#sliding the writers a note that says 'show don't tell'
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I think my major issue with the finale (and s6 overall) is that Buck had SO much going on, 5 different thematically similar internal and external conflicts, and I don't feel like the show did nearly enough to weave them together or show the progress of them onscreen.
I have no idea why Buck was no longer scared to "pick the wrong couch again." I know why he was interested in Natalia specifically, but not the bigger emotional picture of how/why he got over this emotional hurdle.
I have no idea how he's changed since the lightning strike - they told us he has, but what's actually going on in his head? I have literally no idea.
I don’t know what kind of growth he experienced via the donor baby. I know he decided he could be donor-not-dad from the get go, stuck to that throughout the pregnancy, and then had a wistful moment gazing at his progeny. But that doesn't really feel like a big emotional moment when he's been saying it's not his kid for 8 months.
I know he started the season wanting more professional responsibility and ended it taking charge when the 118 was in danger, but I don't know what skills he acquired in the interim to allow him to do it successfully. I don't know how he feels about it. I don't even know if by the finale he still WANTED to lead. It was fine enough payoff, but it certainly wasn't an "Eddie suiting up in Mayday" kind of payoff.
I know his coma dream taught him Lessons but I don't know how they're reflected in his real life?
Compare how his arcs this season played out to Hen and med school, or Eddie and dating and I think you can see the massive deficiencies in Buck's season. And I'm totally aware that they need to leave things open so they have somewhere to go next season, but all of his (many, many) storylines having such a lack of emotional depth is a real bummer.
I think it would've been magnitudes better if he had really struggled on screen with the donation, so that moment of him handing the baby off to Kameron would've shown some real growth. A single conversation about him needing to not be scared to live because he DIED as an explanation for dating again. We sort of half-got a lot of these things - Buck telling everyone Kameron was pregnant and the onesie, Buck at the cemetery saying every day is a gift - but they didn't really commit to any of it, and they certainly didn't give themselves the time to flesh all of it out. All in all, for a very Buck heavy season, I don't feel like I know Buck any better, and I know he's made some steps forward, but only because they told us he did. I really would've liked to see the emotional journey to get there.
#obviously I have not gone back and rewatched the season in full so idk if this thought process will hold up#but i really feel that they gave him SO much to do that he kinda wound up doing nothing#and while yes a lot of things may have to happen offscreen on a show like this#i feel like his storylines required so much inference on very little content#and then in the end the show went 'this is what this plotline was about :)' which is. not very satisfying at all#I really wanted to feel satisfied with Buck handing off that baby.#but 'guy who's fine just being a donor having a moment with his offspring before giving him to mom' is like. not very poignant lmao#sliding the writers a note that says 'show don't tell'#i think these are my last critical thoughts on the finale cuz theres not much else to say#911 spoilers#911 fox
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Call It What You Want
husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader
summary: you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving) while pedro wears the skirt™️ (welcome to another episode of the writer's barely disguised fetish), p. in v., teeny bit of angst because i malfunction if i don't bring sad vibes to the function, the worst ever attempt of comedy witnessed by human kind, they're so down bad it hurts, jealous!reader, possesive!pedro, reader speaks spanish and may or may not have direct/indirect latino blood somewhere, use of spanglish but no translations ☹️ (boo go do your homework, citizens. that's what u get for making my dieter bravo fic flop BYE), i transcripted two real interviews for this so keep those likes, reblogs and comments up in the air where i can see 'em 🪓🪓
word count: 11,706 words
side note: hello! this is me, sliding my cv to become president of the pedro pascal fics. i'm kidding, just on duty to fulfill another request 🫡 believe it or not, i envisioned something like this but for myself IJBOL we have to keep the delusional levels UP!! i hope this meets ur expectations, it was fun to write :)
part: prev | masterlist | next
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"Please welcome, the internet's newest darling, Y/n L/n!"
You walk into the set, cameras flashing bright and the band playing on the back. You hug Jimmy Fallon, and when he notices your body trembling he tells you everything will be alright. So did your manager before you stepped inside, but you can't help the nerves. You've never been this big before, and now it's all coming down together without letting you breath.
You take your seat and so does Jimmy.
"Hello, Y/n. This is your first time here, right?"
"Am I being too obvious?" you snort. The crowd laughs with you.
"Don't worry. It happens, especially when you're so young"
"Oh, please" you blush. "I can promise you there are kid actors who could handle this better than I am right now"
"Kid stars?" he lets out one of his famous cackles. "No need to be humble. You are great! Let's just talk about the year you've had: big breakout roles, ascend to fame, you're rocking it!" the crowd cheers, and you again turn into a flustered mess.
"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard to dimension when you've started as an extra for popular shows, to now being, you know, the main face of projects. But I could get used to it" you smile, "it's been a dream. I still can't believe it sometimes, look- I'm shaking"
The camera pans closer to the hand you're showing to Jimmy.
"Oh my God, even big stars like you get nervous"
"Big star? I wish I could feel like a constellation. I'm feeling more like a red dwarf star, baby"
The whole place bubbles in laughter. You feel better, your manager even giving you a thumbs up from behind the cameras.
"So, Y/n" Jimmy says once the laughter dies. "You just got casted in the upcoming Gladiator II movie, directed by Ridley Scott. How does it feel to be on your first big movie, alongside names like Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal?"
You try to steady your heartbeat. "First of all, I have to say, it's such an honor to work with Scott. I grew up watching his movies. Like, Thelma and Louis is definitely my go-to movie. So, like, getting paired with such a talented cast is as awesome as terrifying" you answer with a laugh.
"Talking about that, you see" he leans closer, like he'll tell a secret. "I've heard things about you and a certain future co-star of yours"
You shift your position on the couch, your ring(less) finger itching. You have to avoid breathing in relief when Jimmy pulls out a picture.
"Oh. My. God"
He stiffles a laugh. No way. Has the room's temperature suddenly gotten hotter? Why is your face burning?
"Will you tell us the story behind this?" he asks, the camera focusing on the picture in question. The audience laughs, and you pray to God this is a nightmare, because it's too much embarrasment for a human to bear.
"Okay" you clear your throat, coughing awkwardly. "For my 25th birthday, I uploaded a bunch of pictures on Instagram, including ones where I was a teenager" you begin to giggle, "So. Um, there was this one, you see, that's, me, in my childhood home's bedroom, and my fans were quick to notice the poster above my bed"
"You mean, this one?" and Jimmy points it out. You cover your face with your palms. "It's a... Narcos poster" the audience laughs as you get redder. "A Pedro Pascal's Narcos poster"
"I know" you groan. "Picture this: me 18, and while my friends had posters of their favorite bands and artists, I was so different because I had a whole ass poster of a crime drama show about the world's most famous drug dealer on my bedroom" you recall with a laugh. "It was hard to explain to my mom. I believe she thought I wanted to sign for the DEA or something. When I told her I was going to be an actress, she was so relieved! She said: Oh, well. You'll die, but of hunger! Not a bullet in your head, at least"
"Oh. I'm so sorry. You proved her wrong though!"
"I did! Don't worry, Jimmy. She's my biggest fan now" you look at a specific camera before saying, "Te amo mami!"
"I see you speak spanish. I sometimes forget" he comments. "You've got one thing in common with Pedro, it seems. Think that'll make working with him less awkward?"
"I just hope he forgives me or I'm capable of moving out of the country and changing names" you giggle. "Pedro, lo siento!"
"Well, that's Y/n L/n, everyone! Pedro Pascal's number one fan" you burst out laughing in shame. "More on her lastest movie after the break"
mandoshoney: tell me i'm not the only one who started shipping pedro pascal and y/n l/n PLEASE can't wait to get content of them interacting ㅤㅤann-gell: mandoshoney y/n's pedro pascal's controversially young gf era starts now! i wonder how the press tour for #gladiatorII will go 🤔 unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they are dating ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess ptwt can never tweet like normal ppl…wdym you're betting your grandma?!!!?
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You were never a fan of secrets.
But then Pedro waltzed into your life with his charming smile and iconic mustache, and before you knew it, you had married him off in some church in California one random sunday morning ("I love you so much, can't wait to marry you, cariño" "If you can't wait any longer, why not now?")
Flash forward, four years later, and you'd think such event would be plastered all over the internet. But there is a reason why only you, family, a selected number of friends and your agents knew: you kept it a secret.
To the world, he was Chile's most elegible bachelor and you were a young rising star. The public loved both of you for the same reasons: charming persona and acting skills. Yet inside the privacy of your home, he was Pedro and you were y/n, wife and husband; he was yours as you were his.
And of course, no marriage is perfect, and your first real challenge is rather funny: you both get casted in your first movie together.
It shouldn't be hard, but it is. Being inside the Gladiator II set during seven months, so far away yet so close at the same time, was torture. You were Rome's empress and he's Marcus Acacius, yet behind the scenes, the actual married couple were you both.
It was hard to pretend you didn't know what he looked like without clothes when he wore his bathing suit, or that you didn't know his favorite food when Paul asked, or acting like you weren't interested in dating when a local in Malta during your trip at the beach asked you out (he didn't know who you were. You were flattered when he called you pretty in such a hot European accent, but then Pedro appeared from seemingly "nowhere" and you remembered what your real favorite accent was. He immediately called you bonita after that)
It was so hard to keep hands to yourself when he walked by you, covered in fake blood. To not think about licking it all over and under his armour. So was to pretend the thought of dry humping him with his Roman skirt on wasn't tempting. Or that the urge to kiss him got harder and harder to fight each passing day, even getting to a point where you would envy Connie for being able to kiss your husband in the open more, a privilege you didn't have.
You were loosing your mental health here. But Pedro was no better.
It was so hard to see you, the Moroccan sun shining over your features like you were an angel. Otherworldly. That he'd see red when you'd finish filming a scene with Joseph, forcing himself to interrupt the small chat you'd engage in after. He too couldn't keep pretending he didn't want to tear off those silk dresses out of your body, and kiss you out in the open like Joseph did.
He almost failed once, cornering you in the hallway of the hotel you were staying. His hot breath lingered on your neck. I miss you, he had said. You felt his hard brush the inner of your thigh. We can't, you whispered in a dragged out voice.
It was hard.
So you gave him your used panties, and you swear you could hear him jacking off in the bathroom of his room, next to yours. He'd screamed your name, and your hand had found it's way to your dripping cunt, doing what he was supposed to do; touching you the way he did. And you came, drowned out moans against your pillow. But it wasn't like when he did it.
But God has heard your prayers.
For the first time in weeks, you're lucky. You find Pedro sitting alone in the cafeteria, his phone in hand. He's still wearing his armour and skirt, not bothering to change for the break. You aren't God's strongest soldier, but you're trying not to go down on him so badly right here and now.
"Hey" he raises his head when he hears your voice, smile adoringly. It only grows wider when he notices you alone. "Thought you'd never get rid of Paul. He's like, stitched to you"
"Same can be said about you and Joseph" you sit across him, and despite most of his tone being playful, there are still hints of jealousy behind. It arouses you deeply, and with this hot summer day above you, your skin isn't the only thing that's getting sticky.
"In case you haven't read the script, I'm his wife" you wink. "Sorry this is how you find out"
He laughs loudly, and God, how have you missed that laugh. Sure, it's been there when you've been out with the cast together, but it doesn't tingle your chest as when you're the cause of it; it feels like it's for you only, and that's what makes it special.
"I miss you so much" he whispers, his hand sliding across the table, finding yours. His thumb carresses your soft palm, and you melt under Pedro's tender touch.
