him the only gap in your mask being the slot for your eyes.

“Oh sorry about that pretty boy, ill do you a solid and let you tell shiu you got this one all on your own.” you tease knowing his pride wouldn't let him take the credit for something he wouldn’t do. 

“No i don’t want your pity kill” he seethes looking as if he’s ready to throw a tantrum yet you can only smile knowing you won this battle.

“Great more money for me” you grin running past him the location no longer serving you any purpose. It was time to cash in and Shiu didnt stay up past 2am.

Toji grabs your arm stopping you from escaping though before he could speak the faint sound of sirens in the distance growing closer.

“What? You goin’ to hold me here until the cops get here with these other dead bodies how do you think that’s going to look? A big, strong and muscular giant holding a petite young woman like myself” you victimize yourself and you watch the frustration grow in his eyes knowing he has to let you go.

“Its not fucking over” he hisses releasing you with a slight push making your smile grow even wider.

“Great more chances for me to teach a pup like you what not to do” you tease tearing off a piece of his shirt and pressing it to his ear. “Wouldn’t want your blood at a crime scene would we fushiguru”

And youre dissapearing into the darkness of night and he watches your silhouette slip down an alley until he no longer can. 

You may have thought you had the last laugh but he was best friends with Shiu. So when you near you third week of no assignment you figure its time to reach out to the former and see what the issue is. Learning that Toji somehow convinced him you wanted a break you decided it was time to cut your ties temporarily with the man and find a new “project manager”

The next assignment is the most you’ve ever been offered so high in the six digits it’s close to seven and for a simple retreival mission.

So when youre standing surrounded

“Toj

Waking up with a throbbing headache youre confused when you meet the eyes of a spikey haired 5 year old who is playing with a toy truck a black puppy not to far behind. He must feel you stairing since he turns to face you and gives you a toothy grin.

“My dad must like you, he doesnt let us wear hats in the house but let you keep your mask on” he stutters slightly and you reach up feeling the mask

[fanfics4all]

Safe Haven

Request: Yes / No

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1291

Warnings: Being shot, I believe that’s it.

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

*Spencer’s POV*

The call came in the middle of a briefing. My phone buzzed on the table, vibrating loud enough to make everyone glance in my direction. I frowned, unsure whether to answer, but something in my gut told me to look. I excused myself and stepped out of the room, answering as soon as I saw the caller ID. 

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” I answered, my voice professional. The words that were said on the other end hit me like a freight train. 

“Sir, this is St. Agnes Hospital. We have your girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, here. She’s been shot.” The rest of the conversation was a blur… a mass shooting, a mall, and she was caught in the crossfire. My heart raced as panic bubbled to the surface. I barely registered Rossi stepping out to ask what was wrong before the words spilled out. 

“Y/N’s been shot.” I managed to get out, my voice barely steady. 

The team sprang into action, offering to accompany me. Within minutes, we were speeding toward the hospital, my hands gripping the seatbelt so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mind raced with possibilities, statistics about gunshot wounds and survival rates, each scenario worse than the last. When we arrived, I practically ran to the front desk. 

“Y/N Y/L/N…” I said breathlessly. 

“She was brought in, shot, at the mall.” The nurse looked up with sympathy. 

“She’s stable, Dr. Reid, but in surgery. The bullet didn’t hit any major organs, but she lost a lot of blood. You can wait upstairs in the ICU waiting area.” I exhaled shakily, nodding, my legs feeling like jelly as I moved toward the elevator. 

The waiting was unbearable. The team sat with me, offering quiet comfort, but I barely noticed. My mind replayed every moment of this morning… the way she smiled before heading out to the mall, how she kissed my cheek and told me not to work too hard. I should’ve gone with her…. Hours later, a surgeon finally appeared. 

“Dr. Reid?” I stood up so quickly my chair scraped against the floor. 

“Yes?” 

“Y/N is out of surgery and stable. The bullet went through her shoulder, which caused some damage, but she’s incredibly lucky. She’ll recover fully with time and physical therapy.” Relief washed over me like a wave, leaving me weak in its wake. 

“Can I see her?” The surgeon nodded. 

“She’s still sedated, but you can sit with her.” 

“We’ll wait here.” JJ said and I simply nodded. 

When I entered the hospital room, my heart clenched. Y/N lay pale and still against the sterile sheets, an oxygen tube under her nose, and an IV in her arm. The sight of the bandage on her shoulder made me feel both gratitude and anger. I was grateful that she was still alive, but angry at whoever had done this. I sank into the chair beside her bed, my hand trembling as I reached out to hold her. 

“Hey…” I whispered, even though she was still asleep. 

“I’m here.” 

The team stopped by briefly to check on us, but I hardly noticed when they left, giving me space. Hours passed and I stayed by her side, refusing to leave. 

When her eyes finally fluttered open, I sat up straight, my heart pounding. 

“Y/N.” I said softly, my voice thick with emotion. 

“Spencer?” She mumbled, her voice hoarse. Tears welled in my eyes as I leaned closer. 

“You scared me…” I admitted, my voice trembling. 

“When I got the call…I thought I lost you.” Her lips curved into a faint smile despite her obvious discomfort. 

“Take more than that to get rid of me.” I laughed weakly, pressing a kiss to her hand. 

“You’re not allowed to joke about this. I’ve already been through every worst-case scenario in my head.” 

“I know.” She whispered, her fingers brushing against mine. 

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. 

“Don’t be. Just… promise me you’ll rest and let me take care of you for a while.” She smiled again, her eyes closing briefly as exhaustion overtook her. 

“As long as you don’t start quoting medical journals at me.” I chuckled, my grip on her hand tightening slightly. 

“Deal.” She drifted back to sleep and I stayed by her side. She was safe. 

The next few days were a blur of hospital visits, whispered reassurances, and my constant presence at Y/N’s bedside. I memorized every machine in the room, every beep of the monitors, and every flicker of her expression as she fought through the pain and exhaustion. When she was awake, we talked about everything and nothing. Books we’d been meaning to read together, obscure facts I shared to distract her, even lighthearted jokes to make her smile. But under the surface, I couldn’t shake the guilt. I wasn’t there to protect her… 

It wasn’t until her third day in recovery that Y/N noticed the strain in my expression. 

“Spence…” She said softly, her voice still rasping slightly. I glanced up from the book I was pretending to read, my brow furrowed. 

“What is it? Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse-” 

“Stop.” She interrupted, her hand reaching for mine. 

“I’m fine, but you’re not.” My shoulders tensed and I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. 

“I should’ve been there…” I admitted after a moment. 

“If I went with you, maybe I could’ve stopped it.” She sighed, squeezing my hand gently despite my weakness. 

“Spencer, you can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t know, and even if you were there, you’re not a superhero.” I flinched, my lips pressing into a thin line. 

“I’m supposed to protect you. You’re the most important person in my life, and I couldn’t do anything to stop this.” Tears stung her eyes as she heard the raw pain in my voice. 

“You protect me every day.” She said firmly. 

“You make me feel safe, loved, and cared for in ways no one else ever has. This wasn’t your fault, and I’m okay because of you. You’ve been here every second since it happened. That’s all I need.” I finally met her gaze, my own eyes glassy with unshead tears. 

“But it’s not enough…” I whispered. 

“It is. Spence, you’re enough. You’ve always been enough.” She insisted. Her words broke something in me and I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to her uninjured shoulder, my breath shuddering against her. She lifted her hand to run her fingers through my hair, comforting me as best she could. 

“You’re my anchor, my steady place. I don’t need you to be a hero. I just need you to be here.” She muttered. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” I said fiercely, lifting my head to look at her again. She smiled through the tears in her eyes. 

“Good because you’re stuck with me.” 

By the time Y/N was cleared to leave the hospital, I had transformed into the ultimate caregiver. I had her recovery schedule planned to the minute, every detail accounted for, from her physical therapy appointments to her favorite snacks. The team teased me about my over-preparedness, but Y/N found it endearing. 

When we got home, I helped her settle on the couch, fussing over pillows and blankets until she laughed softly. 

“Spence, I’m not made of glass.” She said, reaching for my hand to stop me. 

“I know.” I replied, sitting beisde her. 

“But you’re still healing. Humor me?” 

“Always.” She said with a smile, resting her head on my shoulder.

We sat there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. Seeing her smile again, knowing she was here, alive, and healing… that was all I needed.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl 

[wewerebornsextuplets]

idk how but you draw in the Oso-san style so good i need to know your secret please

HAHA thank you very much!! im glad you think so :D unfortunately im not very good at explaining how i work, but ill try my best to show what i mean!!

once again this is long as hell. you know the drill at this point

to be honest, half the battle i fight with drawing in the osmt style is just. Looking at it. the ososan art style actually fluctuates pretty wildly depending on what you're looking for, whether that be the mobile games (for instance, tabimatsu and hesowars look nothing alike in terms of style despite both being the same source material), official art and merch, or even the seasons of the show itself!

using ichi as my example here since i draw him the most, but its pretty easy to play spot the difference with the varying styles. even within a specific season you can do this across episodes, especially with season 1!

when i draw, i tend to be a bit sacrilege and use references across different media; usually ill use the show [especially season 2, if only because its a bit more "uniform"] as reference for the actual features and colors/poses/etc, but i like to use hesowars to reference proportions, since they seem to be most consistent there.

SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO NOTE: theres a WEALTH of fanartists that have styles that are INCREDIBLY similar to the show, so be careful to check your sources! these artists deserve credit for their hard work, which they often don't get since their work is reposted under the guise of being official art.

once you've pinned down the exact style you'd like to emulate, and the character you're looking to draw, its really just a matter of finding references, which is pretty easy! you can scrub through different episodes for good angles/shots, or if you're going for one of the game styles the AU wiki has most of the games catalogued to my knowledge. if you're looking to draw an oc, use characters you think they would look similar to in the show. if you really wanna waste your time, though, you can always scrub through crowd scenes in the show to see if any background characters might look like what you're going for; the season 3 episode Mt. Takao comes to mind, there were a lot of cute mob characters there.

using keiko as my example here, you can see that i pulled her features from multiple different characters to get her to look right in the style. with ocs, its important to reference a number of different characters, since the likelihood of a background character being a 1:1 for your little guy is unfortunately pretty low. there WILL, however, be a lot of characters that look KIND of like them. the key is to figure out what parts go where!

to this point, most prominent ososan women have very similar stock anime girl faces with very minor differences, so if youre looking to make a cute girl oc, most of the womens' faces can be used somewhat interchangeably. if you want your cute girl oc to have a more unique face, though, the movie gave us some women with more unique faces in the form of the NEETs' old classmates! theres also no harm in referencing male characters faces in this regard. #butchswag #kiruminikuya

BUT. going back to the assumption that you're drawing a canon character, today I'll be drawing oso for my example

when you're first getting a feel for the style, tracing some of your references can actually be a really great way to acclimate yourself to the characters proportions and features. think of like when you were a kid, and would trace over pictures of pokemon or cartoon characters so you could draw them better. its basically the same principle! this was especially helpful for me when it came to eyes; they vary the most wildly of any other trait that characters have in ososan, so going over the different shapes to get a feel for each of them was very important.

when you trace, though, I recommend doing so a bit more loosely, sort of like if you're doing a photo study for anatomy; block out the basic shapes and do small markers for different features (i.e small lines to denote where the eyes start and and, distance from nose to mouth, things like that), and from there draw the rest on your own.

after long enough you'll get a feel for the basic placement of where everything should go! the eyes and nose are undoubtedly the hardest when it comes to the sextuplets, since they shift around a LOT between games/seasons/etc. so don't feel bad if you have a hard time with that, since there isnt really a "right" answer with how frequently it changes. i still fuck it up all the time myself!

as for some basic tips, heres some stuff i try to keep in mind when drawing them that just helps the finished product look a bit nicer!

when drawing the hair + fringe line, its important to swoop it downwards a little bit; the flat across look Can work, but if you're not careful you risk showing the tops of their eyes, which is um. ew! ick! nast!

when a matsu is facing forward, their hair will usually tend towards one direction to keep the silhouette. in most screenshots i saw, the bowl cut points left! that said, dont be afraid to point rightwards if its better for your specific drawing!

and lastly: USE THE LIQUIFY TOOL. LIBERALLY. i am not joking when i say this has saved my ass so many times, its hard to get the placement right on the facial features and even harder to get everything to LOOK good, so if its available to you i HIGHLY suggest just squishing everything around with a liquify tool until it looks right. you can always go back and correct the blurry lines. its really a life saver

BUT YEAH! i dont know if this was very helpful but i hope you're at least able to gain something from it :-))

[hienekenfuckyeah]

Birthday Present

Fem!Reader x satosugu

Summary: You and Suguru decide to surprise Satoru for his birthday

Warnings: choking, , degrading, oral (F and M receiving and giving), fluff, sexual content, breeding kink, edging, spitting, praise.

I was late by 7 min give me ssome credit okay😭

(Not my art) its cute and silly though

The air in the room is heavy. The tension is thick enough for you to grab at it, as pants and whimpers, even moans pass through the pretty pink lips of the man with lidded blue eyes. The pleasure was intense for him as you and the gauge eared man worked on edging the man above you. Admittedly, it was his birthday and you two shouldn't be teasing …edging him so hard but the man above you was a masochist who enjoyed this way more than he should. 

“Hah~ so fuckin good~” Satoru moaned out, his grip tightening in your hair as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, his tip hitting your throat as is slightly contracted around him causing him to spill out a string of curses and bring you down on his cock deeper. You slightly gagged before being able to take it down easily. The tip of your nose touching his trimmed pubes as tears spilt past your eyes and an enormous amount of spit falling from your mouth, it dripped down your chin on to your exposed chest while Suguru groaned while sucking on Satoru's balls and graciously accepting any of your warm saliva that came his way.

Satoru watched the mess below him that unfolded intently, his body twitching in pleasure just as much as his cock, buried deep in your throat. “Hey~ Sug- ngh! Fuck~! Suguru…wanna….wanna see you eat h-  ah~ her out- fucking shit~!”

A sudden soft popping noise rings in the room as Suguru stops sucking and looks up at Satoru with lustful eyes, “as you wish, birthday boy~” he growls lowly before hoisting you up and off Satoru's cock for a minute by your hair, a thick amount of saliva and pre coats the white haired man's twitching dick and drips down to the floor while a strand of saliva connects from your mouth to his tip. This causes both men to groan. “You made such a mess, baby. Drooling everywhere like that. Good fucking slut~ Right Suguru?” He cooed

The man responded with a nod before speaking “so damn messy, might get her to clean it up if she likes making it so much~”

He chuckled.

You finally piped up, your voice hoarse from gagging on his cock, “don't tease~I wanna feel good…please just wanna cum~” you whined, slightly humping your heel.

Suguru only kissed down your neck to your collarbone while using his free hand to pinch your clit, making you jolt and moan loudly before Satoru caught it between his lips, kissing you from your senses as he shoved his tongue past your lips and you continued to let out little whimpers and moans as they both teased you. 

Satoru pulled away to give you time to breathe and leaned back as he observed how desperate you were getting while you helplessly humped yourself on to Suguru's hand and begged for more than just his relentless teasing.

 “Oh c'mon now don't taunt her anymore, at least let her cum on your face. K?” The white haired man cooed. 

Suguru finally lets go and moves his hand and hoists you onto his lap as he laid down between Satoru's legs, not caring as the mixture now drips on him and wets his hair. He then pulls you over his face and forces your hips down before Satoru tugged at your hair as if to hint you to start sucking him again. 

You whimpered as you engulfed his length again. Bucking your hips against the other man's face as he groaned in satisfaction, his tongue flicking up and down your slit with broad stripes up your labia and thinning his tongue out to tease around your bundle of nerves causing your thighs to shake and attempt to close shut only to be held in place  by the grasp of Suguru's strong arms. You moaned on Satoru’s cock causing him to buck his hips at the vibration and slam you down a little harshly as he finally finished down your throat and a breathy groan left him. 

“Good job baby….just take- hah~ take it all down your throat. Mmm~ good girl~” he praised as you felt ropes of his warm seed shoot down your throat and you continued to hump Suguru's face as needy moans drew from you and your eyes slightly rolled back in pleasure and excitement. 

Suguru slurped you down greedily, your juices coating his face as he groaned at the taste and allowed chuckles to leave him as he felt your legs clench every time he made a noise of enjoyment. “Ywu reamt sm gwwd whem I ewt yowr pwuwwy~” he groaned between your legs before prodding his tongue into your clenching hole and nuzzling your clit with his nerves making you squeal and shoot your hands downwards, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugged on black strands; whining as you did so while searching for some sort of semblance; rutting against him desperately. He groaned again, shoving his tongue into your leaking hole as deep as he could, enjoying how needy you were. “swo fwckin nwedy…cwm onw mw bwaby” and just like that the dam broke as you gasped and moaned uncontrollably. 

Satoru cooed at you as he watched you ride your orgasm out on his boyfriend's face. “There you go atta girl, your so fucking pretty~”

You find your lips against his as he greedily kisses you, groaning as he tasted remnants of his cum in his mouth with his sharp tongue. Suguru finished lapping up your orgasm with a satisfied sigh before allowing you to shift down on his abdomen carefully so as to not disturb your kiss. “Yo Satoruuu~” he purred, “wanna taste her~?” Satoru pulled away from your kiss, his glowing blue orbs gazing lidded at yours before he hums. “Come sit on my lap baby~” You scrambled up shakily and Satoru helped hold you and settled your down on his lap, his hands instinctively toying with your breasts and pinching your nipples before he motions to Suguru to him, listening to your sweet moans. He kisses the man harshly, exploring his mouth and groaning as he savored the mix of Suguru's spit and your cum. You watched and whimpered desperately, humping Satoru's thigh.

A strand of drool connects their lips as they pull away from each other and Satoru's the first to speak. “heh~ think this birthday boy's dick wants a taste of our little slut here~?” he coos before wrapping his hand around your throat making you whimper. “yeah pretty girl, you want that? Want the birthday boy to take you down on his cock with Suguru?~”

Suguru hummed in agreement and bit your shoulder hard enough to make you moan in pain and pleasure despite Satoru's hand squeezing your throat, depriving you of any other noises or stable breathing. “You look so gorgeous, but you'd even more gorgeous if you were fucked out~.” Suguru whispered into your ear and nibbled your ear lobe.  “C’mon hun, beg for it like the sweet girl we know you are~.” You bite the bottom of your lip before pleading for it. Satoru wasted no time, getting his cock lined up with your entrance and allowing you to guide yourself down his dick. A filthy squelching noise is heard in the room as you slide down Satoru, gripping his shoulders for dear life and moaning and panting his name erratically. Suguru was using some of your slick and leftover saliva to coat his cock as he rubbed his girth against Satoru and you. 

You whined at the feeling, already feeling so full with Satoru, and you're unsure if Suguru would even fit along with him. You quickly realized that he'd find away as he managed to push his tip through the tight squeeze with a groan. The slick helped him push into you slowly as Satoru moaned, feeling his boyfriend's cock rubbing up against his inside your clenching and wet hole as you let out a sob and babbled incoherently about it being too much. Eventually Suguru made it all the way with Satoru as they waited for you to adjust to their lengths. After a few minutes they began thrusting you, forcing you to cum almost immediately and clamping around them hard. They hissed in satisfaction as they continued to thrust into you, absolutely abusing your poor cervix and g-spot as you moaned border line screamed in pain in pleasure. Your nails dug into Satoru's skin making him groan in pain before leaning towards the junction between your neck and shoulder and biting hard enough for you to bleed. You sobbed as your back arched and you tried to pry him off in response to the pain. Satoru pulled off and began licking your tears away with a taunting tone, “aww don't cry hun, you can take. Like the cute little cum dump you are. All that cun from me and Suguru filling you up. Making you round and perfect with tits full of milk~.”You whined at his words andSuguru kissing and lapping your injury gently from blood, the saccharine metallic flavor sweet in his mouth. “Satoru is right hun, you would look so lovely with our babies. What do you say…would you like to make our birthday boy's wish come true? His wish is our command after all.” 

You though over his words before nodding, baby fever and being cock drunk overtaking your senses as you were fucked sensully on their cocks. One seemed to always be pressed against your cervix while the other glided through your walls. Your eyes lidded as you pleaded for them to cum in you causing their thrust to be much more harsher and quicker than before making you wail as they both lapped up your tears and praised you for being so good for them and their thrusts slowly became more sporadic. They were close as you came hard around them, your vision began to black out but the thick ropes of cum that finally filled you up shook you back awake with a moan and all three of you became exhausted.

The three of you panted heavily before your boyfriends removed their now flaccid cocks from you with a groan. You whimpered in response and watched as they admired you and praised you for being so good for them and allowing them to fill you up. Satoru plugs two into your hole as he stops his and Suguru's work  from dripping out as you whine. 

“Satoru I'm sensitive” you whimpered only for Suguru and Satoru to coax you with a coo. “I'm sorry hun, but we can't let you waste our cum. I really was serious about knocking you up” Satoru hushed, making you whine  more before Suguru spoke up “Its okay baby, we got you. We'll clean up and lay down for a while until everything settles down. Yeah?” he assured. You nodded and Suguru stood up and kissed your temple before walking off. “How'd you like your birthday present?” you mumbled into Satoru's shoulder. He grinned “It was unexpected, but I'd definitely go again…hell I'll go right now. It's still my birthday, no?” You pouted and shook your head “to sore. Need to sleep…maybe later?” he nodded “later.” Suguru returned and cleaned off the mess you guys made before hoisting you up from Satoru's arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist lazily as you  buried your face into him. Satoru stood up and walked with you two all the way to the bedroom where Satoru was sandwiched between, in cuddles and affirmations.

“Happy birthday ‘toru”

“Happy birthday Satoru”

“we love you!”

“I love you both too, thank you for everything”

And with that all three of you lulled off to sleep in each other's arms. Not to be awakened for at least the next 5 hours.. or until you give Satoru that other round you promised.

[book-place]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: various marvel movie spoilers, cursing, violence, drinking, weapons, death, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

*not my gif*

Summary: You became an avenger at a young age, and grew close with your team

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears For Fears

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Welcome to your life

Your eyebrows shot up as you let out a low whistle and turned on your heel, taking in your surroundings, “This place is nice,” You commented.

Tony smiled proudly from beside you, placing his hands on his hips, “I designed it myself.” He announced.

Natasha scowled, walking up from behind him and efficiently delivering a harsh slap upside his head, making the man yelp and grab onto the back of his hair, eyes filled with betrayal.

“Don’t let him fool you,” She said calmly, “Pepper did most of the work, he just likes taking the credit.”

You chuckled lightly at their antics, still taking in the sight of Avengers Tower in all its glory.

“Yeah, yeah,” The man scoffed before turning to and regarding you once more, “Come on, we’ll show you up to your room.”

Being recruited by the Avengers was the very last thing you had expected after a lab accident gone wrong, one that ended up giving you the power to create force fields around yourself and others. But it happened, and now you were being welcomed with open arms into your new home, even though you were just a teenager.

The three of you rode side by side up an elevator. A machine that though simple and common, was even fancier than almost anything you had ever seen.

Everything you looked at was ten times more expensive than anything you had ever even been allowed to look at in your life.

It came to a stop on a floor too high for other buildings and your two newly found teammates allowed you to exit before them.

You had already met the rest of the team, so you weren’t overly nervous about running into any of them on your first day.

“-and this is your room,” Tony concluded his tour of the floor that consisted of all of your rooms and a living room and kitchen, as well as a dining room.

He had explained to you that it was considered the living floor, but there were many others identical to this one if a case or purpose ever arose for it.

Yet again, you couldn’t help but allow your jaw to drop as soon as Natasha gently pushed the door open, revealing a room that could be an entire floor of the house you used to live in.

Tony walked off, calling over his shoulder about having JARVIS alert you of when dinner would be ready, but the redhead stayed behind.

She smiled gently at you, reaching out and squeezing your shoulder gently, “Welcome to the Avengers.” She said softly.

You exhaled a long breath when she began to walk in the direction Stark had just left in, and you tried to wrap your mind around what your life was becoming. The new life you were beginning to lead.

There's no turning back

All of it was too overwhelming. Too loud. Too dangerous. Too unpredictable.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t see, you couldn’t even hear yourself think.

It was your first mission as an Avenger and of course, it was going horribly. It was nothing like all the training and simulations you had been put through, or even the sparring you had done with Steve.

This was real- this was deadly. The gunshots wouldn’t just momentarily stun you, they would take away your life in a second, without hesitation.

You could barely even register the arrow that whizzed right past your head, narrowly missing you in such a way that had to be done purposefully, and ending up in the chest of a soilder you had been too distracted to even notice charging at you.

For the first time since the battle had begun, the first clear thought fought through the fog of your brain and became clear to you.

You needed to get out of there.

There were no further thoughts after that. No regret or guilt for leaving your team to fend for themselves. No shame for being a coward on your first time out in the field. Just the rapid, uneven, rising and falling of your chest and the constant ringing in your ears that wouldn’t go away.

Somehow, you had been coherent enough to stumble behind a flipped over vehicle that gave you shelter from the fight.

You sank to the ground unceremoniously and automatically brought your knees up to your chest and your hands to your hair, pulling harshly on the roots.

“Hey, hey-“ Clint dropped into a crouch by your side, placing a hand on your shoulder as his eyes swept over your face in concern, “What is it, kid? What’s wrong?”

All you could manage to do in your pathetic state was snap your eyes up to the man as your breathing came in and out unsteadily.

Suddenly, a look of realization overcame on his features and he reached his arm over and began to gently rub your back up and down. Much to your surprise, his expression was entirely void of the anger and disappointment you would have expected to see there after being found cowering pathetically away from the fight.