"I do too" you sigh, but it's instantly replaced by what could only be described as a smug face. You lean closer, whispering on his ear, the warm meeting cold. He shivers. "Wanna know something?"
"I'm all ears"
"I just came back from walking. Guess what?No one is 'round here" you lean back against your chair, shit-eating grin on your face as all his body tenses up. "Made sure of it. The trailer zone is empty too"
Pedro gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes look at you.
"Y/n" calling your name as a warning.
"What? Can't a girl find ways to have her husband all for herself?" you snort. "Please say yes" you let go of his hand, but the free fingers now travel across his broad chest, taunting him. "C'mon, we both deserve a break"
He can't say deny you anything, can he? You know it, he knows it.
Before you register, his big hand engulfs yours as you run across the set. You giggle at his rushed steps, even more when you stand before his trailer and he's fumbling his slippery hands with the doorknob, sloppy movements erratic.
"But you told me to stop" you tease, and he doesn't even let you add more because he's pushing you inside, forcing you with rough calloused hands to a chair and then you to sit over his lap.
"Fuck, babygirl. I've spoiled you way too much" he groans against your lips. "Lo sabes, ¿verdad? Just can't say no to you"
Your eyes darken dangerously, the hunger on them mirroring his own.
"How could you ever say no to this?"
You press your chest against his broad one as your lip bites into his lower one, teasing. Pedro feels his underwear getting tighter when your tongue finds its way inside his mouth, even getting a glimpse of the taste of the strawberries you had earlier before.
He deepens the kiss, and when you pull away to catch your breath, he doesn't waste his lonely mouth and busies himself with the task of kissing your sun-kissed neck, licking and pressing his lips under your jaw. Pedro goes even lower, down until he's reached your collarbone, making you groan a bit under his wet sloppy needy mouth. He's enjoying how putty you are under his intense kissing, fingers in his curls, that have begun to damp under the ablaze of the small space and pleasure that fills the air.
"Kiss me again in my lips" you whine after a while of him teasing you with kisses that get only rougher. "Pretty please, papi"
You cup his face in your hands, and Pedro's back to kissing you in the mouth, tasting all of your insides as he hasn't had in what feels like a lifetime.
"Of course, baby. Missed this pretty mouth" he mumbles in between hot kisses, his now growing boner pressing into you.
"Baby" you giggle. The skirt he's got on may hide it, but your fingers refused to wait, pulling it up. His bulge presses against the shorts he's got under the skirt, and you can feel your pussy and mouth drool. "We have to do something about this big boy" your hands pull down the short, leaving just his underwear on. He's about to remove the skirt, but your demanding hands stops him. "This stays"
His brown concerned eyes make you laugh, but you don't give him time to think about it, rather grinding against his erection. Pedro's breath hitches when he feels your daring movements, bucking his hips against yours.
The friction is addicting, and he captures your lips once again to make you feel what he can't with words: how fucking good this feels.
You keep moving over his aching dick. Your husband throws his head back, groaning in pleasure at the way your hips move against him, knowingly. His hands find their way to your ass under the flowy almost translucent skirt you chose to change in, gripping the rosy skin tightly, hands almost covering all of it.
"You wore this for me, right, cariño? Knew I couldn't say no" he groans, firm hands on your cheeks, the grinding meeting his hips now harsher. "Less with you walking around with this slutty skirt of yours"
You make little sounds he's obssesed with, dripping out of your filthy mouth.
"Fuck" Pedro groans after a while, "I need to have you, mami. Missed you so much" eager fingers make it to your top. He growls, deep within him―guttural, ready to pull it off as he mumbles naughty wife when he realizes you got no bra on, chastising you for a "rushed" plan that seemed planned all along, when a sound cuts through the air.
You both stop.
The sound gets clearer.
It's a knock. A knock at his door.
A knock in Pedro's trailer.
And you are inside. Both.
While you're grinding him.
With his skirt on.
(It's time to build a bomb and kill yourselves off and whoever is stading behind that door)
"Pedro!" a familiar accent calls. Peudrou. It's Paul. "Hey, man. Just wondering if you are here"
He's debating on speaking up when he sees your red face and rising-falling chest before him.
"Answer" you whisper breathlessly. He tries not to groan when he fills you slip out of the spot in his middle while also trying not to think about murdering Paul as soon as he gets out.
Aside from the order, you're unexpectedly quiet, and Pedro quirks an eyebrow at you. He knows you better―you're his wife after all, and if there's something he's aware of, is your inability to loose.
"I'm here" tone clipped and annoyed. But no footsteps backtracking are heard: the Irish man is still there.
You bite your lip, watching the skirt with his legs spread, a sight too tempting. Also, he was still hard, as hard as the task to not go and keep doing your job.
Oh, fuck this shit.
Your devilish hand equals the grin in your face, fingers making their way toward his unattended bulge.
"What are you doing here?" Paul asks, but Pedro's attention has completely deviated, now focused on how they land right over his clothed dick, skirt pulled up by your other hand. "I thought you were at the cafeteria"
"Yeah?" but it comes out strained, yet the younger man doesn't notice or comment.
His hips raise when your fingers press his member, massaging it.
"Yeah" he uses a tone that equals a duh. "You texted me yourself"
Pedro rolls his eyes, wishing desperately he would go away, annoying him just as much as a fly hovering above fresh food. Talking about food, fuck, weren't you hungry? He tried to warn you, holding your wrist, but all resolve was lost the moment you looked in his eyes: he immediately pulled down his briefs, dick sprouting hard.
"Well, changed my mind" his tone falters in between words, member now free from the confines of his tight underwear.
"Are you tired, man? You sound tired" Paul comments on his tone. "Came to rest?"
You spit on your hand, and he gulps.
"Somethin' like that"
You start to jerk him off, leaving little wet kisses and licks just above his dick. Pedro's eyes are hypnotized, glued to every lick of yours across his girth, the spit making your movements smoother. Sexier. Fuck.
"Well, sorry to break it to you but rest time is over. They want us back on set now"
Your tight needy lips are wrapped around his his length and it's so hard to keep the talk normal when he justs wants to yell at Paul to fuck off. Your hand is there too; you are as of help as much as you aren't.
"I'll be there, Paul, just―Fuck!"
But his attempt to cover a moan doesn't go unnoticed.
"Are you alright in there?" he tries to enter, but Pedro locked the door. He's yelling he's fine, but Mescal doesn't sound convinced. "I can't go inside; it's locked. Are you sure you are okay, mate?"
"Didn't want you to take a picture of me drooling on my sleep" he manages to get out in a monotone voice. A real win if you take into account you've gotten to a point where you squeeze under his cock, massaging his balls.
"Smart move!" he chuckles from outside. "I guess I'll see you there"
Pedro covers a moan with his palm as he's throwing his head back in pleasure. He can feel his orgams looming over, minstrations growing sloppier around his pulsating cock, the need to fill your greedy evil mouth with his seed making him sick. He's a simple man: he just wants his pretty wife to fuck his cock silly and come in her mouth in peace. Is that so hard to get this days?
Paul seems to be finally gone as Pedro can't keep containing his grunts anymore, steps moving: until said steps sound closer again.
"Oh, I almost forgot, have you seen Y/n? I can't find her anywhere" it's coming. His orgasm is coming in the absolute worst moment. He can feel you gagging at his hard rock cock, hitting the back of your throat now. Still, your hands don't loose their grip on his cock and skirt, determination filling that sexy little body of yours. It was rather admirable the effort you were putting in this. "Think she went to the beach? She said she loved it. God, that little rebel. Anyway, if you see her, tell her-"
He leans his head back once again, seeing stars. No one knows him like his wife, truly.
The sight of you drooling from your chin, the wet sounds of him fucking himself onto your mouth as your spit-coated fingers pump his girth, you gulping down the precum from his tip, his fingers holding your face roughly by the cheeks...
"Yes, Paul, yes!" Pedro barks, barely hiding the moan that erupts from his ribcage, thick shots of his hot cum hitting your tongue and deep of the throath. "Fuck off and let me get ready"
"Jesus, mate, chill. I'm sorry. See you there"
And Paul Mescal's hovering fly ass is finally gone.
"Poor Paul" you say as soon as you pull off his length, voice raspy as you huff for air. Pedro lovingly cleans rests of your saliva and his cum from your chin as he chuckles at how much audacity, courage and horniness could fit in such a small young body. "You've ruined the friendship"
"You think?" he licks off some as you sit on his lap again, tongue directly on your face. You feel aroused again, but time's up. "It's your fault. That and this"
He points down.
"Just as you used that pretty head of yours to think of the trouble you just made, think of an excuse for Mr. Ridley about the skirt"
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at0michips: wait wdym paul is sick??? ㅤㅤl-u-n-a-m: at0michips he's died vnightx: i'm wondering who'll do now the do you even know me interview with pedro now :( i was so excited!!! hope they don't cancel it :( ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: vnightx i bet my grandma it's y/n ㅤㅤat0michips: unhing3dprincess why do u keep betting ur grandma omg 😭😭😭
"You know what I think would be fun?" Pedro comments while you wait for the interview's set to be prepared.
Tour press has finally begun. That meant you could go home for a while after the filming wrapped, just to be back for the promotion of the film. You were excited of course, the experience new and thrilling. After much needed battery recharging and husband/wife time, you were ready to take over the world.
But then Paul got sick.
Today's interview was scheduled to be him and Pedro, but since he was unavailable, they paired him with you, since you both spoke Spanish (which felt slightly racist in your opinion), and because Fred and Joseph were already paired up for the other.
You leave your coffee, knowing he's about to say something stupid or endearing, perhaps both, brown liquid probably spilling out of your mouth. Or worst, nostrils.
"Tell me"
"What if we left little hints that we're together?" his smile is one of mischief. "Like you could wear my cap, or I could wear a chain with your initial around my neck, like Ryan Gosling did at the Barbie premiere"
"Or as Taylor Swift sang" you counter. "But Pedro, dear, you're underestimating our fans. You don't think they'll match it sooner than we think?"
"Maybe" he agrees. That's just what I want. "What's funny is we're about to do a type of interview where we could blow our cover"
"Maybe" you repeat, "or maybe you don't know all about me as much as you think, Mr. Pascal"
He fake gasps, feigning hurt. "Is this a dare, Mrs. Pascal?"
"No" you try to be mature for once, cutting the banter as much as you'd like to go on and kiss him right there. "Also, remember to answer incorrectly sometimes, you know..."
"There's no way I'm letting you win though"
"Pedro, no seas necio!"
The producers arrive just in time to let you know it's ready.
"After M'lady" he's back to being charming as he is, not as husband charming but just Pedro Pascal charming. The nerve of this guy to do it in front of the LADbible crew.
"Whatever" you grumble, the nerves getting the best of you as you realize this interview may or may not give away more than you've been allowed before.
"Hello, I am Y/n L/n" you present yourself. Wow, the camera is really close. This isn't going to end well.
"And I'm Pedro Pascal"
Hearing his voice soothes you. It's okay, y/n, you got this. "And this is Do You Really Know Me- No wait, it's do you even know me. Okay, let's start again: Hello, I'm Y/n and this is-"
"I don't even know anymore" Pedro jokes, making you laugh. "Do you even know me?" he asks while looking forward, now making the crew laugh.
"This is Pedro Pascal, that'll do" you sigh.
"This is gonna be sad, she's not going to know any of these" he says, but in reality, he's mocking you, the mischief in his eyes glowing as he only looks at you tauntingly.
"Same can be said about you" you tease, "we're like a million years away"
"That's not true!" he gasps, "I watch your every move" punctuating each word. God, you try not to make a face. "I have Google alerts on you"
If he was gonna play, so were you.
"Glad to know I have you alerted" with the sweetest voice ever, seeing how his friendly façade falters for a bit at the tone you've used. You laugh, and Pedro takes the chance to laugh it off too.
After the introduction, they ask one of you to keep score, and you offer yourself because, well, you don't trust Pedro.
"I'll go first" you say. "Which was my first ever role in the industry? As an extra during an episode of Stranger Things, as a voice actor in A dog's purpose" you can't help but laugh, "or as a back-up dancer in Hustlers?"
"In Hustlers?" Pedro inquires in disbelief. "You're telling me you were in Hustlers?! I didn't even know you could dance!"
Lies. You and Pedro sometimes put some bachata and dance in the kitchen. God bless Juan Luis Guerra.
"Jennifer Lopez and I are practically besties" you answer nonchalant.
You know the answer. He does too. But he chooses the last one for comedic purposes.
"I'll go with Hustlers. Now that I'm looking at you, you do have a... dancer face"
"It's okay, you can say the forbidden word. I'll take it as a compliment" you laugh, "you're wrong, though. The answer is Stranger Things"
"No way!" and it sounds as if he genuinely didn't know. Good lying son of a bitch; Jim Carrey on Liar, Liar would've been proud.
"Yes. If you look in the background of season two, on this one episode where Nancy and Steve appear to have broken up during a halloween party, you can see me drinking from a cup on a corner"
"That's so crazy"
"Yeah, I was twenty already, yet playing a highschooler" you giggle. "Wow, time flies by. Anyway, we're both at zero. Your turn"
"What film did my dad not let me see at the cinema when I was, uh, ten years old?" Pedro reads from his card. "Rambo: first blood, The Breakfast Club, Day of The Dead"
"I'm going to base this in the year you were born. Okay, so 1975. Let's see" one of the things Pedro loves about you is that you're like a film encyclopedia, but right now, that'll cost him a point. "They all came out the same year, and they were also R rated. Hmmh, I'll choose The Breakfast Club"
Your analysis was just mindless bragging really. You knew the answer the moment he started reading the question, because the anecdote came during a time he heard you listening to the movie's soundtrack ("Did you know that my dad...")
"You complain about Paul all the time, but you're just the same" he comments. "She's a real competitor, people!"
You flush in embarrasment. "Okay, that's one for me. Next question" you read the card in your hands. "What pet do I own? An orange cat named Louis after my favorite singer, a fish, or a Shih Tzu named after my brother"
The orange cat lives with you both. You're curious as to how he'll answer.
"You aren't naming a Shih Tzu frickin' Fernando" he laughs, so loud, it ends up catching up to you and the crew. "I'll go with the cat"
"That's correct" you lament. "How would you know?"
As if the damn cat doesn't love him more than he loves you.
"I follow you on Instagram" he defends himself. Clever. "We are, um, what do you call it-"
"Oomfs"
"I'm not gonna try to pronounce your made up language. Okay, my turn. Which of these characters I've played in Saturday Night Live? Naughty daddy, protective mom, or weird uncle who has a creepy sneeze" he reads out loud in a confused tone.
This is easy. It was all over your timeline.
"Protective mom" you answer on a beat.
"This isn't fair, that was really popular!" he complains.
"It's still two for me and one for you" you mock. "Now, what is the nickname the internet has given me? I won't give you clues because it's an easy one"
"Easy? You said we were million of years apart and now I'm supposed to know?"
"Well, you seem to manage Instagram so I think you'll be just fine" you tease, and Pedro just wants to rip that smirk off of you. So he caves in first.
"It's people's princess"
"What?!" your eyes grow comically large, shimmering with betrayal as you shout with an incredulous tone. "I can't believe you know" more like can't believe you said it.
"You're royalty! How am I supposed to not know that, internet darling? Besides, told you: I keep my eye on you" and he winks.
This motherfucker. Oh, he's totally sleeping on the couch tonight.
"Talk about internet darlings" your snarky tone comes out, and Pedro knows he's pissed his competitive wife off. "I guess we have a tie. Your turn"
"What are the initials of my full name?" his brows furrow. "I forget. JBPP, JPBP, JBPP"
"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite. "B, of course"
"But that's too easy, everyone with Google knows it!" but then he's leaning into your ear, whispering in a very low voice to make sure only you hear. "I'll let it pass, though. Love hearing you pronounce my name, mami"
Your face grows obscenely red. "I'm back ahead. Let's see if you can keep up. Okay, here it goes" you read the card, "what is the director I've stated I want to work with? Greta Gerwig, Pedro Almodóvar, or Quentin Tarantino"
"Pedro Almodóvar, no? You said you were jealous I had already worked with him" he playfully nudges you. Too much contact, face hot again. Maybe in group interviews you'll do better, because right now, you're doing a rather poor job at controlling yourself, even as an actor; you can already picture your agent pulling her hair behind the cameras.
"It's Greta Gerwig, actually"
"What?! No way, you told me this!" he grumbles. "This game is rigged"
"Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous. I just think working with Greta Gerwig is peak womanhood, and I gotta live that. So, Greta, if for some reason this silly video gets to you, call me. I promise I'm not that childish"
"She is" Pedro slips in, "don't call her. So unprofessional" in a mocking exaggerated tone.
"Whatever, you sore looser. Me three, you two. Next!"
"Fine. Which of these songs would I have played at my funeral? My Heart Will Go On, Purple Rain, Nothing Compares To You"
He looks at you, silently pleading you to not answer correctly. Your competitive side screams in agony.
"I have no idea. Why do I feel you've already said it somewhere, though? I'll go with Nothing Compares To You, because the first its too corny for you and the second too epic"
He scoffs, amused at the fact that you did obey, but at what cost? Pedro's well aware his princess can get as competitive, if not worse, than Paul.
"You're saying I'm not epic enough for Purple Rain? Too bad, because that's the answer" you grunt, crossing your arms. "That's right, I am cool enough to have it played. I guess we're tied again!"
"No, you don't loose a point. It's still three to two. This just gives you the opportunity to tie"
"W-wait a minute"
"Settle down" you pat his thigh, "you can still try, handsome"
He gulps when your hand meets his skin, despite the layer of clothes. It's still something that gets him on edge, no matter the years you've known each other. And handsome? You came here for blood.
"Okay, here's your chance: what image of me became trending topic on twitter? An image of me eating a typical dish from my country, an image of me watching Deadpool and Wolverine with glasses while Hugh Jackman's shirtless scene reflects on them or C, me meeting Taylor Swift at the backstage of the Eras Tour"
"The typical dish is tempting" he muses out loud, "but I'll go with the Taylor Swift one because that sounds like something that'd trend"
"You're right" you throw your card. "I'm not complaining though. Best day of my life"
"Does this mean I'm winning?" he beams excitedly. "Oh, in your face Paul! I will finally win something!"
"Slow down, cowboy. There's still some left"
He purses his lips. "Let me have this one thing, would you? Guess not. Here it comes" he starts to read his card, "At school I competed in state competitions, in which sport? Soccer, lacrosse, swimming"
"Swimming" you answer hastily, trying not to think on Pedro wearing tight little swimsuits, as you've only seen him wearing swim trunks.
"Okay, that's dissapointing. Please continue"
"I participated in which play while I was in highschool? Hamlet, The Iliad or Much Ado About Nothing"
You doubt he remembers. The only time it ever came up, was when you visited your parent's house and a photography of you during said play was showed to him by your dad.
"The Iliad, right?" you laugh. The answer is wrong: It's Hamlet. "What? I swear it was that one! It's just you have very..." beautiful is at the tip of his tongue but he refrains himself, "...very greek features"
You can't help but laugh.
"Why of course! This is a face people go to war for"
"I agree" your heart skips a beat, "but I don't think I'll make it that far, if we talk about a war"
"You big fat liar!" you slap his arm playfully. "You've played all sort of characters, from soldiers of all nationalities and places, and like, superheroes, f*****g Joel Miller, even a DEA agent. You at least learned something!"
"Wow, slow down, this isn't a filmography recount" he jokes. Liar, you mouth to the cameras. "Okay, last one: I became a viral sensation for eating what type of sandwhich in LADbible's snack wars: BLT, PB&J, grilled cheese"
You remember the video fondly. Even your brother had sent it to you, along a text that said: Isn��t this your husband?
"PB&J, I win!" you cheer, instantly getting off the chair to do a celebratory dance. Pedro doesn't say anything, just throwing the cards away while the fondness of his eyes betrays him.
pyramiidsf: i want someone to look at me the way pedro looks at y/n mybritishstyle: guys they're just friends 😭 he's like that with all his female co-stars ㅤㅤann-gell: mybritishstyle me when i'm delusional af mandoshoney: where's that girl that's always betting her grandma??? SHE WAS RIGHTFLKRGJ
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"Hello, I'm Paul Mescal. I'm here with my friends from the cast of Gladiator II" Connie and you both raise your palms to greet the camera, laughing when you realized you'd done it at the same time, "and we are going to play a game about how well we know each other for Vanity Fair" the irish man introduces the interview you're filming today.
"Did they prompt you?" Pedro speaks up, "or did you just make that up on the fly?"
You laugh a bit too loud, hoping they cut it off in the editing process.
Paul goes first, taking up a card with the first question written on it.
"Okay. Question: What's my least favorite day of the week?"
"Tuesday" answers Joseph once Paul is done reading. "Oh, you're writing it down?"
"Yeah" he answers.
"You just wrote Tuesday" Connie points out, Paul's card on his legs. You laugh along the rest.
"Yeah" he repeats laughing. "I actually, when you said Tuesday" Yeah, he said Tuesday Pedro adds on the background of laughter. "I was like...I'm gonna give everybody a point for that"
"I think I deserve a point for being observant" Connie complains.
Everyone gets a point and Paul moves towards the next question.
"What was the name of my character in Normal People?"
"Connell" both you and Joseph answer, looking at each other before squinting your eyes playfully.
"Callum" Pedro answers out loud at the same time, and you laugh. He clearly had slept when you played it for a re-watch last summer.
"No, you're out" Paul pokes Pedro next to him.
"Connel" Joseph repeats, and Fred agrees to the same answer.
Paul then asks Connie what's hers after he confirms you three.
"Connor?" she asks, confused.
"Incorrect. Three points" while pointing you three.
"You got wrong" he tells Pedro, "Callum's a different character"
"See? You just don't pay attention when you watch things" you blurt out, stopping yourself before adding the with me. It would be harder to come back from that, but so is this as everyone looks at you, even your husband, subtle panic in his eyes. Where the cameras this close? How long had you been silent?
"It's just, quick funny story" you improvise. "Pedro didn't know much about Paul's career, and as I am a fan, I took the time to show him and recommend him your stuff" Paul smiles. "Clearly, my fanatism didn't rub on Pedro but a girl can try"
He laughs, before saying "So the answer is Connell" and you try so hard to remain normal like the energy hasn't shifted.
"He only plays characters with the letter C in the name" Pedro jokes, chewing on a toothstick he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. More laughs follow, and you are so grateful for how he's handling your little metida de patada.
"What's number one on my bucket list?" he asks next, "and don't look at my answer"
The marker is the only sound to be heard, and then Pedro jokingly tries to take a peek.