“I remember my first mission,” He spoke softly after a moment, eyes still scanning your surroundings for any sign of danger, “It wasn’t even as an avenger- mine was a whole hell of a lot less pressure than yours is. I was just some rookie shield agent on a mission that mattered, but wouldn’t have devastating effects if it went sideways.”

Slowly, your body unconsciously began to relax under his comforting hand and gentle words. He continued with a small chuckle to himself, “I couldn’t even hold my bow correctly. My hands were shaking too much- I’m pretty sure I shit my pants.”

That, at least, made a shaky smile make its way onto your face. It was small, but it was still something.

“It’s okay to be nervous and scared,” Clint spoke again, “Hell, I still feel the fear every time I step into one of these things. But I promise you,” He ducked his head so he could look you in the eyes, “We wouldn’t have picked you to be on our team if each and every one of us didn’t think that you were more than capable of doing this.”

“Really?” The question came out quietly. You hadn’t known that it had been their decision about whether or not to let you onto the team.

The man clapped your shoulder gently, “You’re an avenger, kid. We would never force you into a mission, especially one like this, but we could always use your help. So do you think you can go back out there and help us kick ass?”

A wave of confidence surged over your body and you straightened up and strongly nodded your head once.

He cracked a grin, standing up and helping you to your feet, “That’s what I like to hear.”

Even while we sleep

“Y/n, Y/n, come on. You have to wake up.” Steve shook your shoulders gently but firmly, “We have a mission.”

An incoherent grumble left your lips and you pushed your face farther into the pillow, refusing to open your eyes.

He sighed, “It’s in Sokovia,” He continued to shake you, “And it’s really important, people are counting on us.”

That finally caught your attention, and you reluctantly opened your eyes and threw your blanket off of yourself. You sat up and stretched your arms to the ceiling, “No one told me being an Avenger would mean waking up in the middle of the night,” You whined.

The blond man smiled at you sympathetically, “If we don’t do it, then who will?”

We will find you

“Shit!” Tony exclaimed through the comms, no doubt dodging something as extreme as a missal as he spoke.

“Language!” Steve chimed back instantly, almost as if it was second nature, the sound of his motorcycle revving sounding in the background.

You laughed loudly as you threw up a forcefield around yourself, successfully stopping a round of bullets from penetrating your skin.

“Wait a minute,” Tony chimed back in, “Is anyone going to comment on the fact that Cap just said ‘language’?”

“I will!” You cackled, punching a very confused soldier in the face, “He’s such an old man!”

Laughter from the rest of your team came through your ears as Steve let out a small huff, an explosion coming from the general direction you knew he was in, “It just slipped out,” He defended, “Plus, there’s a kid here.”

A gasp of offension left your lips and you could hear Clint take over your cackling from over comms, Nat even snickering a bit.

“I’m not a kid, Rogers!” You whined in a very child-like manner.

Turning your head to the side, you saw a large group of people rush their way over to Clint, no doubt hoping to overwhelm and overrun the man with their numbers.

With a slight tut of your tongue, though, you threw your hand out in his direction, making a force field form a protective barrier around him, to give him the time he needed to prepare for their attack and take them down with ease.

He turned his head to you with an appreciative nod and you called over with a playful grin, “We’re even now!” Referring to your first mission, merely a few months ago, that he had effortlessly saved you.

It was a joke between the two of you, everytime one of you would save the other, you would say that you were either even with one another or they owed you one, even though you had both long since lost track of all the saves.

Acting on your best behavior

You let out a loud cheer, raising your pool cue in victory with a large grin adorning your features, laughing as Steve let out a playful groan.

The blond man’s friend, Sam, laughed loudly and clapped Cap on the shoulder, “I can’t believe she beat you, and it’s her first time playing!”

Steve jokingly rolled his eyes, reaching over and ruffling your hair in a way that made you scowl.

“Hey! What’s with the long face?” Tony strode over and swing an arm over your shoulder, “It’s a party! There’s no negativity allowed at my party! What did Rogers do to you?”

Said man adopted a look of mock offense as he flitted his eyes over, “Why would you think I did something, Stark?”

“Because it's always you,” He replied simply before steering you away and towards where Bruce and Nat were at the bar with a laugh.

You got there and leaned your forearms against the counter whilst giving the two members of your team smiles of greeting.

“Want a drink?” Tony asked, sliding one across the surface towards you.

Just as your eyes lit up and you began reaching for it, Nat scowled and snatched it just before your fingers could brush against it, “Absolutely not.” She was glaring dangerous daggers at Tony.

“What?” He asked innocently, holding his hands up in surrender, “I was sneaking them at parties when I was way younger than her!”

“And look how you turned out.” The redhead retorted.

Tony’s smile dropped and he let out a noise of offense, but before he could open his mouth and snap back, a large hand clamped down on one of your shoulders.

“Lady Y/n!” Thor's voice boomed, causing you to spin around on your heel with a grin, “Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“I am, Thor, what about you?” You laughed.

“Well, it’s no Asguardian party, but you humans know how to have a much better time than I thought you did.” He exclaimed, eyes still shining with excitement.

Only a little while later, the guests had slowly but surely simmered out, leaving only you and your fellow avengers, along with Doctor Cho and Maria Hill, to lounge around on a couple couches.

“But it’s a trick!” Clint insisted, leaning his head back against the couch while twirling a drumstick in one hand.

“Oh no,” Thor laughed, taking a drink from his glass, “It’s much more than that.”

“‘Whoever be he worthy shall haveth the power!’” He mocked in a deep voice, guestering dramatically to where Thor's hammer rested on the coffee table in the middle of everyone. Clint scoffed, “Whatever, man! It’s a trick!”

You laughed from where you sat on the floor by Nats feet, the woman unconsciously running her fingers through your hair softly.

“Well, please, be my guest.” The Norse god seemed thoroughly amused by the entire situation and waved a hand in his hammer's direction.

“Come on!” Tony encouraged, clearly slightly buzzed from the drinks he kept pouring himself.

“Really?” Clint’s eyes widened, he clearly hadn’t expected to actually have his words entertained.

“Go Clint!” You cheered, pumping a fist in the air as your team chuckled all around you at your words.

Barton pushed himself to his feet and strode over, trying to appear to have much more confidence then he actually was.

“Oh, this is going to be beautiful,” Rhodey snickered, and you nodded in agreement.

“Clint, you've had a tough week, we won't hold it against you if you can't get it up.” Tony called to the man. Everyone laughed again.

“You know I’ve seen this before, right?” He thought it was just a parlor trick.

As soon as he placed his hand on the handle and moved to lift it though, he was met with much more resistance than anticipated.

He turned to Thor and blinked once before moving back to sit down, “I still don’t know how you do it.”

“Smell the silent judgment?” Tony snickered at his own words.

“Please, Stark, by all means.” He gestured towards the table.

“Oh, here we go.” You mumbled in amusement.

You watched as one by one, almost every member of your team tried- and failed- to lift the ancient object off the table, all while you sat back, cackling at their attempts.

“Lady Y/n,” Everyone’s attention was turned back to you, “Why don’t you give it a try?”

You glanced back at Nat, who shrugged with a small smile and took a sip from her beer, before shrugging yourself and making your way over to the table.

Readying yourself, you wrapped your hand around the handle and began to use all your strength to try and pull it up.

Perhaps you had been imagining it, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn that you felt the object shift slightly under your fingers.

But before anything else could happen, a loud screeching noise rang out through the room, making everyone flinch and divert their attention to where a robotic looking figure came limping through a doorway.

Turn your back on Mother Nature

You turned your head and gave Pietro a firm nod, who smirked at your signal before running at full speed through a row of robots, destroying them in the blink of an eye.

When he did so, you let out a whoop of celebration and stuck a hand out for him to rush back over and high five you.

The twins had realized their faults with being on Ultrons side and immediately rushed to assist your team. And as much as you loved the avengers, and while the Maximoff’s were both technically older than you, it was nice to have people closer to your age again. The three of you immediately clicked.

“Nice one!” You cheered, throwing your hands out to create a force field around the two of you just in time to stop some debris from falling over and flattening you.

“As glad as I am that the two of you are getting along,” Cap grunted through the comms, a background sound of clambering metal coming through, “Please keep your focus.”

“Why, we are very focused, Captain America.” Pietro’s thick accent rang through, sending you a cheeky smile.

Nevertheless, the two of you did get back to taking everything more seriously, and you quickly rushed to aid a panicked group of people who were trying to get to the helicarrier to get them out of the city.

You threw your hands up again and created a force field around all of you and you ushered them towards more help, “This way!” You called over the nearby sound of gunfire.

Waving off the cries of thanks you received from them after handing them off to some other helpers, you began jogging over to where you knew Wanda to be- wanting to check in on the girl- all whilst taking down Ultron's soldiers along the way.

“How’s it going?” You asked when she came into view.

A small smirk made its way onto her face, one so similar to Pietro’s that it left no doubt in your mind that they were twins, and she quickly sent out a beam of red energy into an incoming bots chest. It shattered into a thousand pieces upon impact.

“I think I’m handling it well.” She replied.

You laughed, wrapping a forcefield around one that was close to you just as it sent a bullet flying at you, making it bounce back at itself.

“Y/n?” Clint’s voice suddenly came through the comms, making your head snap up, though he was no doubt at least a few streets away, “I need some backup over here.”

With one final nod to Wanda, you turned on your heel and began racing to where you knew he was positioned, “On my way.”

After only one slight misstep in an alley that almost caused you to tumble into an ever collapsing brick wall, you pushed your way into a clearing and came to a sudden halt, breath catching in your throat and eyes widening at the sight before you. You could have sworn that your heart had even stopped beating all together.

It all happened in a slow motion fashion, only about ten yards away, Clint was in a squat position, cradling a kid to his chest and using himself as a shield to protect him. One of Ultron's robots hung in the air, aiming all of its available weapons at the man.

Without your mind even beginning to register what it saw, your body jumped into action and you leapt forward at full pace, throwing your arm out to send a shield the duo's way.

You were too slow. Too slow. Too slow. Too slow. Too-

Pietro got there before you could, before his faster than light brain could even compute that you had already gotten them out of harm's way, and he stood in front of them. His arms were stretched out to the sides as he used himself to barricade them from the incoming round of bullets.

He fell to the ground less than a second later, mumbling something that you weren’t able to hear over the ringing in your ears.

Immediately, you fell onto the ground beside him, your defenses collapsing as you did so, and a sob ripped through your throat as you hurriedly turned the boy over, searching for the lost cause of any sign of life.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, crying out and rocking his body back and forth. A boy you barely knew, yet felt so connected to. Someone who deserved to live.

Everybody wants to rule the world

Collateral damage.

You never liked those words. It always insinuated that something was broken, something that could no doubt be made whole again. But that word was too often used for people. People that could never be fixed- be brought back. People that could never be replaced.

This was the first time you ever experienced losing someone on your own team while out in the field, let alone someone you would consider a friend.

The rest of your battle with Ultron had been done numbly, your brain having gone into autopilot mode and leaving you to not even be able to think about what had just happened.

But then it was done, and you and the avengers were left to patrol Sokovia while everyone else was safely taken off, just in case something else were to occur.

Immediately, you had wandered off and found a quiet spot near the edge of the floating city and plopped down a safe distance away from the end, pulling your knees up to your chest.

The sound of soft footsteps made you look up, only to come face to face with a tear stained Wanda.

Guilt pooled in your stomach when you automatically came to the realization that you had been mourning a boy you barely knew while his own twin sister was left to suffer with it alone.

“Wanda, I’m so-“

“Shh,” She shushed you as you began to cry again, tears of her own slipping out of her green orbs, “I know, I know.”

She sank to the ground beside you and you held each other, both crying over the boy who hadn’t had enough time.

“I should’ve saved him- I should’ve noticed him there.” You hiccuped, clinging tightly to her shirt.

“It’s not your fault.” She whispered, resting her head atop your own, “You did nothing wrong, it wasn’t at all your fault.”

You were the only one that seemed to care- really care- about what happened to her brother. And not just that, but you were still just a kid- a kid that blamed herself for what had happened to him. Something that was completely out of your control, but you still took on the burden of the incident anyway.

Despite what you may think, Wanda could never hate you after today. If anything, it made her like you even more.

It's my own design, it’s my own remorse

“Are you getting a sense of deja vu? I’m getting a sense of deja vu.” Tony rambled.

“What do you mean?” You turned to him with a single raised eyebrow.

“You, me, Romanoff.” He gestured to the three of you walking in a line through the newly built Avengers Compound, where you and your team would all be staying now.

The redhead shared a playfully suspicious look with you, “What about us, Stark?”

The man grinned, as if having been waiting for the question to be asked, “This is just like the first time n/n moved into the tower.”

Nat chuckled when she realized what he meant and she threw a fond smile at you, “That’s true.”