"No peeking" Connie berates as Pedro laughs.
"You're not gonna be able to see that" Paul replies in an anyways tone.
You repeat the same joke, before Fred blocks you. "Not you too!"
Paul finishes after a while, Connie commenting it was long. Joseph raises his hand.
"Yes, Joseph"
"Is it to see the Great Wall of China?" he asks.
"No, but it's in that-"
"It's close, isn't it?" you interrupt.
"...family of thought" he finishes.
"It's to go and see something" Pedro points out.
"Okay. Rajasthan" tries Connie. "Go to Rajasthan, for a tour"
"Travel to South America" Paul interrupts with the correct answer, "I've never been to South America"
"I'm from South America" Pedro comments, never missing a chance to shout out his dear Chile.
Paul jokes about him getting three points while the rest of you laugh.
"I was born in South America. 17 points for Pedro"
"I want points too" you jump on the joke. "I know Spanish, so I can take you there and avoid you getting lost, mi querido amigo"
"But who was born there?" Pedro counters, "you get no points"
"I think Joseph is the only person who gets a point there" Paul adds, "because everybody just jumped on the bandwagon"
"He said to visit the Great Wall of China" Pedro protests, "which is nowhere near South America"
"It really is not" Connie agrees.
"Qué gente tan tramposa" you complain. "That's unfair. I remove my offer"
"Think about bucket list, and he came up with travel to bit" he tries to reason Joseph's point.
"And by the way, where in South America?" Pedro questions.
"Don't fight, don't fight" pleads Joseph, the calm one. Fred just sits there, enjoying the chaos.
"I want, any, I want to do a big tour of everywhere" Mescal defends himself.
Pedro doesn't back down. "'Cause it's very different"
Paul starts to get angry too. Jesus, men. Competitive men of it all.
"I know it's very different" making an annoyed face.
"Well, different is nice" you intervene, a hand placing in Pedro's left shoulder. "If you stop giving points for free, I'll come with you to the big everywhere tour"
"Alright" Paul agrees. "When's my birthday?" is the next question.
"February" all of you say.
Joseph struggles with the date first, saying seventh, then fourth. Fred tries with ninth, Pedro with eight, and then Joseph starts counting from one to two. Fred counts from eleven to twelve.
"Second" Mescal reveals. "Point to Joseph"
"Oh my God, you guys are good" Connie mentions.
"That's all my questions" and it's time to move on the next one: which happens to be your dear husband, Pedro.
"Paul is like" he brings up while the toothpick dances on his teeth, "Paul is motivated to catch up on points. He's coming for you" to pick on his competitive side as Mescal looks deep in thought.
"He's coming. He's coming" Joseph repeats as Fred laughs.
"What is my full name?"
"Oh! Pedro-" Paul tries in a blink. "Something, J? Jose? Juan?"
"Pedro Pascal, something, something" says Joseph.
"Nope"
"No?"
"Pedro Maria, Jose Maria Pascal" Paul struggles.
Pedro is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air.
"It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite.
"It indeed is!" he says, smiling a bit too much. "She gets a point"
"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" your husband repeats in a more english-friendly pronunciation, looking at the camera while toying with his toothpick.
"I said Jose, I said Jose" Paul protests.
Pedro shakes his head. "You said Jose, but then you put it-"
Connie takes Paul's side. "You did say Jose"
"But then you put it behind Pedro which eliminate- which disqualified you" he replies.
Paul gets angry. That sore looser.
"That's absolute bullshit"
"Don't worry mate, the game has just begun" you joke, making the man more irritated. "Think you can get ahead of me?"
"Joseph is still ahead, y/n" Paul counters, still irritated. "Besides, wouldn't it be cheating? You can speak Spanish!"
"So? Not like speaking a language allows you to know every person's name Paul" you mock. He just snorts, despite still being half angry. Pedro is allowed to continue, trying not to make a face at yours and Paul's banter.
"The question is, who is my favorite actor?" he reads. As the cast members laugh, he uncaps the marker with his mouth, and now you have to try not to make a face, thinking about those teeth sinking into your flesh.
Quinn raises his hand. "It's me"
"That you're my favorite actor?"
"Yeah. You said that to me once" the bald man sounds sure of it.
Paul tries to think in the background. So do you. How can you not know this? he must've brought it up at least once.
"Do you remember?" Joseph insists.
Pedro finally remembers. "I said you were- I said I thought you were special"
"Oh" he sounds rather dissapointed.
"And special can mean a lot of things" he jokes, laughing by himself. Fred laughs with you as Joseph makes a face, your laughter turning even louder when you notice Paul all moody, trying to get this point.
"Who's your favorite actor?" Paul asks, "I think we just have to shoot from the hip here guys"
"Marlon Brando?" Connie guesses.
"Is it Harrison Ford?" Fred guesses.
"Let's go with Harrison Ford just because he's my favorite actor..."
You can't believe you didn't know this. You've re-watched and watched so many Star Wars content together. He gives you a brief look, knowing you're embarrased at your lack of answer.
"As a kid?"
"He's most influent, yeah" Pedro agrees.
"What job did I have before I became a full-time actor?" is next.
"Dancer. You were a great dancer" Paul aswers. Both Fred and Joseph repeat it, adding he was specifically a go-go dancer.
"Oh, he is" you add. "Videos of you dancing are lovely. Ever thought of getting back in the bussiness?"
He laughs, what appears to be a light blush creeping up his cheeks.
"Sure, darling. When you ask me to dance, I'll be there"
Nobody comments on this, too busy waiting for Pedro to say yes or no to the answer they believe to be right. But he isn't saying it is. Now you remember why.
"Come on, come on, come on" Paul begs.
"Can any of you guys remember?" Pedro pleads.
They insist that he danced in Spain, then New York, then settle with Spain again, even Pedro confirming so. But it still isn't the answer written on the card, no matter how much the boys insist.
"Connie?" he tries. She just looks confused.
"The answer in the card is-"
"Waiter" you answer. "You were a waiter"
Now you have three points under your belt.
"Why do you always say the answer at last?!" Paul grumbles. "You are cheating!"
"I'm not" you laugh the accusation off. "You just can't accept I'm better"
"Si que lo eres" Pedro agrees. "Es divertido hacer que se enoje Paul"
"What did you say about me? It's not fair, you're probably sharing the answers!" he's still adamant on insisting with the supposed cheating issue, making you laugh.
Now it's Connie's turn, who starts with: "How many languages do I speak?"
You put a puzzled look.
"You speak seven, eight maybe" Joseph guesses. Pauls says she speaks french, "but most likely seven"
Pedro points his finger at him. "Once he gets going, he's on a roll"
"Joe's got it" Connie agrees.
"Paul, end this reign" Pedro jokes. He looks rather frustrated.
"And the bonus points" Connie offers. "Okay, bonus, what are they?"
"This is an emperor's reign" your husband adds.
Joseph answers: Italian. Danish. English. Swedish. French. Spanish. Norwegian.
Connie agrees she speaks Spanish, making you jump in excitement.
"Oh, I didn't know that!" you beam. "Wait, does that mean you did get what Pedro and I gossiped about you?"
"What?" Joseph asks.
"Nada" you quickly correct yourself. "Yo no dije nada"
"Not that much. I just speak a bit of Spanish. I mostly dominate my own language, German and English"
"You blew our cover!" Pedro nags, hitting your bare leg, yet its devoid of anger.
"He needs a bonus" comments Connie, surprised at Joseph.
"This is horrifying" Pedro says when Joseph gets another point and a fricking bonus on top of that. "This is a slaughter"
"Oh, for which film did I have a gym built in my garage?"
Both Joseph and Paul answer the question correctly, saying Wonder Woman. The latter is quick to state they both get that point.
"That's one for me" Paul says, then looks at you. "And none for you"
You stick out your tongue at him as Connie reads the next card.
"If I were to take this cast on a vacation where would I take you?"
"Ibiza" answers Joseph. Connie agrees in Spanish, with a cute and excited correcto.
Your husband feels the need to crack a joke at Quinn's expense.
"Somebody was paying attention to Connie Nielsen very closely during the shooting of this movie"
"Okay. What is my favorite curse word in Danish?"
"Fuck" Pedro tries.
"No"
"Nobody is going to get that, Connie" Paul bickers.
"Oh, I don't know any Danish" you lament.
"At least now you know how it feels" Mescal drops, making you snort. You playfully kick him on the ribs with your shoe.
"It's very simple" Connie gives as a clue. "It's the same word in every language"
"Shit" Paul tries.
"Satan" she reveals.
Everybody is laughing in confusion at that, saying there's no way you could use that.
"Vos Satan!" Connie curses.
Now it's Fred's turn.
"What is my weirdest on-set habit?"
"I haven't noticed you do anything weird on set" Paul tells.
"I have" Pedro interrupts.
They all get on a small briefing about what could it possibly be, that it was weird, and wasn't part of his character, as you ponder. It was funny before, but now Paul is behind you by a point. So think fast.
"Yeah. I would say being yourself" Pedro jokes, but surprisingly, it works.
"Me! Five points for Pedro" he celebrates as you all laugh. "Love Fred. Oh, Fred"
"Oh, oh, okay" he moves to the next question. "What is my favorite reality TV show?"
Joseph tries with Survivor and Paul with Alone. Truth is, you don't watch any show of said kind, only vagely hearing about Love Island.
"You and I have talked about reality TV" Pedro reveals, "It's just that we never identified one"
They keep guessing shows that sound like a foreign language to you.
"You know what's offensive? That I'm the second youngest of this cast and I have no idea what are you all talking about"
"She's not to be trusted" Pascal quips, "can't trust someone who doesn't appreciate the art of reality TV"
You huff, annoyed.
"Is it A&E stuff?" Pedro asks.
"Yeah, it's the competitive cheapskates" Fred answers. "It's people that really save money on everything"
Pedro gets the point because he mentioned the A&E bit.
"There's like this amazing guy that made a stew out of fish bones, and I just thought it was incredible" he shares. Then, moves to the next question. "What is my go-to crafty snack?"
Nobody remembers eating snacks on set, and Fred gives the clue that it's a drink. Joseph says it's a smoothie, and he does remember it but it isn't the answser.
"I'm thinking of something specific. That Emerge-C that you put in the water"
"Oh, that's very good" you agree, so does the rest, even discussing the best colors
"Who in the cast would I ask to bail me out of jail?"
Everyone even Pedro agree its him. Everyone gets a point, yet Joseph remains ahead.
It's Joseph's turn. "What is my favorite sport?"
"Skateboarding" Paul is so quick to answer, earning him two points for both being correct and time.
"What celebrity do I get mistaken for?"
"Daisy Edgar-Jones sometimes" says Mescal. Of course he had to bring her up.
"No, she gets mistaken for me" Joseph jokes. "Yeah, poor Daisy. But I'm writing it down"
"That was the two letters?" Pedro notices. Still, no one gets it.
It's fucking Justin Timberlake. You'd never guess that.
"What is my favorite film franchise?"
You've probaly named all the existing franchises to no avail. You think fo your dad, a huge geek, trying to remember if there is one missing.
"Oh- Lord of the Rings!" you both answer with Paul at the same time.
"C'mon!" his celebration is short lived when he realizes you tied to him.
"What is my favorite British slang word?"
Pedro says it can't be said, but Quinn insists they can, even adding it's his favorite one too.
"We can say bad words? We can say-?" but the camera beeps over it.