“You were so little back then,” Tony teased, reaching over and ruffling your hair.

You scowled slightly at the action- no real anger behind your expression, though- and sidestepped his hand while moving to fix your hair.

“I was not.” You grumbled.

“I mean, you still kind of are.” Natasha smirked a little as she spoke.

Your mouth dropped open in betrayal, “Hey!”

Help me to decide

“Which color?” Wanda asked with a wide smile, holding up the different vials that all varied wildly in shades.

You quieted, eyes jumping from one to another as you thought it over for a moment before pointing to the middle one excitedly, “That one!”

“I’ll do the red.” Nat piped up from behind you, sinking down onto the mattress by your side.

“Perfect,” Wanda cheered, taking out your designated colors and one for herself as you all got ready to paint each other's nails.

The three of you had claimed to the rest of the team that you needed a girls night, before quickly retiring to Natasha’s room and promptly closing the door in Tony’s face, who had pouted and whined about not being invited.

You sighed happily, relaxing against the bed's backboard as Nat painted your nails and Wanda braided the woman’s hair, “This is nice, I needed this.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve never had a girls day,” Natasha had a slightly amused tone as she spoke.

“Me neither!” Wanda chorused.

“Same!” You piped up. The three of you fell into laughter, “But this is how it looks in the movies! So I thought, why not give it a try?”

Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure

“Voila!” Tony announced dramatically, throwing his arms out to the side to present what lay inside the dining room that had been practically untouched for the first few months of living in the compound.

Everyone looked around in shock, even Nats lips parted a bit.

Covering the table in the center of the room where foods of all shapes and sizes. All different kinds, with desserts and fast food bags, and even some food that looked homemade.

“What is all of this, Stark?” Steve looked around at the sight before him.

“Dinner.” Tony replied in a ‘duh’ tone.

An excited squeal left your lips and you latched your hand onto Wanda’s and quickly pulled the girl over to the table, taking a plate and beginning to fill it with food.

The girl chuckled along with a couple other members of the team at your antics, before the others quickly followed on your tail, filling their plates to the brim before taking seats around the vast table.

For the most part, everyone ate alone on their own times, so this was the first time that you were all doing it together since moving in.

You watched with a wide smile as everyone interacted, telling stories and filling the space with laughter. This- this is what you would picture if someone ever brought up the idea of a family dinner.

Nothing ever lasts forever

You didn’t like this- not one bit.

The heavy stare of Secretary Ross made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. His gaze held enough accusation and judgment to make you more than a little bit uneasy.

“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt,” The man continued a spiel that you and the rest of your team sat through in a heavy silence, it felt like you were children being lectured by a teacher for doing something wrong in class, “You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives . . . but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some . . . who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”

The word made you cringe slightly, but you stayed silent, eyes trained ahead. You didn’t even look away as you felt Steve and Tony’s eyes both flicker towards you simultaneously. You sat between the blond man and Natasha with the rest of the team spread out around the table.

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Nat tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly in a way that promised danger, though her tone was as innocent as it comes.

Ross scoffed, “How about ‘dangerous’?” His eyes swept back and forth over each and every one of you, “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

Your hands tightened around the arm of your chair, knuckles whitening slightly from the sheer grip you had on the wood.

When all of you stayed silent, he sidestepped to reveal a large screen behind him. He pressed a button on a small remote he held.

“New York.” He spoke as news footage from years prior flashed onto the screen.

The Chitauri Leviathan crashing into skyscrapers. Citizens running around in a panicked frenzy. Bruce in his Hulk form smashing into buildings.

“Washington DC.”

The three Helicarriers from that day firing at each other, crashing into one another. Massive waves caused by their crashes engulfing nearby citizens.

“Sokovia.”

The city rising from the ground. Citizens screaming a crying. Fires erupting across various buildings. A brief clip of you and Pietro fighting side by side.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Wanda’s head fall at the sight on the television, and anger immediately began flickering in a small flame in your stomach at Ross for making her watch that.

“Ireland.”

Your eyes immediately snapped back over to the news footage playing in a horrifying montage across the screen.

Ireland had been where you were for your first mission. The one that you had frozen up on, where it took Clint to snap you out of your daze.

You had later learned that your mess up had cost many lives of innocent civilians, and that was something you had to live with to the day.

Clips of dead bodies littering the streets flashed across the monitor.

Painfully, you ripped your eyes away, unable to look at it any longer in fear of throwing up at what you saw.

“Okay. That’s enough.” Steve immediately sat up straighter when he noticed your pained look, his voice coming out as a demand to the Secretary.

He didn’t argue, clicking off the screen, as if he knew he would get that exact reaction out of all of you, “For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

A nearby aide shuffled over and handed him a thick document that he immediately passed to Wanda, who briefly glanced at it before sliding it over to Rhodey.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries . . . it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” He explained as if it were as simple as that.

Your ears were ringing. This was starting to become too much- everything about this ‘meeting’, and you were beginning to get to the point where you didn’t know if you could handle it.

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that.” Steve argued.

Almost as if he anticipated that, Ross didn’t miss a beat, “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?”

Your head snapped up at the sounds of their names and you met the Secretary’s eyes.

“If I misplaced a couple of thirty megaton nukes . . . you can bet there'd be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.” He finally tore his eyes away from you to address the rest of the team.

“So, there are contingencies.” It wasn’t a question, Rhodey already knew the answer.

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” He glanced at you once more, “Talk it over.”

Just as he was about to turn to leave, Natasha’s voice drew him to a halt, “And if we come to a decision you don't like?”

It was silent as you all waited for him to answer, and he gave her a plain smile, “Then you retire.”

It wasn’t too long later that you were all sitting around one of the many living rooms in the compound, you on one of the couches with your head in your hands as Steve read and reread the Accords from beside you.

Sam and Rhodey were arguing back and forth about what to do, while everyone else silently mulled it over to themselves.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.” Rhodes pointed out, as if that would be the deciding factor in everything.

The other man shot back his retort that only lead to more bickering that you couldn’t be bothered to even try to listen to, some other teammates of yours getting roped into it as well.

This was not good. Your team- your family- were going in circles as they argued with each other about the fate of the Avengers. This could very well be the day that they ended, because if the Accords weren’t what teared you apart, it would be the endless disagreements that were coming with this whole thing.

You sat back and watched as your family was slowly pulled apart by the seams.

“Tony, you chose to do that- if we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

You had no idea who you agreed with, which side you were taking- it was all too much at the moment for you to properly think it out- but you had to admit that Steve did have a good point.

“If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty.” Tony’s voice had almost shifted to one that resembled begging. He didn’t want you all to split up over this anymore than you did.

“You’re saying they’ll come for me.” Wanda whispered, her arms moving to wrap around her stomach.

“We would protect you.” Vision automatically assured her.

“Both of you.” Tony added, locking eyes with you as he said it.

You bit down on your bottom lip and cast your eyes downwards.

Even though you didn’t know your own viewpoint on the matter, you didn’t understand why your team couldn’t pull together- now more than ever- to come to an agreement on something. At least to ensure that you would all stay together.

The bickering just kept going and you couldn’t take it anymore, you pushed yourself off the couch and hurried out of the room, not paying any mind to how the team quieted behind you and sadly watched you go.

Everybody wants to rule the world

“So,” Tony strolled over, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the railing before bumping his shoulder against yours playfully, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You were out on a balcony, standing there and overlooking the compound grounds as you thought, “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” He assured you, “You’re just a kid, you don’t have to know what to do about all of this.”

You bit down on your bottom lip gently, “I hate it when you all fight.”

Tony sighed, shoulders sagging and head dropping a little bit, “I know, I hate it too.” His voice was quieter than before

“Why can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing?” You asked softly, eyes trained somewhere in the distance, “Why can’t we just go back to the way things used to be? Without the government dictating what we do.”

The man’s head turned to you in surprise, “You don’t mean that.”

You shook your head, “No, I do.” You were finally getting a sense of what you thought about everything going on.

“Listen, I know you’re upset about everything, but you don’t have to-“

“Why would we let them control us?” You turned to face him as well, “That’s not how we’ve always done things, why would we change now? We’ve been fine on our own.”

“I know you think that,” He tried again, eyes and tone growing slightly desperate, “But signing these Accords and letting the government have a little bit of control over us will be what keeps us together. Not signing them will tear us apart.”

Again, you shook your head stubbornly, “No, the UN will just tear us apart. Things will change. I’m not ready for things to change.”

“You need to sign these Accords, n/n,” It almost sounded like Tony was begging at this point, “I promise, once you do that we can figure out everything else.”

You looked at him sadly, “I’m not ready for them to control us, Tony. I’m not ready for things to change.”

Before he could even open his mouth again, you turned on your heel and went back inside, searching for Steve to let him know of your decision.

Tony dropped his head into his hands from behind you.

There's a room where the light won't find you

Your eyes swept back and forth, going over the plan again and again, letting Steve’s previous words ring out in your head.

Though you tried to keep your face neutral, you knew that your nerves were portrayed through your expression, showing everyone in the airport how scared you really were.

As you looked over the faces of those who signed the Accords, you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame them- as much as you tried.

At the end of the day, they were just doing what they thought was right, just like you were. Except their methods didn’t involve going back to the way things used to be, theirs included being controlled by people who had no idea what being an Avenger was really like- what it took.

Before you knew it, both sides began charging at one another, forcing you to do the same.

You didn’t like this, the thought of fighting against your loved ones made you sick to your stomach, so you had come up with a plan beforehand. All you would do was protect those around you by channeling your powers to generate force fields around them and come to their aid when necessary.

Before the fight had even begun, you relayed this to Steve, who had nodded in understanding.

So that’s what you did.

When T’Challa automatically sprang forward to lunge at Bucky, you threw a shield around the man, sending the king flying backwards upon impact.

You cringed a little, “Sorry, your majesty!” You called.

That wasn’t exactly how you pictured your first interaction with the king of Wakanda going.

You ran around, helping others when they needed it before moving on, making sure you were constantly rotating to be there at any given moment for anyone.

Your steps faltered though, when Tony flew down in his suit and touched the ground only a few yards away.

“What are you doing, kid?” He asked sadly, “Please get out of here, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I need to help them, Tony. I’m not going to leave them behind.”

“Listen-“ He lifted his hand subconsciously as he spoke to you, not meaning anything by it, but he froze when you flinched at the gesture and threw your hands up to create a force field all around yourself.

You realized what you had done too late, and you swallowed thickly as a deadly silence settled between the two of you, both completely tuning out the sounds of chaos from the battle going on around you.

“Did you-“ His words came out slightly stuttered, “You didn’t think that- that I was going to shoot you, did you?”

You didn’t. You really didn’t. But that didn’t explain why your body had worked by itself to try and naturally protect you. As if you had been in any danger in the first place.

Before you could even try and open your mouth to speak, Visions voice cut you off, calling out from a far, “Mr. Stark!”

Steve and Bucky were making their way to the hanger that held the quinjet, the blond man desperately trying to get your attention to flag you down and get you on the plane with them.

You realized though in that moment that getting over there wasn’t in the cards for you, but you could distract Tony so the duo could make their escape.

Subtly, you shook your head, and you watched Steve’s face drop in slight horror, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that as Bucky gently took his best friend by the shoulder to continue to steer him out of there.

Taking Tony’s distracted form to your advantage, you threw a shield around him just in time to stop him from moving to go after them, keeping him stuck in place.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” You spoke, “But I can’t let you do that.”

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

“Y/n.” Your head snapped up and you sprang to your feet, hand already moving to the gun you had concealed under the table.

You froze in place though, standing in the middle of your kitchen, staring at two of the people you quite honestly didn’t know if you would ever see again.

After what happened in Germany, Cap had freed you and the others from prison, thereby forcing every one of you to go into hiding for what you had done. He had begged you to come with him- all of them begged for you to go with at least one of them- if only for the fact that they could look after you. You were still just a kid.

But after everything that had gone down between the team- not that it could even be called that anymore- you had been too full of pain and betrayal to even handle being around any of them at the moment. So, you refused assistance from any of them and slipped away the first chance you got. You couldn't stay with them, not then at least, you had to go out on your own. You had to take time to process everything that had happened.

You had somehow ended up in a small town in Ireland- maybe it was to stay in touch with a small part of who you used to be when you had still been an Avenger- but you were old enough at that point to get a job and buy your own apartment. It was by no means a luxurious life, not like the life you had been living in the tower or the compound, but it was peaceful and quiet. Exactly what you needed to lay low and sort yourself out.

But now, you stood face to face with Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff and you didn’t know what to do. You could physically feel your heart contracting in your chest and you found it hard to breathe.

Limply, your hand fell away from your gun and the three of you just stared at each other in silence.

Steve cleared his throat, “Something big’s about to go down. In Wakanda.” It was like he wanted to say something else, but forced himself to get those words out.

“Why come to me?” Your voice was scratchy, the question pained you to speak aloud.

They both had sad looks on their faces, “We need you.” Nat spoke softly.

You shook your head back and forth, “You don’t need me.”

You knew it. They knew it.

“Of course we do.” Steve insisted, “You’re a vital part of the team.”

An incredulous laugh left your lips, you couldn’t help it, “Team? What team?” Your eyes hardened, “There hasn’t been any team in a long time.”

“N/n, I know you’re hurt-“ Rogers moved as if to come closer to you.

You took a stumbling step back, an expression full of pain overcoming your face. You had thought you moved past this, with all the time you had, you really did, but seeing them again, it opened up new wounds you had thought long since closed.

“Don’t.” You spoke firmly, doing everything in your power to keep your voice from wavering.

He stilled, releasing a small sigh through his nose.

“There’s a threat,” He spoke from afar, “Far greater than anything any of us have ever faced. And he’s coming here. We need your help to stop him.”

“What kind of threat?” As hurt as you were, you still felt as if it was your responsibility to protect the world, and you couldn’t just back away after hearing that it was in danger.

“His name is Thanos.” Nat informed you, hesitantly taking a small step forward, continuing when you didn’t flinch away, “A lot of us are going to Wakanda to hold him off, he’s trying to get to the mind stone.”

“Vision?”

True, you had both been on opposite sides of the fight in Germany, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still care about him.

The nod of confirmation you received from both of them was enough to make you suck in a breath.

“He’s dangerous, we can’t let him get that stone.” Steve spoke.

Finally, you locked eyes with the blond man, taking a moment before speaking again, “Fine, I’m in.”

You would be fighting with the Avengers again. Side by side with your family, having each other's backs and looking out for one another. Just like the way things used to be. The way things should be.

Nat smiled softly, taking the final step to reach you before lifting her hand and gently cupping your cheek, “You’ve grown up so much.”

Subconsciously, you leaned into her touch before bringing your arms gently around her for a long overdue hug.

After her, you moved to hug Steve too, biting down on your bottom lip to try and stop the incoming tears, “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassured you softly, knowing exactly what you were apologizing for, “You left because it was the right thing for you to do.”

They ushered you into the Quinjet they brought to get you shortly after, and you finally piped up again once you set a course for Wakanda, “How did you find me, anyway?”

Natasha briefly looked over her shoulder at you, “We tracked you down shortly after you left, but knew that we needed to give you your space for as long as we could.”

You swallowed, “Oh,”

“Tony knew where you were too,” She explained, “He kept tabs on you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “He knew where I was but he didn’t have me arrested again?”

Steve looked at you, “You know he never wanted to do that to you in the first place.

You nodded slightly, you did know.

Slight embarrassment took over you though, you thought you had been good at covering your tracks, but apparently not against an assassin and billionaire.

After a while, the quinjet landed and the three of you exited. You sucked in a sharp breath when you saw Wanda, Bruce, Vision, T’Challa, and Bucky all standing near the ship, smiling welcomingly at you.

Though you didn’t know Bucky or T’Challa that well, you gave the former a small hug in greeting and the former a polite wave before moving to tightly hug Wanda, Bruce, and Vision.

“It’s good to see you guys,” You said after pulling away.

Wanda smiled, “It’s good to see you too, n/n.”

“I hate to interrupt,” The king of Wakanda did in fact sound very guilty, “But we must be going.”

“Y/n, I want you to stay here with Wanda and Vision, help protect the stone.” Steve addressed you, and you nodded in affirmation.

So there you stood, watching with a worried expression from the windows as your team along with hundreds of Wakandan soldiers marched into battle.

You cast a glance at Wanda after a few moments, “I can’t just stand by and watch.” You whispered.

She smiled, nodding and reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, as if she had been expecting you to say that, “I know,” She admitted before nodding her head out the window, “Go. We’ll be fine.”

After one last bit of hesitation, you spun on your heel and took off running outside, joining in on the fight that had already begun. Your first fight back as an Avenger.

When they do I'll be right behind you

Not once, but twice your team had been ripped apart. Once by their own undoing and once from the hands of Thanos. You didn’t know which hurt more.

What had happened? What had made the universe decide to leave you alive and well while half of the Avengers- half of the universe- got snapped to mere dust and blown out of existence?

How cruel could the world be that you were forced to sit there, screaming and crying until your throat was raw as you watched your family be teared away from you while you sat back, completely unharmed?

You should never have left Wanda in the first place, you should have stayed like Steve had specially told you to to protect the stone. Everything might have turned out differently if you had.

You didn’t know how long you had been there, collapsed in a heap on the ground in the spot right next to where Wanda had gotten snapped away and Vision's dead body lay off to the side, until Natasha and Steve had broken through the trees, eyes frantically searching every which way.

When her gaze landed on you, the woman let out a breath of relief and rushed to your side, falling to her knees and scooping you up into her arms, holding you tightly against her.

So you sat there, hands desperately grasping at her clothing and cried into her chest while she rubbed your back up and down, tears of her own swimming in her eyes.

“I know, I know.” She spoke gently, rocking you both back and forth.

Steve dropped onto his knees beside the two of you, a look of pure exhaustion and despair on his face as his tearful, devastatingly blue eyes locked with your own orbs.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered as if it was his fault. A million different apologies laying behind his eyes.

I’m sorry for dragging you back into this. I’m sorry that we lost. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry-

You threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck and continuing your crying as he hugged you back tightly.

You had lost.

So glad we've almost made it

“It’s my fault.”

It had been five years since that day in Wakanda. Since half the universe had been erased from existence.

Only twenty days after the battle, a woman named Carol had showed up with a ship that held none other than Tony Stark, a man you thought to have been snapped away with everyone else.

You, along with Nat, had lived in the compound, desperately trying to keep together a world that was no longer there.

It was almost always quiet, nothing to report, nothing going on in the world. Most of your days consisted of sitting around with Nat, waiting for something that might never happen.

The woman looked up from her breakfast at you in surprise, “What do you mean?” She asked.

You sighed, this was the first time you were going to open up to her about the guilt that had been eating away at you about what had happened.

“I left Wanda and Vision,” You whispered, eyes clouding over with sadness. You learned long ago that you had almost no tears left in your body to cry. “Even after Steve specifically told me to stay and protect the stone, I left them and Thanos got to them.”

Nat looked startled, never had she thought you were blaming yourself in that way. Sure, everyone that hadn’t been blipped felt some form of responsibility for what happened, but after all this time, how could she not have noticed just how much of the burden you took upon yourself?

“That wasn’t your fault,” She spoke immediately, “Nothing about that was your fault. Thanos would have gotten what he wanted, whether you were there or not.”

You quieted after that, neither of you bringing the conversation up again, allowing the day to pass without mention of it again.

Pretty soon though, Steve showed up, Scott following shortly after- a man who had supposedly been blipped away.

The three of you were quick to usher him in and demand that he explained himself, only to come to the realization that for the first time in five years, a tiny flicker of hope was set off within you. For the first time in five years, there may be a chance to set everything right. To bring everyone back.

Only one thing was left to do, you all had to pay a visit to Tony and convince him to go along with the plan.

Almost right after getting back, Tony had slipped away, and you let him, figuring he just needed a little time, but you hadn’t seen him a single time in these five years. The only form of communication going between the two of you was the occasional text to make sure the other was doing alright.

You took a deep breath, stepping out of the car and gently closing the door behind you, taking in the sight of Tony’s house, which- even in the middle of nowhere- was beautiful.

The man stopped walking on his porch when he caught sight of the group of you, and the two of you briefly made eye contact before you watched him break it and heave out a sigh.

You all walked up to him, and he pulled you in for a hug, planting a quick kiss on the side of your head before turning to address everyone else, “What is it?” He cut right to the chase.

So Scott began explaining it to him- everything you had been told earlier.

“In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home.” Tony sighed, running a hand down his face.

“I did.” Scott argued.

“No, you accidentally survived.” Tony immediately shot back, “It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a... What do you call it?”

“A time heist?” You offered- no doubt- unhelpfully.

Nat looked down to hide her smirk at your words.

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before? Oh, because it's laughable? Because it's a pipedream?” Tony’s sarcastic words had a bite to them.

Your amusement, along with Natasha’s, immediately dropped and you averted your eyes to the ground.

“The stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Scott never gave up, you would give him that.

“We can snap our own fingers.” Nat continued.

“We can bring everyone back.” You whispered, eyes lifting to meet Tony’s, and you saw the briefest flicker of hesitation for the first time since arriving.

Then, all at once, the hesitation was gone and the incredulousness was back, “Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?”

“I don't believe we would.” Steve sounded like he truly believed his words, and that made you feel better.

You began tuning the rest out after that, when they still kept bickering back and forth. It was bringing back too many memories of the Accords.

“Tony,” Steve spoke softly, “I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch.” He seemed genuinely sad.

Everyone turned to leave, but Tony called to you, making you pause, “N/n, wait up.”

You exchanged one glance with Nat before pulling yourself to a halt and letting the others part way and you turned to Tony.

“I really am sorry,” He said, “I just can’t risk it.”

You smiled a soft, understanding smile, and reached over to squeeze his hand, “I know, Tony, it’s alright.”

He shook his head, averting his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to bring them back- of course I do. I would do anything to be with them again, but I refuse to let my family become in danger because of it.”

“Tony,” He turned his gaze back to you, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll figure out another way.”

He bit down on his bottom lip before slowly nodding his head and letting his hand drop from yours, “Alright.”

With one last smile, you turned yet again to go, but he stopped you again.

“N/n?” You turned your head, “You’re always welcome here- always.”

So sad they had to fade it

You couldn’t believe it, you could hardly breathe as your head whipped around in shock.

For the first time in five years, tears of happiness and relief instead of despair and regret filled your eyes as all around you, Wakandan soldiers, Avengers- your family- that had all been snapped away filed out of portals every which way, joining you, Steve, Thor, and Tony to fight against Thanos and his army.

You could have sobbed in relief when your eyes landed on Wanda, Bucky, T’Challa, Stephen, Sam, and so many more of the ones you lost came to stand by your side, all looking exactly as they did the day they were torn away.

You didn’t even get to reunite with any of them though, as everyone began charging forward and beginning the fight.

More than anything, you wished that Nat was still there with you, that she hadn’t sacrificed herself for that damned stone and she could see that she hadn’t given up hope for nothing. That what she had died for was worth it- it was all worth it. Everyone was back and it was all because of her, because of her sacrifice.

Forcing those thoughts out of your mind, you purposefully shifted your attention so you could focus solely on the fight at hand.

Immediately, you placed a force field around yourself as a Chitauri lunged at you, stumbling slightly at the sheer force it used as it continued to claw at you, before you quickly thrust your hands out, sending it flying backwards into some other nearby aliens. They all went tumbling to the ground upon impact.

That continued, Chitauri after Chitauri, before another one coming at you was swiftly thrown to the side by a familiar red wisp of light. The same kind you never knew if you were going to see again.

Your head quickly whipped to the side where Wanda stood, eyes glowing red and hand outstretched.

Choking back on a sob, you dropped all your defenses and flew across the couple of yards separating you and jumped into her arms, pulling yourself tightly against her.

“Wands…” You cried, hugging her as tightly as you could despite the ongoing battle around the two of you.

“Hi,” She breathed out, hugging you with the same amount of desperation that you held her with and you quickly realized why.

For you, it had been five years. For her, it had been just over five minutes. Five minutes since she was forced to kill Vision, the man she loved, and lost against Thanos.

When you pulled away, you caught T'Challa's eye, who was only a short distance away, and exchanged a nod of greeting with him.

“We’ll catch up later,” She moved to cup your cheek and look you in the eyes before placing a gentle kiss against your forehead, “Be careful.”

You smiled, leaning into her touch, “You too.”

Quickly, you spun on your heel and rushed off, taking down soldiers left and right.

“My, my, that’s an interesting talent.”

For a brief second, you froze before turning to face Thanos, the person responsible for every piece of pain you had felt in the last five years.

His unnerving eyes were trained solely on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of rage hit you and you let out a scream, charging at the man with outstretched arms, immediately encompassing him in an unbreakable force field.

Thanos’s eyes flickered with surprise and he swung his sword out to your shield, only for it to bounce back and narrowly missing his arm.

Slowly, you moved your hands together, making the shield shrink around his large frame in the process, forcing him to condense his body to try and fit the space growing increasingly smaller and smaller. It would only be a matter of seconds before it crushed him entirely.

You made the fatal mistake of being too distracted with extracting your revenge that you hadn’t noticed the Chitauri that was creeping behind you until it tackled you to the ground.

A small scream escaped your lips as you went crashing against the hard floor and Thanos smirked as your concentration was dropped, bringing your shields down with it. He rose to his full height and stalked over to you, picking you up by the neck, effectively cutting off your airway.

You began gasping for breath immediately, trying to thrash around in his hold, trying to do anything to make him drop you as your feet barely even touched the ground.