The answer is Bellend. What even is that? Joseph feigns sadness and Pedro keeps apologizing, even as you sit on the chair.
"Okay. I'm last"you wiggle your eyebrows with interest. "Let's see. Okay, first question: what did I take from the Gladiator II set?"
"You took something?" Joseph asks on disbelief.
"Why wouldn't I take something?"
"Is it like an item or memorabilia?" asks Connie.
"It's an item" you uncap the marker, scribbling down the answer.
"It's a short word" Fred points out, but still can't provide a guess.
"You took the rings home" Pedro answers. You snap your had on his way, probably obvious. "What? You told me" he says.
Of course Paul complains. "Hey, that isn't fair! He knew the answer before!"
"Well, if you payed more attention to me, you'd know it"
Lies. Pedro knows because it's sitting in the jewelry box inside your house.
"See? I do pay attention" Pedro playfully hits Mescal.
"I could pay you more attention" he looks at you.
"Alright, then do. Ready? Next question: what is my go-to movie? Oh, this is a good one. I'm always changing it, but most of the time I end up choosing the same one"
They all give you a puzzled look as you scribble.
"C'mon, guys! I've said it on interviews before too. Paul?" the man shrugs. "Thought you said you'd pay me more attention. Heads up, you're doing a terrible job so far!"
"Hey!" he protests. "It's not fair if the answer's changing. Give us a clue"
"You didn't give any clues to yours!" you giggle. "Besides, I don't want you to win"
"Hey, that's against the rules!"
"I'd say it depends on the season" Pedro speaks up. You quirk an eyebrow. "Like, if it's changing, I don't think your Christmas go-to movie is the same as your summer one"
"Actually" you smile fondly, "that is true. On summer, it's Mamma Mia. So I suppose, if you can't guess the one, that'll do"
"No" he smiles, cheeky. "I know it too"
"Yeah?" you challenge, "what is it, then?"
"It's Thelma and Louise" he answers, and your heart beats fast.
"How do you know?" Paul inquires. "Somebody was paying attention to Y/n L/n very closely during the shooting of this movie"
Ah, his joke from earlier. Joseph giggles behind him. Karma, he supposes.
"She said it on an interview, guys. C'mon, learn your sources!"
"Okay" you clear your throat. "What movie got me into acting?"
"Thelma and Louise" Joseph tries.
"No" you laugh, "you're just recycling the answer"
"Is it an old or modern movie?" Connie asks.
"Hmh, old" you pause, "just not... I don't know if you'll ever guess it"
"Is it a Pedro Almodóvar film?" you shake your head. "What? You're always mentioning him!"
Pedro looks into your eyes amid the others' discussion, and you can tell he remembers the conversation.
"There isn't one"
You smile, chest pounding at his soft tone.
"That's correct"
"A trick question?!" Paul yells. "I quit"
"When there's just one left?" you tease.
"Yes, because you've been hiding it all the time but no more" he counters, pointing both you and Pedro. You feel the space getting smaller, breaths going from even to noticeable. "You are sharing answers"
You try to make your breath of relief pass as a chuckle.
"I'm not even gonna win, relax. And drop the charges, please. Loose like a man"
"You didn't explain it though" Connie speaks. "What did Pedro mean?"
"While I have many movies that are inspiration to me, they aren't the reason I chose this path. I did it because I saw an Oscar's ceremony when I was 11" you explain fondly, feeling warm at the memories. "I still remember when they handed the award to Diablo Cody for best original screenplay. I don't know, man, it moved me. What it meant for young artists who came from nothing. I guess I wanted, one day, to be the one standing there, for other dreamers to see it's possible"
"Wow, that's beautiful" Connie says.
"Thank you" you get flustered. "Suppose it was worth it, you know, to do interviews about not really knowing my cast mates" and laugh.
"How does Pedro know, though?" Joseph asks.
"We talk a lot" you clear your throat. "Last one: what indie horror movie did I make a small appearence in? I'm feeling generous because it's the last so I'll give you a clue. It's a Stephen King adaptation"
Paul is the first to speak. "You where in a-"
"Yeah but it wasn't such a huge role. Don't make yourself any ideas"
"I have no idea" Connie surrenders. "Other clue, as in how many words?"
"It doesn't even have any words" you laugh. "You give up? It's 1922. Was an extra as well. Made me think Netflix had my name highlighted in the extra call sheet, because I did so many minor and background roles during that year. Grateful, though, because now I get to be Rome's empress and not fortune teller or highschool #6"
The interview ends, and the camera may or may have not captured the last seconds, Pedro's gaze fixated with you the entire time.
elysyannemimi: we all saw that right? GET PEDRO AND Y/N IN A ROMCOM ❗THEIR CHEMISTRY IS INSANE❗ at0michips: love paul and y/n so much 😭😭 gimme enemies to lovers RN ㅤㅤbobgirllll: at0michips wait what if paul and y/n are secretly dating 😳 ㅤㅤann-gell: bobgirllll quick question are u dumb unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they're married. it has to be. trust me ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess BESTIE U ARE BACK
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You arrived in London today. The premiere will be in a few days, and things have been, well, hectic.
Lux couldn't stop talking all the plane ride, but your mind kept going back at the email your manager had sent you before you had boarded the plane.
It's catching upon you, read the haunting message. Attached below, a TMZ article that claimed a regular church attendee had seen you both getting married. It also used a lot of the noise fans had been making on social media, connecting dots or just hyping up the undeniable chemistry. It ended with a little paragraph saying it was obvios, and they're just hoping you'd confirmed it.
You came to realize you didn't care about it anymore. Sure, the pushing around annoyed you, but the thought of still keeping your marriage under wraps feels pointless now. Why wouldn't you shout to the world how in love with your husband you are?
Yet, when you arrive at the hotel, you keep the same protocol of arriving after Pedro, who has already checked in with two keys, claiming its for him and his sister, while you ask for the key to Lux's actual room. After you swipe cards with her, you head over the room you'd be sharing with your husband.
His face appears in your frame, everything happening quickly.
"Get inside. Now"
Your body is dragged inside the hotel room, not even giving you time to swipe the key for yourself.
"Pedro!" you exclaim, between surprised and confused. "What the hell is your problem?"
"Did you read it?"
"What? The article?" your tone is filled with annoyance. "Yes, I did. Why?"
"What do you mean why?" he snaps, voice raising higher. "Don't play dumb with me. You know fans have fuelled the rumors, and tabloids have started digging every corner in fucking California"
"So, what? You're acting as if people finding out is the worst thing in the world" you roll your eyes.
"It is, yes!" Pedro bursts out, caving in to the stress.
It feels like you've been hit across your face.
"Excuse me?" you seethe, hurt etched all across your features. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to admit you're married to the person you supposedly love the most?"
"I love you, y/n. It's just-"
His voice softens, trying to reach for you, yet you pull back, his hand falling to his side in an akward manner. He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed.
"I love you" he repeats, sounding much more sure this time.
Your frame seems smaller as your voice comes out hoarse, filled with emotion, appearing to be in the brink of tears:
"Then why do you act like you're embarrassed of me?"
He hates himself for making you feel this way, making you think things that aren't true.
"I don't. Never" he emphasizes. Then, tries to reach once again when you move a little bit closer to him, recognizing that's your way of letting him know you're ready. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me, don't ever think the opposite" then he sighs, heavy. "I'm just scared"
You silently ask him to explain, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his tattoo.
"You're so young, and I'm, well- I know we're aware of it, but people are cruel and the press is ruthless. I don't want to see your name dragged across the mud because you decided to marry me. Your career is starting, and I'd never forgive myself is something happened to you because of me. Not trying to make this about me, yeah? But this industry is fucked up. You've work hard to get to where you are, and it'll be unfair if you'd loose it. I'm scared because us..." he wavers, words trailing off. "I want us to be. I wouldn't want to live in a world without you, i-it would kill me not to have you be my wife"
You desperately want to kiss off the worry on his face, but let him finish.
"N-not saying our love is weak, or anything! That a couple of opinions or tabloids will- you know? Just, I-I don't want them to break us apart. Mi vida, you're the light of my life. Please, forgive me, I-"
He feels his throat closing up, words failing to come out. You sense the grip on your hand to be stronger, immediately letting loose of it.
"Hey. C'mere" your voice is tender, allowing him to bury his face in your stomach as you comb his messy curls with your fingers. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere"
He lets himself melt under your touch, his mind loosing itself in the soft of your digits and your perfume up his nostrils. He's again breathing normaly, hands now hugging your waist.
"There you go. Better?" Pedro nods, still not being able to talk. "That's okay, take all the time you need. We have all day"
"Do we?" he raises his view, his eyes soft yet there is something else to the brown shade.
You hum as to nod. "We agreed to join Lux for dinner. It's barely 1pm"
"Tell me you're thinking it too" his voice cuts throughout the air, boucing off the tapestry on the walls.
You laugh, nervously. "I don't think I do"
"Hmmh, I see" he stands up, towering over you. "You sure you don't?"
"You sure you want this?"
Before you know it, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, cutting off all words to be said. What a waste of air, anyway. You are quick to reciprocate, whimpering against his lips.
Pedro picks you up like you're as light as a feather, his arms flexing as he carries you and places you on the bed, frame hovering over yours. He breaks the kiss to breath, but you're pulling him back in, his hold on your hips tighter and the wet spot in your panties wetter.
"Look at you, pretty baby. So needy" he whispers against your face, hot breath lingering above your lips. "And mine. Mía. Only mine"
"I am, yes. Yours only. Need you so bad right now, papi" you answer in a rush. "Now shut up and fuck me"
"Con gusto" he chuckles darkly, "gotta keep the wife happy"
"Happy wife, happy life" you recite, stripping him off of his plain shirt, revealing his toned torso, bulging biceps defined by the movements. You gulp. "Fuck, papi. Gotta thank Marvel for this. I love all of your versions, but I can work with this too" you dreamily stare at him, your hands cupping his face.
He strips the rest of his clothing, but a cute blush adorns his cheeks.
"Yeah, well, it's Scott's fault too"
Your impatient fingers reach the middle of your panties to rub your clothed pussy, letting out a sound that darkens his hazel orbs.
"Fuck that guy" you mutter. Pedro laughs.
"Thought you said you loved the guy"
"Until I learned what he said about your body" you groan, still rubbing. "Connie told me"
His hands now travel to remove your clothes, almost ripping them off.
"Who cares? I just want to fuck you now" he breathes out, practically drooling at the sight of your damp panties. "Lemme take this off too"
He unhooks your bra, seeing the hard nipples. The urge to lick them is so bad, but his desire to fill you silly to the brim is stronger.
You see his hesitation, which is why you grab him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, labored breaths as he struggles to focus on your lips, his wet mouth darting to your jaw, neck and collarbones. His hands roam all over your body, needy.
"Gotta be inside of you, mami. Can't wait any longer"
"Then stop waiting" you plead, tugging at his boxers with urgency.
Seeing you so cockhungry, lips parted and pupils blown wide makes his hard dick twitch with anticipation.
He mutters a labored fuck, aligning himself to enter your sticky folds. Pedro enters your tight pussy with a low groan, burying himself deep inside of you, used to his length by now. You're basically begging for it, nails digging and eyes supplicating.
He can't deny you anything, can he?
A messy whine leaves your widened mouth as you adjust, pleasure mixed with pain.
"Mhmm" you moan.
"Mhmm what?" he mocks. "You asked for it. Now take it, cariño"
He thrusts deeper into you, watching in awe how his dick enters your pussy; it was always perfectly, your pussy made for him.