Dots began to dance around your vision and you could tell that it was all about to go black in less than a second, before the hand swiftly dropped you, and you fell into a heap on the ground, coughing violently.

“Lady Y/n!” Thor immediately sank to your side on the ground, “Are you alright?”

Steve and Tony, who- along with Thor- had knocked Thanos off of you, continued to go after him, hitting him with blast after hit in hopes of making any sort of damage.

With one last cough, you took a gasping breath and shakily looked up at Thor, “I’m alright.” Your voice was scratchy and you moved to stand up.

The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he gently held you down, “You are in no state to go on with this fight.”

Your eyes widened, “But, Thor-“

You cut yourself off as you caught sight of something over his shoulder, and you paled further than you thought as possible, becoming nauseated.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos’s voice traveled and he snapped his fingers.

You tensed, eyes immediately whipping around as you looked for any sign of yourself or others to be dusted.

But nothing happened, and your gaze slowly dragged over to where Tony was, collapsed to his knees on the ground, and a scream left your lips at what you saw.

His was in physical pain as energy surged through him from all six of the infinity stones sitting on his armor, and he briefly made eye contact with you.

It’s okay, is what his eyes so desperately tried to relay to you.

Tony Stark turned back to Thanos with a hard look, “And I… an Iron Man.”

He snapped.

Everybody wants to rule the world

Pepper walked by all of you with a sad smile, tightly grasping onto Morgan’s hand as they went by.

You were frozen, stuck with a stiff form as you watched the woman placed a wreath memorial to Tony in the lake. It was a small tribute to the man, it had his first arc reactor placed in it.

Everyone stood around you, tears of their own laying unshed in their eyes, only for a few of them to drop when Pepper took in a sharp breath and stepped back.

You were yet to move, even after everyone had slowly disbanded and began muttering amongst themselves, you just stared at the wreath as it moved slowly from side to side in the rippling waves.

All at once you had lost Tony and Natasha. The first two people to introduce you to your new life as an avenger. You lost two family members at the same time and you were so numb inside that you could hardly feel much of anything.

The numbness had come after the searing pain that had taken place in your chest at their loss, now nothing but a dull sting that you knew was bound to come back in full swing at any moment.

“Hey, kid.” Clint greeted gently, coming over to stand beside you.

You couldn’t even manage a hum of acknowledgment.

Wanda moved up to your other side, extanching a glance with Hawkeye as she did so. But you paid no mind to their concerned looks.

Wordlessly, the woman wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you to your chest, perhaps trying to comfort and receive that same comfort.

It dawned on you suddenly, something you had never thought about before that moment.

After everything you had gone through all these years, you were nowhere close to being the same girl that had first wandered into Avengers Tower in awe.

You were older, wiser. You were stronger, more broken.

For so long, you had been scared of change, of everything and everyone you had loved moving on from the times that you were a happy family, fighting side by side. All while you were completely unaware that that life was almost nonexistent. It had gone on for a little while, then disappeared through your fingers while you so desperately kept trying to cling onto it. Unaware that all you were holding onto was empty air.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami @mythixmagic @ladyagagaslefttoe @etanordoesbullsh1t @wolfmoonmusic @nutellani @hyunzrii @kiyomi-uchiha777

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm planning on publishing my written fiction online in both Portuguese (my native language) and in English (the other language I speak which might help to share the story with more people), but something is worrying me.

I watched a movie where the a main character (a writer) had a book that wasn't popular and another character "translated" into her language (what she actually did was rewrite it as an erotic novel) and the book was super loved there (the readers didn't know the book was supposed to be different)

Sometimes I see artists who allow fans to share translations of their comics, but I'm concerned on what could happen if someone asked for permission to translate. Do you think it's worth the risk of someone making my story popular with something that goes against my values, like supporting disregard to a human right or making it erotic when it was supposed to be family-friendly?

Worried About Fan Translations

I want to be clear that this advice is specific to fiction published online versus e-books or print books, which are a different matter entirely. First and foremost, if you post a story online, give permission to a fan to translate it, and then they rewrite it into something else, that is plagiarism and a copyright violation, and you have every right to ask them to take it down. If they refuse to cooperate, you can threaten them with a lawsuit, even if you don't really have the means to follow through. That could be enough to get them to take it down. If not you can report them to the platform for stealing your work. You can also let your fans know that this person has stolen your work and to please block them or refuse to engage with them.

If you post a story online and are approached by a fan who asks to translate it into their native language, there are some things you can do to potentially protect yourself:

1 - Do not give them permission to post the translation on their own account. Thank them for their offer and let them know you're happy to let them translate the story, but they will need to e-mail it to you so you can have it vetted and post it on your own account with credit. Be clear that you do not give them permission to post a translation on their own account. That way, not only does it dissuade people who are only interested in plagiarism or benefiting off your hard work, it also means you keep full control of your story and its translations.

2 - Do your best to vet the translation. You can try to find a beta reader who is fluent in that language who can read it and make sure it's a good translation, though you'll likely have to pay them, which is worth it to make sure the translation is accurate. Or you could copy chunks of the story into Google Translate, which isn't a great translation service, but at least you'll see right away if the person has added erotica or written anything that's drastically different.

3 - Do your best to vet the translator. Another thing you can do is try to vet the translator. Ask them if they've ever translated a story before, and if so, ask them for examples. Look at their account and see if they have posted other translations or have posted links to translations. Investigate the authors of the stories they translated and see if there are any complaints. Read through the comments of the original story and the translation (you may again have to use Google Translate if it's a language you're not familiar with... not perfect, but just fine for this application...) are similar. If a lot of comments on the translation mention elements that aren't mentioned in the source story comments, that's a potential red flag.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An interoperability rule for your money

This is the final weekend to back the Kickstarter campaign for the audiobook of my next novel, The Lost Cause. These kickstarters are how I pay my bills, which lets me publish my free essays nearly every day. If you enjoy my work, please consider backing!

"If you don't like it, why don't you take your business elsewhere?" It's the motto of the corporate apologist, someone so Hayek-pilled that they see every purchase as a ballot cast in the only election that matters – the one where you vote with your wallet.

Voting with your wallet is a pretty undignified way to go through life. For one thing, the people with the thickest wallets get the most votes, and for another, no matter who you vote for in that election, the Monopoly Party always wins, because that's the part of the thick-wallet set.

Contrary to the just-so fantasies of Milton-Friedman-poisoned bootlickers, there are plenty of reasons that one might stick with a business that one dislikes – even one that actively harms you.

The biggest reason for staying with a bad company is if they've figured out a way to punish you for leaving. Businesses are keenly attuned to ways to impose switching costs on disloyal customers. "Switching costs" are all the things you have to give up when you take your business elsewhere.

Businesses love high switching costs – think of your gym forcing you to pay to cancel your subscription or Apple turning off your groupchat checkmark when you switch to Android. The more it costs you to move to a rival vendor, the worse your existing vendor can treat you without worrying about losing your business.

Capitalists genuinely hate capitalism. As the FBI informant Peter Thiel says, "competition is for losers." The ideal 21st century "market" is something like Amazon, a platform that gets 45-51 cents out of every dollar earned by its sellers. Sure, those sellers all compete with one another, but no matter who wins, Amazon gets a cut:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Think of how Facebook keeps users glued to its platform by making the price of leaving cutting of contact with your friends, family, communities and customers. Facebook tells its customers – advertisers – that people who hate the platform stick around because Facebook is so good at manipulating its users (this is a good sales pitch for a company that sells ads!). But there's a far simpler explanation for peoples' continued willingness to let Mark Zuckerberg spy on them: they hate Zuck, but they love their friends, so they stay:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

One of the most important ways that regulators can help the public is by reducing switching costs. The easier it is for you to leave a company, the more likely it is they'll treat you well, and if they don't, you can walk away from them. That's just what the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau wants to do with its new Personal Financial Data Rights rule:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/cfpb-proposes-rule-to-jumpstart-competition-and-accelerate-shift-to-open-banking/

The new rule is aimed at banks, some of the rottenest businesses around. Remember when Wells Fargo ripped off millions of its customers by ordering its tellers to open fake accounts in their name, firing and blacklisting tellers who refused to break the law?

https://www.npr.org/sections/money/2016/10/07/497084491/episode-728-the-wells-fargo-hustle

While there are alternatives to banks – local credit unions are great – a lot of us end up with a bank by default and then struggle to switch, even though the banks give us progressively worse service, collectively rip us off for billions in junk fees, and even defraud us. But because the banks keep our data locked up, it can be hard to shop for better alternatives. And if we do go elsewhere, we're stuck with hours of tedious clerical work to replicate all our account data, payees, digital wallets, etc.

That's where the new CFPB order comes in: the Bureau will force banks to "share data at the person’s direction with other companies offering better products." So if you tell your bank to give your data to a competitor – or a comparison shopping site – it will have to do so…or else.

Banks often claim that they block account migration and comparison shopping sites because they want to protect their customers from ripoff artists. There are certainly plenty of ripoff artists (notwithstanding that some of them run banks). But banks have an irreconcilable conflict of interest here: they might want to stop (other) con-artists from robbing you, but they also want to make leaving as painful as possible.

Instead of letting shareholder-accountable bank execs in back rooms decide what the people you share your financial data are allowed to do with it, the CFPB is shouldering that responsibility, shifting those deliberations to the public activities of a democratically accountable agency. Under the new rule, the businesses you connect to your account data will be "prohibited from misusing or wrongfully monetizing the sensitive personal financial data."

This is an approach that my EFF colleague Bennett Cyphers and I first laid our in our 2021 paper, "Privacy Without Monopoly," where we describe how and why we should shift determinations about who is and isn't allowed to get your data from giant, monopolistic tech companies to democratic institutions, based on privacy law, not corporate whim:

https://www.eff.org/wp/interoperability-and-privacy

The new CFPB rule is aimed squarely at reducing switching costs. As CFPB Director Rohit Chopra says, "Today, we are proposing a rule to give consumers the power to walk away from bad service and choose the financial institutions that offer the best products and prices."

The rule bans banks from charging their customers junk fees to access their data, and bans businesses you give that data to from "collecting, using, or retaining data to advance their own commercial interests through actions like targeted or behavioral advertising." It also guarantees you the unrestricted right to revoke access to your data.

The rule is intended to replace the current state-of-the-art for data sharing, which is giving your banking password to third parties who go and scrape that data on your behalf. This is a tactic that comparison sites and financial dashboards have used since 2006, when Mint pioneered it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/12/mint-late-stage-adversarial-interoperability-demonstrates-what-we-had-and-what-we

A lot's happened since 2006. It's past time for American bank customers to have the right to access and share their data, so they can leave rotten banks and go to better ones.

The new rule is made possible by Section 1033 of the Consumer Financial Protection Act, which was passed in 2010. Chopra is one of the many Biden administrative appointees who have acquainted themselves with all the powers they already have, and then used those powers to help the American people:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

It's pretty wild that the first digital interoperability mandate is going to come from the CFPB, but it's also really cool. As Tim Wu demonstrated in 2021 when he wrote Biden's Executive Order on Promoting Competition in the American Economy, the administrative agencies have sweeping, grossly underutilized powers that can make a huge difference to everyday Americans' lives:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

Image: Steve Morgan (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:U.S._National_Bank_Building_-_Portland,_Oregon.jpg

Stefan Kühn (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Abrissbirne.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

 - 

Rhys A. (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/rhysasplundh/5201859761/in/photostream/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[lulu-tutu]

Rise tmnt request; platonic hc of mom figure female reader who's taking care of her teenage turtle kids; how she's enjoying cooking with mikey and attend his dr. Feelings sessions, how she sew for raph many dolls and teddy bears with different colors (she hate ghost bear for hurting her baby), how she used to put donnie and leo in get together shirts whenever they start chaos.

But her favorite activity; gathering embarrassing pictures, videos of the turtles's childhood and show it to everyone, like if she ever were kidnapped by big mama they would spend a lovely time talking about the turtles when they were kids (the mad dogs try to save their mom faster before their secrets get exposed😂)

Mother Dearest ⭐️ Rise!Turtles HCs

A/N: *throws unlimited affection at you* How in the world did you manage to give me so many heart clenching, tooth aching, fluff filled requests?? Please take my hand in platonic marriage, we do not deserve you. I almost enjoy these parental requests as much as I enjoy angst. Almost.

Pairing(s): Mother Figure!Reader & Turtles

Warning(s): FLUFF, may make you cry from wholesomeness

Proof read :)

The boys are, well, your boys. You don't make the rules. The turtles are your babies.

Do you spoil them? Yes. Will you ever stop spoiling them? Of course not.

You do everything in your power to keep your kids happy, no matter the cost, even if it's the tiniest of things that make their faces light up like fireworks.

Mikey, oh sweet baby angel, you could never say no to him, why would you even consider that in the first place?

You and him make the most mouth watering dishes the universe has ever seen, and you always give the credit to Mikey despite how he tries to wave it off and reflect it back towards you.

When the two of you are in the kitchen, it's like watching art come to life. When one of the other boys enter the room, they sometimes have to stop and gaze in amazement at the two of you, hypnotised by the way you both work so effortlessly around each other.

You always try and give Mikey little tips to push his dishes towards perfection, and he always does the same to you when you find yourself making something you haven't even heard of before.

You and Mikey are the dream team when it comes to the kitchen, no one could even compare.

Watching his face turn darker from your praises as you all dig into his meals, it just makes you so giddy to see him so happy.

When it comes around to it, you definitely attend his Dr Feelings sessions! You're there to listen and take in whatever your youngest son has to offer, your face serious the whole time he reads through his clipboard or points towards the projectors screen.

Raph was also one of the most spoilt of the four, though you tried to make sure to evenly give the others gifts.

After many nights of learning how to sew and stitch (while getting many pricks and pokes at the same time) you had learnt how to craft the most adorable plushies, dolls and teddy bears Raph had ever seen.

Or maybe it was the thought behind them that made him love them more than any other plushies he had. He would just guess it was both.

The first time you had rushed into the lair with a plastic bag swinging at your side, Raph had thrown you so many worried questions. "What happened? What's in the bag? Did Donnie make you steal from the museum again-?"

Like I said, you'd do anything to make your boys happy.

When you tore open the bag to show him your hard work, he gasped so loudly, tiny stars in his eyes.

He couldn't pick a favourite! Of course the red bear was one of them, with it having a red bandana around its neck and tiny roses dotted around its body, the blue one was also adorable-oh, the yellow one too- a pink one?

The more he looked around in the bag, the more colours he saw.

And then he caught a glance at your bandaid covered hands, which instantly activated his own 'mother bear' instincts. heh.

"You didn't have to make me anything, you hurt yourself doin' it!" "Raph, sweetie, I'm fine! The look on your face was enough to heal any injury."

He melts, which makes you melt.

You helped him organise his room, placing the plushies on his bed, making sure each one got enough love and care. You didn't want any of them feeling left out!

And oh, don't even get started on Ghost Bear. You hear one mention of him and you're shaking your head, biting your tongue from cursing him out for even thinking of hurting your baby boy.

"That guy has no right being idolised by the great Raphael! If I ever get my hands on that no good-"

Mikey has to drag you away after that, hand covering your mouth to prevent some not very nice words from slipping out.

You knew how much Donnie needed to hear any sort of praises from a parental figure, and you were there to give it and more. He was desperate, and you didn't blame him.

You spend a lot of your free time in his lab, even when he has his music blaring loudly. You got use to it after so long.

He doesn't say it, but he really enjoys your presence. You two don't have to speak, all he needs to know is that you're there for him while he tinkers away.

He shows you something new and most likely dangerous?

"Holy cow, that's amazing! You're amazing! How did you even make that?"

Cue him flapping his hands around wildly before diving into a deep explanation about it that you don't understand at all, but you nod along and smile as he talks away.

You also offer to help collect materials with him! Bonding! He never turns you down, even when he's in a bad mood thanks to Leo's pestering.

You let him get his frustration out to you, happy to listen to him rant and just be that shoulder for him. If he wants you to give him advice or feedback, you will. But most of the time you let him just get everything out in the air.

Talking about Leo, hoo boy.

Chaos. Always chaos.

There's rarely a time to relax around that boy, he is such a handful.

"Leo, leave Donnie alone before he pulls out a flamethrower or something."

"Leo! How can you make the most fanciest looking sandwiches I've ever seen, but manage to burn toast? And why is the toaster on fire?!"

"Did you take Raph's shark bear? I'm going to count to three and it better be back on his bed before I stop counting. One- Good. That's what I thought. I'll make you one too, just ask next time."

When you do get the rare moments of peace, it's blissful and strange at the same time.

Sitting down reading together, whether it's him reading a comic and you a novel. Playing video games with him teaching you some neat and secret tricks, or him even showing you around the Hidden City.

You meeting Hueso was the worst thing to ever happen to Leo. Now he has to deal with the teasing of not only one parental figure, but two? At the same time? He has many regrets. At least you two end up getting along well.

When Leo and Donnie decide to have their daily argument? Into the Get Together shirt they go!

"Wha- No! I demand that I be set free! Being close to this moron is a fate worse than death!"

GASP! "How could you say that, dear brother? I was about to say the same thing!"

"You two continue like this and you'll stay together for a lot longer." "Yes, mom."

"Yes, mother."

When it eventually gets out to the world that you're very dear to the turtles, you weren't surprised that an enemy of theirs would decide to use you as bait.

Thankfully, Big Mama was pleasantly fun to be around. When you told her about your boys, she instantly released you from her webs and beckoned you to come closer.

When the boys come bursting through the doors, they instantly crumble to the floor in horror. They were too late.

"Oh, hey sweeties!" You wave towards their tearful faces, your phone out and facing you and Big Mama, a picture of the four when they were younger and taking a bath was currently on display. It was only one of the many you had shown the spider Yokai who giggles at the cuteness.

"We're too late! We've failed!" Mikey sobs on the floor, clutching his face out of pure embarrassment.

"Please tell me you didn't show her-"

You cut off Donnie with a large grin, "The video of you guys pretending to be mermaids? I did."

"NO!"

This was not the first time those pictures and videos have been shown to someone, and it will not be the last. You make it your last mission to show off your boys to anyone and everyone.

[moanz111]

daisy. - kang yeosang

pairing ❀ poet! yeosang x gn! florist! reader

genre ❀ fluff, strangers to lovers, one shot

synopsis ❀ for you, flowers are the doors to people's souls. so when a mysterious man with a strange obsession with daisies comes into your flower shop on your opening day, you can't help but feel drawn to him.

w.c. ❀ 4.3 k

warnings ❀ kissing, drinking, so so much fluff, english is not my native language, so there can be mistakes

credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!

song recs ❀ daisy. - wave to earth; i'm in love - colde

The sweet aroma of flowers filled your senses as you spun around in your desk chair, taking in the atmosphere. You were sure there wasn’t a day in your life you’d felt happier. Maybe you had exaggerated a bit when you said that to your friend Wooyoung this morning during one of your usual face time sessions, but you knew there was a pinch of truth. 

Last week that would’ve been a distant silly childhood dream, but luck was on your side. You had tried your best, day and night, to make this a reality, and as usual - hard work had paid off. Younger you would’ve freaked out if they could see you now - sitting behind the counter of your own flower shop. 

You had always loved flowers - the way each type had its distinguishable scent, vibrant colours, unique forms, and, above all - their meaning. What had been just a quick exploration of your grandmother’s garden when you were ten turned out to be the reason for your obsession. 

“Yellow tulips are my favourite,” the older woman had said, swiping away the sweat formed under the brim of her broad straw hat as you walked around her most prized possession. You asked her curiously why, crouched down to take in their sweet fragrance. “Their meaning reminds me of you - like them, you’re my little sunshine and happiness.”

The memory filled your heart with nostalgia. You missed those times a lot, but you knew your grandmother was your number one supporter ever since you had told her about your wish to become a florist. She was the first to know about the shop too.

Flowers were fascinating to you, even though most people around you didn’t understand what was so special about them. All that didn’t matter to you. You finally had your space to cherish them as much as you wanted.

Today was the opening of your shop, and you couldn’t wait to welcome your first client. Unable to stay still, you got up and started picking up some flowers from the buckets around you - might as well fill your time doing something productive. Your first bouquet for the day was going to be special - a pink and yellow tulip one. 

As you arranged the freshly cut flowers on the counter, humming along to the song playing on the radio next to you, you couldn’t help but smile for probably the hundredth time since you woke up. Yellow tulips for cheerfulness, pink - for good wishes and friendships. Too busy repeating their meaning in your mind, you didn’t notice the ringing of the small bell, placed at the entrance, signaling that someone had entered the store. 

“Excuse me, are you open?” The raspy voice of the newcomer startled you, and you dropped your scissors on the floor, looking up. You were almost blinded. The man standing at the doorframe was, to say the least, breathtaking. His dark hair fell loosely around his face, and he seemed as if he was stifling a yawn. You took notice of his clothes too - he was wearing a white shirt, tugged in black, elegant pants, and you wondered what kind of job he had. 

“Oh, yes,” you said after clearing your throat with a quiet cough. “Please, welcome.”

“Are you busy? I can come later,” the man responded, pointing to the almost-finished bouquet before you as he approached you. Now up close, you were sure - he was gorgeous. Feeling flustered under his studying sleepy gaze, you bent down to pick up the fallen scissors. 

“Oh, no, I’m just passing the time,” you explained as you got up. You saw him holding a hardcover book, which he placed on the counter, smiling gently. The cover had you staring at it in awe - it depicted a small green field filled with daisies, but from your angle, you couldn’t read the title or the author’s name.

“Congratulations on opening. I’m your neighbour, so to speak,” he joked, stretching out his right hand. “Yeosang, nice to meet you.”

His hand was warm, and his grip was firm when you shook it, introducing yourself. “Let me guess…”

Yeosang raised his eyebrows with a grin, waiting for your next words. “You’re the bookstore’s owner.”

“How did you know?” You laughed at his genuine surprise and shrugged, “Guess I was born with psychic abilities.”

“I should’ve hidden the book,” Yeosang murmured, frowning. “Yes, but I’m also an author.”

He picked up the book from the counter and handed it to you. You noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. This time you saw the cover properly - Illusion.  A collection of poetry by Kang Yeosang. You ran your fingers through the title, admiring the beautifully illustrated daisies. Yeosang’s low chuckle made you look up at his face again, feeling a little embarrassed. “You like the flowers, don’t you?”

“Caught in the act,” you said, grinning when he threw his head back and laughed louder this time. “It’s beautiful. I’ll definitely read it.”

“I hope you like it. Do tell me which one is your favourite,” Yeosang answered, taking a business card from his pocket and handing it to you. There were even more daisies at the back of it. Sensing your amusement, he quickly explained, “Daisies are my favourite. Don’t judge me too much.”

“I never judge based on flower tastes,” you exclaimed, shaking your head.

“I feel like you just lied to me,” Yeosang’s mischievous tone made you smile again. “Take this as an official invitation to my book premiere tomorrow. The book isn’t out yet, so don’t give any spoilers.”

“Yeah,” you teased. “I’ll just post a few screenshots. Nothing more.”

“I might have to take it back, be careful,” he tilted his head to the right, his expression serious. Why was your heart fluttering? “Actually, I came to buy some flowers. So what would you say are the perfect flowers for the start of the week?”

His question caught you off guard, but your brain was already searching for the answer. Looking around the buckets filled with flowers behind him, you murmured more to yourself than speaking directly to him, “Daffodils for new beginnings, chrysanthemums for optimism and joy…”

“You sure know a lot about it, huh,” Yeosang’s deep voice shifted your focus back on him, and you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “Then I’d take seven daffodils, please.”

Trying to contain your excitement from having your first customer, you made a simple composition, adding a few branches of baby’s breath around the white daffodils and tying them with a simple yellow ribbon. While you were working, you felt Yeosang’s intense stare still on you, making your hands tremble a little. “Here you are.”

The man smiled warmly as you handed him the small bouquet. “Have a nice day, Y/N. I’ll be waiting for you.”

As you watched him turn and wave at you one last time from the door before he left, you let out a sigh. 

Yes, this was the best day of your life.

“Yeah, he was definitely flirting with you,” your friend Wooyoung shouted while you were taking your third shot for the night, both of you sitting on the soft carpet in your living room in your pajamas. You had invited him earlier to celebrate the shop’s opening, but you definitely hadn’t expected him to show up with a bag filled with soju bottles. 

After Yeosang had left, the day was relatively quiet and uneventful. A few customers came in and left satisfied, and your parents visited you too. Your sales weren’t that great, but at least you did what you loved the most. And now you regretted sharing your encounter with the handsome poet with your best friend.

“Stop making things weird. He was just being nice,” you answered, your mind already envisioning Yeosang’s face as if he was standing right in front of you again. You would’ve lied if you said you didn’t like him and hadn’t thought about him around ten times today. Maybe even more. You even read some of his poems while waiting for customers and were left speechless. He had a beautiful way with words for which you envied him a bit - to manage to convey your emotions through a few lines so well was something you found awfully attractive.

“You always think that men “are just being nice” to you,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, pouring you and him another drink. At this rate, you had no idea how you were getting up for work tomorrow, but it was expected - nights with him were always like this. 

You had known him all your life, with your moms being best friends since university. He was the person in your life who knew you the most and wanted the best for you. You were always grateful to have him close to you, but at the same time, you really wanted to smack him right now. 

“You’re being annoying again,” you groaned and pulled playfully his pierced ear, to which he whined. “Stop playing a matchmaker.”

“Stop being so single,” Wooyoung teased you and emptied his glass, pointing at yours to do the same. You gladly took that shot. If the conversation kept going this way, you had to be intoxicated as much as possible. “And my judgment is never wrong.”