"You're drippin' baby" his rough voice caresses your cheek. He kisses the are, giving a lick to the sweat starting to form. "S'fucking tight too"
You move your hips towards him, trying to augment the friction. The overstimulation starts to cloud your sense, reducing you to a whiny mess as you grip his steady arms.
"I can't think of anything but you, baby" he confesses between grunts, "filling up your pussy to the brim, you dripping with my seed for days"
You moan at the filthy words.
"Love how you take my dick, amor" stretching you as Pedro moves in and out. "S'made for me"
"Yes" you moan, skin slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. "Fuck, I love your dick..."
His pace picks up, and it comes to a point where he's just fucking you silly, his grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise as you keep spilling obscene sounds of pleasure from your lips.
"Your pussy's mine, yeah? No one else gets to have you like this"
"N-no, just you, Pedro. My h-husband" you manage to squeeze, more moans vocalizing the pleasure you felt with each thrust, his big dick inside of you moving in a a steady rhythm, making your eyes roll back further and orgasm closer.
Your breasts bounce with each thrust, and he finds impossible to resist the urge anymore, licking the sensible skin and hard nipples, your hands moving to his back, scratching him harshly, both chasing your release.
"Please!" you whine out loud, not caring how desperate you sound.
Harder. Faster. Rougher.
But your husband knows you, so he indeed starts to fuck you harder, heavy breaths and slippy kiss noises hanging in the spaces between each thrusts. He pants with every motion of his dick, a knot forming on his belly.
"Shit, baby. I think I'm gonna cum. Gonna come so hard"
"Do it. I'm on birth control, remember?" you groan, feeling your high approach as well. "Fill me up, please. Give me all your cum"
Your bodies move as one, precise thrusts hitting exactly that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, chasing your orgasm. For a brief moment, your eyes lock with his and then he's saying:
"I love you, y/n. So much"
Your heart skips a bit, his dick twitching inside as his gaze glimmers with adoration and possesiveness, teeth grazing your skin with marks for him to call you his.
"I love you too, Pedro. More than you know"
A final thrust is delivered. Fuck, feels so good you think you hear him say. Just like promised, he fills you with his release, shots of his thick, warm cum inside your sticky walls. You follow soon, back arching, toes curling, and both head and eyes rolling back. Pedro falls on top of you, his broad body collapsing over yours, as you both pant hard, trying to steady your pulse and breath. He then removes himself and positions you to be the one on top now, lazily throwing the covers over your bare bodies. We need to shower, you said, but he argued you'd do it later before going out.
"I needed that" and you happily hum in agreement at your husband's dragged out words.
Your head falls and rises, with the movement of his chest, silence settling on the previously filled with sex noises room. That until he speaks up:
"One day, I'm gonna fill you up so good until you have my babies, mami" he murmurs, just then realizing what he said. But you snuggle closer, hand and legs drapped over his bare body. You look at him closely, seeing nothing but certainty on his eyes.
I choose you. I'll always choose you.
"Whatever it is with you" your nose brushes his, a small sweet kiss on his lips, "I want"
His eyes shine, probably with tears or the glow of affection.
"Let's do it"
"What?" you look into his eyes for any sign of doubt, bull all you see is love. "Pedro, are you serious?"
He nods. "Wouldn't you want that?"
You feel the corner of your lips pull up.
"Never have I wanted anything more"
poppysplayground: Y/N AND PEDRO RED CARPET DEBUT AT THE LONDON PREMIER OF GLADIATOR II WTF I JUST WOKE UP ptwt is in SHAMBLES mostannoyingbillioner: UM HELLO pedro showing up with two hot women on his arms LUX GIMME A CHANCE pompeiianbollockr: WAIT WDYM THEY ARE MARRIED?!??! ALL THIS TIME?@?#? HOW???! NEED BIGGER CAPS TO SCREAM I'M GOING INSANE at0michips: that article better come out now or i'll burn the TMZ building ann-gell: not me thirsting for a married man 😭😭😭 how they kept this a secret for so long?? we should've noticed ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: ann-gell i did. knew betting my grandma was the way all along ㅤㅤpyramiidsf: i'm gonna start betting my grandma too
#dilfistwrites#gladiator II#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro x reader#pedro pascal fluff#taylor swift#reputation#call it what you want#paul mescal#call it what you want series
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... carried flower petals
pt 2 to this
notes: I AM. such a bad writer. help. going through double the stages of grief on this one. who even cares. who even gaf! i don't. im winning in the dgaf wars. (lying)
samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader NSFW! w/ m/f sex. no i did not proofread this. this isn't a flex i actively just squinted trying not to look too hard at my own writing. this is also hoshina pov word count: 2415
hoshina supposes that he couldn’t blame you for your reaction. there was no way you would have been happy about marrying him, a complete and utter stranger–no matter how many times you might have met prior. and in the three times you’d met, he’d tried to keep his distance. there was an aura of deep discontent about you, and he didn’t want to disturb you, for fear that your anger would turn darker.
at least, until you pulled a dagger on him.
the dagger that he’d gifted you, no less.
or, well–he hadn’t gifted it to you directly. he had selected the gift, but it had come alongside the marriage offer–and so hoshina wondered if you’d conflated the dagger as something utterly negative. when he’d picked out the dagger, he’d vowed it to keep you safe from harm. a selfish well-wishing on his part, sure–as a samurai, he was bound to make enemies that could hurt you.
he raises a hand to his neck, touching where you might have slashed him.
would he have let you?
he brings himself to his feet as the sliding door to his room opens. you stand in the doorway, dressed in a simple nightgown–a far cry from the garments you wore during the ceremony.
his mind flits back to them, for a moment–you’d chosen to wear pure white, contrasting him in his black haori and hakama. your expression had been severe, distant even then. you’d followed your new attendants into the quarters of your new housing within the hoshina clan’s home to change out of your wedding attire, and you hadn’t met his glance once.
you bow your head.
“your attendants tell me you’re quite the talent in bed,” you say, your voice crisp. your eyes meet his, your gaze unreadable. his eyes flick to your hands, folded neatly in front of you–and yet your fingers are fidgeting ever so slightly, a possible indication of just how nervous you were.
hoshina can’t help but laugh.
“is that what they say? my mother can’t help but find people that run their mouths…” hoshina runs a hand through his hair. “sit. i can’t have my wife–” the word still felt foreign to him–wife, he was really a husband, was that even a moniker that fit him?–but he swallows his misgivings, pats one of the cushions next to the futon. “–standing for so long. it would be unfitting.”
“so are you?” you gather your kimono, sitting down.
hoshina hums.
“if i tell you, would you see me differently?” hoshina asks.
“well. you’re my husband,” you say. the corners of your lips twitch when you say the word husband, your brow furrowing a little bit as you say it. a clear show of your definite displeasure. “i have to… accept it, after all. as your wife. hell, your attendants tell me that you were in the process of courting concu–”
“ahh,” hoshina leans his head back. “so is that what that’s all about?” he sighs, a strange, tightening pressure forming somewhere in his throat. the marriage acceptance hadn’t been on his end. it’d been his father’s, much to his mother’s chagrin. you were from a no-name clan, having long lost your family’s relevance. his mother had complained about your family’s name dragging down the hoshina family’s name.
but as hoshina reminisced–he couldn’t give a damn about his family name.
his brother–his proud, arrogant, stubborn, awful brother–had made his opinion on their family name very clear, by just leaving.
hoshina did resent him for it, just a little. it just meant that he couldn’t run away, now.
“no. the concubine rumor’s bullshit,” hoshina says. “quite honestly, i couldn’t be bothered. i’m not in the interest of producing my family an heir.”
“huh?” you ask, sounding confused. “but–” “i mean. the sex is fine,” hoshina says candidly, placidly. “and if the family gets an heir, we get an heir. but it’s never been my concern. i think you ought not to worry about it, either. our families need each other. it’ll be reason enough for you to stay.”
you stare at him, perplexed for the moment, before your brow also furrows.
“so, you… don’t, want—”
“mm. you pulled a knife on me last time we talked,” hoshina teases as he begins to undo his ponytail. “i thought that made your opinion on me fairly clear. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable if you don’t want it. my folks won’t be happy, but there’s nothing like lying that can’t fix that.” he runs a hand through his hair. “so it’s your call.”
you watch him.
“it’s fine,” you say. you lean in closer to him, and he simply watches you—watches you like he did on the first day the two of you met, watches you like he did when you raised the dagger to his throat. always watching, waiting for you to make the first move.
“i’d rather just get it over with,” you say. “the first time.”
“mm. as you command, then,” hoshina says.
when he leans in to kiss you, he does it slowly. you taste faintly of the sake you drank during the marriage ceremony, though the alcohol has long worn off.
he wishes he could take you apart more cleanly. to take you apart with intention. he can draw the lines from the veins in your wrist to the beating, fluttering of your heart in your breast. you kiss him with your eyes open, as if you’re watching for his every movement. he supposes that he’s watching you, too, trying to see what you’ll do. what you like.
“are you just going to kiss me?” you murmur, something like spite in your voice. “or are you actually going to show me something interesting?”
“interesting?” he pulls back from the kiss, raising an eyebrow.
“i’ve read all the woodcuts,” you say. “as apparently was my duty as your wife. i was just wondering if there was anything more interesting than that.”
“mm. you can’t possibly learn what it feels like through reading alone,” hoshina says. “experience is the best teacher.”
“big talk,” you retort. hoshina almost hates the way his heart flutters at your words, entranced by you. one hand reaches out to touch your face, the other hand gently reaching down to undo your obi as he pulls you closer to him, letting you straddle his lap.
“i’m afraid most of my lovers say i’m a talkative one,” hoshina purrs. “but i hope you’ll find me satisfactory.” when he leans in to kiss you again, your sash falls gently onto the ground, and the inner layers of your kimono come undone.
he’s had no small share of lovers—or, well, general brothel experience, he supposes. he’s a man in the end—a samurai from a family of renown, for whom many lovers might have found him appealing simply for how much money he was willing to pay for good service. but he knows what he’s doing, in any case.
he revels in it, though—at how responsive and jittery you seem to be. the faintest touch of his hand against your skin is enough to make you jolt out of your skin, and you whimper ever so slightly as his fingers pull at a nipple, and he feels your pulse jump in your throat as his teeth graze at your neck. he feels you shift against him, attempt to press your thighs together and he laughs.
he’s surprised there, too—the way you shudder when he laughs, as he’s pressed against you.
when his fingers seek between your legs, he’s thrilled, but still surprised to find the telltale sign of slick.
“mm. this wet already, really?” hoshina teases. his hand brushes against your inner thigh, coaxing you to spread your legs a little more, and he feels your leg twitch against the shift of his knuckles. “you’re desperate.”
“as if.” your breath sounds shuddery, and hoshina laughs, not meanly. he wonders how he could take you apart—could he use just his mouth? his fingers? the mere suggestion of touching you, just using words alone? he wanted to know, desperately so. desperately in the same way he wanted to know your heart, if only you’d let him. but in the meantime, he smiles—and it’s more of a smirk.
he takes his fingers to his mouth, sucking the wetness from his fingers, and he revels in the way you flush, a half-scandalized and half-flustered sound escaping your mouth.
“it’s alright,” hoshina says, teasing.
“i don’t—need you to tell me it’s alright,” you say, flustered. “i just—”
“less talking from you,” hoshina says, fondly. gently. he’s entranced by you, the swell of your breast and the way your skin flushes red from your neck to your collarbones. he wishes he could sink his teeth into your pulse—or would you give him your beating heart, let him devour the tender organ? “you’re doing wonderfully. do you feel up for more?”
you pause, biting your lip. he marvels at the way your fingers twitch against his in anticipation, and your brow furrows.
“let—i want to be on top,” you say, and hoshina simply smiles.
“alright,” he acquiesces. “i’m all yours.”
that much was true. he was learning far too quickly that he was very much a man that would follow you anywhere, that he was at your beck and call.
you help him undress with shaking hands, pulling his belt away and pushing the kimono from his shoulders. your hands stop for a moment as you survey his chest—hoshina watches your face, propped back and leaning back on his hands. your fingers press against a deep scar against his chest, and your eyes meet his.
“long story,” hoshina says softly. “not the kind i’d tell my wife on our first night together, anyhow.”
your hand gently touches his cock and he hisses, practically, wincing at how it feels like too much and not much at all. it takes most of his discipline to not rut up into the touch, to let himself be taken by that pleasure. you gently push him back, letting him lie back against the futon.
as you lower yourself slowly onto his cock, hoshina watches as your fingers flex against his chest, your eyes squeeze and your toes desperately curl. he shifts his hips a little bit, and you whimper.
“don’t tease,” you keen.
“m’not.”
hoshina thinks it’s quite the opposite, really. he’s a patient man, but not this patient. you’re about halfway down his cock at this point, slowly taking him in bit by bit—and then his patience just snaps somehow when he hears you whine again. not in a bad way—just in a he’ll fucking die like this, he’s sure kind of way.
you gasp immediately as he thrusts up, causing you to bottom out. your hips meet his, and you lean your head back, a loud and desperate moan leaving your lips.
“y-you awful man,” you moan out, something like a pout in your tone. “i wanted to take my time—”
“mm—hm. sorry,” hoshina teases, not quite apologetic at all. his voice strains a bit—you feel almost like a fire, your cunt desperately squeezing against his cock. “just don’t think i’ll last long with you squeezing me like this. does it feel that good?”
your face flushes, your hair plastered to your forehead.
“shut up.”
“i’ll take that as a yes, then,” hoshina says, unrepentant in the way he thrusts up into you, reveling in the way you respond to each movement with tiny little whimpers that stretch into longer and longer cries. you don’t say his name, but he finds himself uncaring for the moment. does he wish you’d say his name? does he wish, however selfishly, that this moment might burn itself into your memory?
surely he doesn’t. it would be unbecoming of him to ask that much.
your hand leans out, digging into his skin, and he lets out a soft, raspy breath, taking your hand into his.
“‘m close,” you whimper out through shaking breaths, and hoshina’s heart squeezes again, at the way your hips cant against his, as if each touch almost hurts, but you can’t help but continue to press your hips against his, trying to find more traction. hoshina smirks, his free hand reaching out to thumb at your clit, flicking upwards, and tries to see if he can memorize the way you seize up against him, the way you squeeze down on his cock–tries to see if he can memorize every twitch.
he hopes he can.
you cum soon after, and your hand digs into his so hard that he wonders if you might be able to break his fingers one day–and hopes that you can. he holds you tightly against him, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm as you whimper tiny uh, uh, uhs–until you wince.
“hurts, i–please,” you say, and hoshina takes pity on you for the moment, pulls out, and strokes soothingly at your face. your chest heaves, and hoshina thinks he could get lost in your every motion. as hoshina shifts to move away–he’d rather prioritize your comfort over his in the end, so despite the fact that he was hard to the point it almost hurt, he figured he’d just deal with it on his own—you shift up.
“but you–you didn’t,” you say after a moment, grabbing his wrist.
“hm?” hoshina hums. “mm. don’t worry about me, dear. i’m more than capable of–fuck, you–” his voice halts right as your hand wraps around his cock, your thumb grazing over the head of it ever so gently. “fuck. you-you don’t have to–”
“please,” you say, something like disdain–or spite? or something, he really couldn’t tell–in your voice. “i can do this much.”
he cums embarrassingly fast–the mixture of being so strung out at this point, so strangely affected, enamored by you–and he can’t help but laugh. he wants to press his face into your collarbone, but he can’t bring himself to cross the distance. he hums, instead, simply exhaling through his teeth for a moment.
“get some rest,” hoshina says. he watches as your face shifts ever so slightly–and he wishes he knew you better, if only so he could understand what you were thinking.
“alright,” you say.
hoshina fears he’s in love.
but the part of him that knows better says he shouldn’t be. he watches silvery moonlight paint the planes of your back, and you turn away from him, lost in sleep.
he sighs.
#kaiju no 8#soshiro hoshina#soshiro hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro x reader#kaiju no 8 x reader#x reader#kn8 x reader#kn8 smut
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𓆩☆𓆪 | 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵 ⸺ ⚞𝙴𝚁𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚃𝙷 ⚟
⸻ synopsis ⫸〖 when your home gets flooded out by a bad storm, it's only right for sheriff erwin smith to help you out, right love?〗
⸻ warnings ⫸ sm*t. fluff. minors do not interact. part ii of the gold rush anthology. sheriff!erwin. bar-owner!reader. canon-age Erwin. reader is in her late twenties, or early thirties, however, you wanna see it. afab reader. female reader. black-coded reader. soft-dom!erwin. fingering. squirting. titty-sucking. full-nelson position (yes, can you tell I have a fantasy that I really wanna do?) soft-dom!erwin. he's also really stressed out in this. he also calls you "love" all the time. he also calls you a good girl during this as well. friends-to-lovers. p*rn with plot.
⸻ writers note ⫸ lol much like reiner's this took me like two months to write. y'all better pray it don't take me that long to do eren's or we're gonna have a problem!! I just hope you all enjoy this.
⸻ word count ⫸ 7.0k.
masterlist. | previous part in the anthology | next part in the anthology |
The bar was empty, the kitchen cleaned up, and all quiet as well. The air that once smelled of cheap beer and grease now began to fade into the smell of night dew and wet sand. You stood behind the bar, wiping down the few wet glasses to put away. Glancing out the door, seeing the moon and stars glowing against the midnight sky, sighing as your mind faded back to the events before. Back to the way Erwin and his men had rushed out of here. It has been chaotic for the people within this town. For the past two weeks, those bandits had been ravaging the town, escaping with no trace within the wind. You had overheard their frustrations from both the police force and Garrison boys and how they evaded their every movement. Wiping your wet hands against your dress, turning around to do a final count of the beer stocked behind you. It was a hassle, always being the last one, but you knew no one else could leave your bar the way you do. As you did so, you suddenly heard the door creak and swing open. Gasping, jumping in slight shock, grabbing the closest thing to you before a familiar voice hissed through the air.
The very same man you were thinking about stomped right through the bar, face red, grumbling in anger. He wasn’t wearing his hat, probably left it at the office as he trampled on through. His bronze-brown vest was unbuttoned, showing off his buttoned-down shirt stained with sand and dirt stains. The smell of wet mud, rain, and sweat hit your nose but you said nothing as he made his way towards you, sitting right down at one of the bar stools. He let out a loud groan, reaching up, losing the scarf he tied around his neck. You let out a breath, not saying a word as you turned right back around, going to one of the beer barrels. Filling it with the one he drinks the most, before sliding it to him. Not missing a beat, he took the tall glass, downing most of it in one go.
“Thank ya kindly, love,” he said, slamming the glass down on the table.
“Don’t go and break my glass, Erwin,” you joked, taking the glass and going to fill it.
“My apologies, and no need for more, I’ll be too dizzy to head back home.”
You hummed, before lifting the glass up, sipping down the little you had already poured back into the cup. Erwin said nothing, watching as you licked your lips, shuddering slightly at the taste of the bitter wheat alcohol.
“I don’t know how you boys can be drinking that shit all day,” a grimace took over your face.
Erwin smirked, “it’s an acquired taste, could say the same thing about the fancy lil wine you’re always drinking.”
You rolled your eyes at that, smirking, “alright now Erwin..”
Rinsing and washing the glass, before taking the damp rag and wiping it down. Back facing towards him, you spoke once more.
“Assuming from your attitude, you don’t have any good news about them bandits?”
Almost immediately, you could feel his mood dampen. He groaned, hearing sink further into the table. You glanced back at him, finding both of his large hands covering his face in further frustration.
“I’m assuming that’s a no,” you said.
He let out a softer sigh, before pushing himself up once more, looking at you as you shuffled around, still facing the back of the bar.
“They’re tricky lil things, constantly evading my men,” he sighed, groaning as well as he sat up fully.
“We chased 'em down to the big forest all the way out there, but we lost' em. Still don’t know how, not like there’s many places to hide up there. We even checked the big cave over there as well and all the possible trees they could hide in.”
Sighing, you placed the glass down with the rest of them before turning around and facing him fully. You leaned over the table, pressing your abdomen against the shiny wood. Using your free hand, you placed your pad on his cheeks, your longer fingers reaching his blond hair, while your thumb stroked his cheek. You could feel his smile form against your hand, smiling soon after that.
“Kirstein’s been on my ass about finding them, they took a lot of his equipment and it was real expensive for him to buy new ones in the city. Told him to sell his wife’s jewelry and he looked at me like I got two cow heads.”
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your lips, thinking about Jean waving his fist over at Erwin, before speaking, “You can’t catch em all Erwin in one night, plus them robbers real sneaky too. First we’ve ever seen someone like this. It’ll be alright, m’kay?”
He nodded his head, and you soon moved your hand, lifting your body upright once again. He glanced around the bar, seemingly noticing that there was no one else there but him. He glanced over at you as you placed the wet rag on the rack hanging from the counter, before stepping out from behind it. Erwin watched you begin slowly turning off the lights hanging around the bar, dimming down all the lanterns.
“Lemme walk you home, love. Can’t have you out here at night like this.”
You couldn't suppress your smile as you dimmed the last lantern, nothing but the low light of the moon peeking through the door surrounding, darkness swallowing you two whole.
You sighed, walking back to the bar to grab your bag, “if by home, you mean the motel across town then yeah.”
Turning around, jumping at the sudden tall figure right in front of you. He peered down at you, eyes slightly wide.
“What you mean by that, love? Why you staying in a place like that?” He asked you.
Letting out a shaky breath, and taking a step back. Erwin was close, so close that it had your heart suddenly palpated a bit, heat suddenly flashing through your body.
“Um..” your mind went blank for a bit, before resetting, “that storm a few nights ago put me out, my roof and walls leaking so I grabbed what I could and ran down to the motel. Was soaking wet when I got there too.” You slightly snorted at that last part but Erwin’s face didn’t change at all.
“Now why didn’t you tell me about this? I could have helped you?”
You crossed your arms, taking a deep breath to help calm yourself just a bit, “and do what? You and the entire damn force were worried about those bandits. You know I don’t wanna be a bother, Erwin.”
His large, coarse came up to your face, pressing it against your cheek. Your heart kicked back up as he took a step closer to you, stomping over the distance you had put between the two of you.
“Now you know you could never be a bother to me, love.”
You couldn’t help the smile, looking up into his usually icy blue eyes, hardened from years on the job, that now had a softened look to them. You couldn't help but use your free hand, reaching up and placing it on top of his own. The two of you smiled at each other, before dropping your hands at the same time. Erwin turned around, heading towards the opened door together.
“I don’t feel comfortable with you staying in the motel, especially with these bandits running around,” he mentioned as he opened the door, holding it open for you.