“After my disaster of a date with Yunho, you still have the guts to think that?”

Wooyoung loved setting you up with his friends, and you, honestly, had no idea why. Every single date went the same way - they took you to a nice restaurant, you had dinner, talked for a bit, and then they escorted you to your apartment, hoping to be invited in. You didn’t do it. And they didn’t call again either. 

Wooyoung was always telling you you had too high standards, and you felt silly crushing on a man you saw for the first time today and knew nothing about.

“Hey, slight miscalculations happen. And I always pick out the hottest people for you,” Wooyoung stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “But seriously, step up your game. You can’t spend your whole life sniffing flowers.”

The pillow hit him right in the face, to your satisfaction.

You didn’t mind the flowers being your only company at all.

The following day was, to say the least, extremely nerve-wracking. Yeosang had come by to see you first thing in the morning and to remind you of his premiere. He didn’t stay for long, saying he still had a lot of things to prepare, and left after buying some roses of different colours to decorate his bookstore. 

Little did he know, you’d spent the night tossing and turning, wondering what to wear, what to say, and after Wooyoung’s comments about Yeosang you couldn’t even imagine looking him in the eyes. There was no way you could’ve forgotten about tonight.

So after changing out of your working apron and putting on the outfit you’d picked out as the best in your closet, you headed over to Yeosang’s bookstore - Little Miracles, holding the bouquet of tulips you’d made the day before. 

It suited his style, you concluded when you entered the small and cozy shop, filled with stacks of books everywhere. You took your time, walking around the shelves, occasionally picking up some books. You realised it was more of an antiquarian bookstore with many special editions of your favourite works, such you’d never seen before.  

“You like something?” His deep voice startled you and sent a wave of shivers down your spine. You felt your heart skip a beat when you turned to look at Yeosang, standing on your left for who knows how long before you noticed him. Just like yesterday, he was dressed in formal attire, 

but this time his hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, with a few strands falling in front of his eyes. You knew you were staring, probably even gawking at him, but he looked so nice. “I mean the books.”

Feeling heat burning your cheeks, you looked away from his amused eyes. “I think I might want to live here.”

Yeosang grinned at you and pointed to the book you were holding - Dracula by Bram Stocker. You had read it when you were younger, and you couldn’t deny that it was the beginning of your vampire obsession phase. “You can take it as a gift. I appreciate that you came.”

“Oh, it looks too expensive.” And truly you were a bit afraid to not damage or stain the black and red hardcover with an ominous castle drawn in the middle. You couldn’t possibly accept this as a gift even though you thought you’d cry if you took it.

“Please,” Yeosang said hopefully, pushing the book to your chest. “Then keep it safe for me?”

The spark in his eyes was enough to convince you. “I guess I have to take it then…”

“Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it,” the man teased you, leaning with one hand on the bookshelf next to him. “You’re always welcome here. Come whenever you want to.”

“Thank you,” you blushed at his words even more, maintaining eye contact with him becoming too difficult. “Oh, these are for you. Congratulations.”

You handed him the bouquet, feeling the need to turn his attention away from you. Otherwise, you had no idea how you were going to survive the night. Yeosang thanked you and shifted his position, so now he stood much closer to you than before. “I’d love us to talk more, but I have to start the meet and greet soon. How about I treat you to dinner later?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, barely processing what was happening. “Yes, of course. I’d love to.”

“Great,” he chuckled, checking his wristwatch with a sigh. You noticed his hands were slightly trembling. 

“Hey, don’t be nervous,” you tried comforting him. “You have talent, and your poems are amazing.”

“So you’ve read them,” Yeosang shot you a wide smile. “I’m not letting you go anywhere before you tell me about this later.”

Feeling too flustered to answer, you nodded and followed behind him as Yeosang led you to the centre of the bookstore where he had placed some chairs, most of them occupied. You took a seat at the back, trying to calm down your racing heart.

If a flower could describe your feelings now, it would be a pink rose. 

Happiness.

Yeosang was a smooth talker.

Even though you’d known him for only two days, you felt as if he had been there your whole life. After his signing session ended and he sent off the last bit of guests, he closed the bookstore and took you to your favourite part of the city, full of quiet and cozy restaurants where you could get to know each other uninterrupted.

You had a lot in common - you both liked matcha lattes and chocolate muffins, enjoyed riding your bikes, watching the sunset, and you both hated spicy food, loud places and queuing for a book at the bookshop on its release day. 

Yeosang told you about his bookstore and how it had all started. Surprisingly, he had graduated as a film major but hadn’t made any progress in that field, so he decided to turn to his hobby - writing. That’s how almost four years ago he opened his shop and started collecting old and tattered books, trying to find them a new home. You loved the spark in his eyes when he told you his story and realised you felt the same way about flowers. All you wanted was for the people who bought them to continue appreciating them as much as you did. 

You also noticed he was much shyer than you thought him to be, which you found endearing, and wondered how many more sides of him you were yet to uncover. His calm demeanor made you feel at home and safe with him, and you really didn’t want the night to end.

“So, tell me more about your daisies,” you began, taking a sip from your glass of wine. Yeosang let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Are you that curious?” He challenged you, and honestly, you weren’t sure if it was because of all the wine you had or him or both, but you had the urge to look away. The teasing glint in his gaze was too much for your poor soul, and you felt as if you were burning up every time you locked eyes. 

“Well, you don’t see every day a grown-up man with a daisy obsession, so yeah,” you answered, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Yeosang looked confident in your eyes, but you could still see a slight redness creep up his neck.

“Well,” he started explaining, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “I guess they just remind me of my childhood. When I was younger, I used to live in the countryside with my family for a while. There was this huge field with daisies where my parents, older sister, and I went every weekend. They bring me comfort, and I like their meaning as well.”

You imagined little Yeosang running around a big green field, chasing after butterflies and picking up daisies. Your heart might have as well burst at this point. “That sounds so adorable.”

“You think so? The bees weren’t so adorable,” he arched his eyebrows, smirking, and took a sip from his glass. “So, tell me about your flowers then. A story for a story.”

“My grandma used to be a florist herself in the past, so ever since I was born, there were flowers everywhere around me,” you recall, thinking of all the times she’d let you watch her tend her garden and help her water the small buds, waiting for them to grow. “I love everything about them - even though some people say they are just temporary happiness. There’s beauty in the fleeting too.”

“Let’s drink to that then,” Yeosang grinned, raising his glass. You did the same and nodded to him to continue. “To all the flowers and all the happy memories they leave behind.”

Over the next few months, you fell into a comfortable daily routine. You opened your shop at 8 in the morning, picked out the freshest flowers from the daily delivery you ordered from a local garden, and spent the whole day arranging bouquets until 5 in the afternoon. 

It fascinated you how people with different purposes, goals, and fates came to you to seek the comfort of flowers - some - for grief and loss, others - for first dates and confessions. You were always happy to help and introduce them to a deeper understanding of flowers.

The only variable in your life was Yeosang.

Your relationship remained painfully unlabeled. 

Were you dating? Kind of. You went out a few days per week, and whenever you didn’t, you stayed in his bookstore after you’d finished working, sharing a couple of hours of comfortable silence with him. During these quiet moments, he wrote his poems or read to you while you sat curled up on the sofa in his small office, reading whatever book you found that day or just listening to his soothing voice. 

Your mornings together were also something you loved. Yeosang, unlike you, was an early bird. His usual shift started at 10 a.m., but he came earlier so he could spend some extra time with you under the pretense he had nothing else to do. When you arrived at the shop, he was already sitting on the stairs in front of it, holding his daily gift, as called it, in his hands and shyly handed it to you. Usually, it consisted of a couple of daisies he’d picked up from the park next to his apartment building and a note wishing you a nice day or containing a short scribbled poem that always made you laugh. 

And your days were truly nice. Except you couldn’t stop thinking about Yeosang even for a minute. 

Today was no different, but this morning Yeosang seemed more nervous than usual. The sweat, glistening on his forehead, and his shaking hands as he handed you the daisies and a small piece of paper made you wonder what had him so worked up this early. He didn’t stay long, saying he had “some things to take care of” and left you alone, standing puzzled in the middle of your shop. 

Once you opened the folded note, you found out why Yeosang was acting so strangely.

Please, come and meet me at a field of daisies and dreams. 

Your hands were sweaty, your heart was probably beating in an inhumane rate, and you were smiling too widely as you walked to the location Yeosang had written on his morning note. It was past 7 p.m., and you could see the last vibrant colours of the fading sun light up the sky. The spring afternoon breeze caressed your face and swirled some cherry blossoms around you. You felt like you were a fairy tale character, surrounded by early-bloomed spring flowers and trees at your favourite park. It was close to your shop and one of the main reasons you chose that exact rental place. You loved going there after work, taking a long walk, and clearing up your thoughts whenever you felt the need to. You honestly didn’t expect Yeosang to remember this location since you’d told him about it a long time ago, yet he always found a way to surprise you.

There were a lot of people during this time of the day, so it was difficult spotting Yeosang in the sea of faces around you, but once you did - you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

No matter how many times you saw his face, you were always amazed. Now was no different - his bootcut jeans and blue t-shirt suited him perfectly, and his hair was hidden under a white beanie. He was holding a tote bag decorated with daisies in one hand as he waved at you with his free one. 

“Hey,” Yeosang beamed at you, pulling you in for a hug when he came closer. Wrapping your hands around him, you could smell the woody scent of his perfume and felt the softness of his dark locks at the nape of his neck under your fingertips. “You look beautiful.”

This date was going to be the end of you, for sure.

The cool night wind, the shimmering of the street lamps, and the calm breathing of Yeosang lying in your lap made you feel at peace. The sun was long gone under the horizon, and you had no idea how much time had passed since he pulled you to sit down on a soft blanket and took out of his bag probably the sweetest strawberries you’d ever eaten. Yeosang had definitely come prepared for this spontaneous picnic date. 

Now you ran your fingers mindlessly through his silky hair as he told you a story about some customer he had today. The position you were in felt domestic and comfortable as if you’d done this thousands of times before. You found it hard to concentrate on his voice when Yeosang started drawing random shapes on your thighs and then had the audacity to ask you about your day. If your head hadn’t been spinning from the overwhelming feeling of him, you would’ve probably answered him.

“Hey,” he whispered, his fingertips brushing your cheeks, trying to get your attention as he got up from your lap. The loss of his touch made you miss his warmth. “You’re spacing out.”

“You’re very distracting.” Unable to look at him or form any other coherent answer, you shifted your gaze to the small daisies growing on your right amongst the grass. You reached out your hand to touch them and felt the grass around them tickle your palm. 

“Now who’s obsessed with daisies, huh,” said Yeosang, amused, wrapping his fingers around your chin to turn your face to him. For a split second, you stopped hearing the world around you - the children’s laughter, the faded sound of music, coming from somewhere around you, all became muted under the rhythm of your heartbeat, ringing in your ears. It was just you and his soft gaze, studying your face, and Yeosang, rubbing his thumb across your chin. You saw his eyes wander downwards to your lips before he asked in a hushed voice, “Can I kiss you?”

Seconds after your nod, you felt Yeosang’s warm lips on yours. At first, his kiss was light and hesitant, and his movements- were slow and deliberate. You reached up to hold on to his t-shirt as he cupped your face with his big hands. The coldness of his palms made you shiver. Where you touched, you felt as if electricity was running through your body.

Before you knew it, Yeosang deepened the kiss, making you gasp for breath. Your shaky hands grabbed his shoulders for support while his moved to your thighs. It was too much. His lips left yours only to feel them on your neck, leaving shy kisses along your jawline and then continuing downwards. His lips stopped right above the daisy charm hanging from your silver necklace, which he had gifted you. The pink blush on Yeosang’s cheeks and the warmth and love you saw in his dark eyes were more than enough to make your heart swell with adoration. 

Yeosang reached for a small, freshly bloomed daisy beside him and pulled it from the ground. Placing it behind your ear, he caressed your cheek gently. “Do you know what’s the meaning of daisies?”

“Of course I do,” you replied, sounding offended. At this point, he had to know you were a walking flower encyclopedia. “New beginnings, purity, and faith.”

“That’s all?” Yeosang pressed, leaning in closer to your face again. The proximity had your head spinning. “I’ve heard of another one too.”

“And what is it?” You were feeling out of breath, his lips only centimeters away from yours. 

“True love.” 

These were his only words before Yeosang captured your lips in another kiss under the night sky and the stars shimmering above you.

You wanted this moment to last forever.

Daisies, you decided, were your favourite flowers.

note ❀ happy (late) birthday to yeosang! ♡

after a short delay, i finally had time to finish daisy so thank you everyone for waiting! i hope you enjoyed reading it! i'm still not very confident in writing stuff like that so feedback is appreciated! please lmk what you thought of this story! ♡

also, how are you feeling about the comeback? so far i love it so much 😭

daisy., © moanz111

please do not modify, copy, repost, or translate.