Sighing, turning around to lock up the bar, “well, what would you have me do Erwin? Everyone else I know is packed full, and I’m not going into the forest late at night. The carpenter’s are stretched thin with everyone else and won’t finish with my place until next week.”
You put your keys back in your bag, turning around to look at him. His face was lowered, eyebrows furrowed in a look of pondering as the two of you walked through the almost silent town. You could hear a commotion in the background, most likely people having their own get-togethers as well.
“You could come stay with me. Until they repair your house of course.”
Your eyes widened, head swinging to look at him. The two of you locked eyes as your heart dropped for a quick moment. Stay… at Erwin’s place…? You shuffled a bit as you thought upon the idea, the idea of you two sharing a space for at least a week. Just for a quick moment, a flash of a much more, racy sight of him had your heart pounding a mile a minute.
“I really don’t wanna put you out like that Erwin,” you spoke up, shuffling and looking away from him, trying your best to be still with your beating heart
Cool hands reached out to your chin, pulling your head up to look at the 6’2 man.
“Now what did I just say, love? You could never be a burden to me, and you could never put me out.”
With no other words, his other hand reached out, sliding your bag out of his hands before swinging it over his shoulders. He began walking ahead of you, taking a few steps before looking back at you. He jerked his head, motioning for you to follow him. With no other words, softly smiling as you turned and walked towards him, the two of you walking in step as you walked through the town. Despite the sheriff's office being in the center of town, Erwin preferred to live a bit of the way in the opposite direction away from the forest. He likes being near the main entrance of the town, just in case something happens. As you were halfway there, a large gust of sudden cold wind blew past the two of you, causing you to shiver a bit. Your arms crossed each other, your hands stroking them to create some kind of heat. Erwin must have noticed your actions as all of a sudden, you heard a ‘plop’ before a weight fell upon your shoulders. Looking around, you saw the jacket Erwin was wearing draped across your shoulders. You looked up at him, noting him pointedly not looking back down at you as he continued walking. You let off a small smile, snuggling into the warm jacket, sounding off a soft “thank you” before continuing to walk behind him.
The two of you soon got to his home, a simple two-story house given to him by the townspeople, a thank you for all that he does. You followed behind him as he fished for his keys out of his pockets, unlocking the door and pushing it open as he did so. He gestured for you to enter his home first, stepping out of the way for you. Soon after, he walked in behind you, closing the door behind you as you stood in his dark living room. He carefully slid past you, his hands reaching out to your waist to stabilize you easily as he walked over to a corner. Soon the room began to illuminate, allowing you to look at the quaint and simplistic living room. There was barely anything in the living room, a simple couch, a table along with a record sitting in the corner. Erwin straightened himself before turning around and walking abc towards you.
“Let me take you to where you’ll be resting your head, love.”
He took you by the hand, causing you to gasp as he took you towards the stairs, which you hadn't noticed right near the front door. He guided you up the stairs, your bag still sitting and swinging on his shoulders. Coming up to the second floor, he took you down a hall before pushing a door open. You tilted your body behind him, peeking into the place where he led you. It was a bedroom, presumably the place where you would be resting your head for the next week or so. It was simple, a bed on a wooden stand with a night drawer right beside it. You followed behind him as he placed the bag right onto the bed before turning around.
“This is one of the guest bedrooms, mainly for Levi whenever he comes into town, but he’s busy working on another case.”
You blinked, nodding along as he explained where some of the things are.
“The bathroom is the door right here,” he said, gesturing to the only other door in the room.
There was also a huge dresser, instead of a closet which was fine as well, better for you since you wouldn't be staying for long anyways
“There’s one more guest bedroom down the hall, but it’s unfurnished so it's just full of boxes. So the only other room you’ll see up here is my own room.”
You turned towards him smiling, eyes welling up with tears of appreciation, “thank you again for this Erwin, you really didn't have to.”
He approached you, his long arms reaching out holding you on the shoulders, “how many times do I have to tell you, it's not a problem, love. Now, make yourself at home.” He said, before letting your shoulders go.
He gave one last smile, before walking towards the door, opening it, and walking it out. The moment he left, you let out a sigh of relief, fanning off the sudden heat of nervousness from your face. You crossed the room, sitting on top of the bed before reaching for your bag. This was all you had brought with you when you left your home, most of your things water-damaged from the storm. You unzipped it, before sifting through all your clothes and things before pulling out a few night dresses that weren’t damaged.
The rest of the night was uneventful, taking a shower to wash off the smell of alcohol and food on my body before slipping under the cool sheets. Despite the obvious unused in the room, the sheets still smelled fresh, like they were recently cleaned. You smiled, relishing in the soft feeling, unlike the itchy blankets over at the motel.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ��────── ·
It had been three days since you had taken solace in Erwin’s home, and the two of you found yourself in comfortable waters so easily. At first, it was nerve-wracking being in such close proximity to him, but you soon found it easier the more he reassured you. He had shown you around in the morning after you had arrived, before personally walking you back to the bar to open up for the day. He would meet you at the end of the day, even if he had night duty, to walk you back to the house as well. His pure actions and gestures only made you yearn and pine for him more.
As you stood in his kitchen, the bar closed up early to account for the sudden curfew the mayor had just put out. You knew Erwin was working hard and late nights, you would hear him come in late at night sometimes, your mind only tuning into his heavy footsteps creaking against the wood floors before falling back into your heavy sleep. And like clockwork, he would get up at the same time as you, to walk you to the bar. He would come in when it closed to walk you home before heading back to his office as well. You knew it was weighing over him, all this responsibility to bring peace back to your town, where more and more people were coming in from the city to experience the rush happening all over.
You glanced over to your left, out the window, where you could see Erwin’s form hunched over, barely illuminated by the light inside the home. Sighing, you closed the pot of stew you were brewing, wiping your hands cleaning with a wet rag before walking out, towards the door. The breeze was blowing slightly, sand sifting out in the distance. The scenery in front of you was enjoyable, much more than what your own home would have to offer. The slight rancid smell of smoke pulled you out of your thoughts. Turning towards your right, seeing the blonde man hunched over the railing, a cigar in one hand, a glass of brown liquor in the other.
“Those things’ll kill you, Erwin.” you spoke out, cutting through the slice of the night.
His head turned slightly towards you, eyes staring right back at you. He smirked, lifting up his cigar before taking another hit.
“This stress’ll kill me before these things do.”
You rolled your eyes, walking towards him, taking the space right beside him. The cigar smoke only smells stronger, so you knew this wasn't his first one of the night. He leaned back suddenly, throwing back the rest of his bourbon, pressing his half-burnt cigar into the railing, making another of what seemed to be numerous burn marks. Glancing behind you, at the small little area Erwin had set up on his porch, you found the bottle of bourbon along with a pack of cigars and another empty glass. You took a step back, grabbing the bottle and the glass before standing right beside him again. You poured yourself one before pointing the bottle towards Erwin, who looked down at the bottle, before holding his own glass out. You poured halfway to his cup, before placing the bottle on the railing beside you.
You turned back towards him, tipping your glass towards him, and Erwin immediately clinked it with yours. You took a sip while Erwin basically downed the whole thing once more. Pulling the glass away, a scowl appeared on your face as you looked at the drink.
“I still don’t know how you people drink this type of shit,” You spoke, reminiscent of when you took a sip of beer a few days ago, leaning down again the railing, holding the glass with two hands.
He chuckled, shuffling closer to you, leaning over the railing as well.
It was silent between the two of you, just taking in the scenery at the moment. The wind was blowing just a little harder than before, the air smelling just a bit humid from the past storms tormenting the town. You could see the Kierstein ranches in the distance, along with the forest where your friend and coworker lived as well.
“Tell me what’s on your mind Erwin, you know I’m worried.”
His chuckle lightly echoed through the almost empty home, facing straight as he pushed himself up, “Hange’s been on me about getting these bandits. Luckily it seems they’ve stopped for now, but we still can't find whatever they’ve stolen. Towns ‘n a riot.”
You knew about the last part, as many angry men walked into your bar, cursing out both the thieves and Erwin for not finding their missing things. You were only lucky that your bar still hadn't been hit yet, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the other bars and pubs around town. You’d honestly never have seen anything like this, the way people have only confirmed three people yet they were able to flip a huge town like this on its head. You move your hand on his face towards his back, rubbing and caressing him trying your best to provide some solace.
“Cut yourself some slack Erwin, there’s only so much you can do in this. I’m sure you are doing all you can.”
He only sighed, leaning back fully, looking up towards his ceiling, “but am I doing enough? There’s something I’m missing in this.” He shook his head, hand reaching up and basically slapping his forehead.
“Fuck, I got a nasty headache,” he mumbled, before suddenly sniffing.
He blinked, eyes furrowed in confusion, before turning back towards you, “you cooking something?”
You blinked, before the smell of char hit your nose, causing you to jump straight up. Squeaking as you raced inside, throwing the door open before running back to the kitchen. You reached the stove, grabbing the pot before moving it to an unused burner kneeling down, disconnecting the gas. You could feel Erwin’s eyes on you as you lifted the pot, sighing in relief as the smell of strong spices and herbs fully filled the air instead of a charcoal-burnt smell. Slowly you turned towards Erwin, locking eyes with his slightly concerned ones.
“Want some soup?”
He smiled before standing up, you tried to tell him to sit down, as you didn't want him to do any to aggregate his said headache even further but he didn’t listen to you. He crossed the kitchen before standing right behind you, placing his hand on your waist as he reached up to the cupboards.
“‘Scuse me, love,” he said, opening the cupboards to bring out two bowls.
His large hand rested right on your waist, letting an almost silent shaky breath as he squeezed it, bringing down the bowls to your level. Your hyperawareness only caused you to ache down there, your thighs squeezing together as he placed the bowls down on the counter. He helped you prepare the dishes, washing his hands before he did so. He grabbed the silverware along with two glasses of water as you ladled the food into the bowls. The two of you carried the food into the living room, rather than the fancy little dining room Erwin barely used. The two of you sat right next to each other, eating away at the late-night dinner you made.
You did your best to keep Erwin’s mind off of work, and it seemed to have worked, the tense furrow on his brow reposting as you spoke of the latest gossip between the townsfolk, what you would hear day by day. How one of your long-time patrons’ had suspicions of his husband cheating, only for his husband and best friend to roll in two hours after he left. People have a lot of audaciousness is what he said after you told him about that.
The soup you cooked soon disappeared between the two of you, along with the glasses of water as you spoke way into the night. Erwin had brought in the bourbon he was drinking, and the two of you shared the bottle, diluting it with water of course. You don’t know how it happened but the space you had put between you and the tall man had slowly decreased. Your thighs touching, shoulders grazing each other, the two of you unconsciously getting closer.
“Oh, you got a little something here, love,” Erwin suddenly said, cutting into your giggles.
Before you could say anything, his hand suddenly reached out to your face, his large hand cupping your face.
With a slight sharp inhale, you could only look over at the side, seeing his thumb rub away at stains you had not seen from the corner of your eye. Erwin rubbed at it a little harder, but it seemed the smudge wouldn’t go away. He moved closer to you, leveling eye contact with you as his rough hands finally cleaned off the stain. By then, his face and you were so close together, your noses were barely touching. You let off a smile, thanking him for the help. He only smiled at your face, but his hand still rested on your face. Breathing deeply, as you closed your eyes, the scent of his sweat mixed in with his cologne, the smell of smoky vanilla bourbon, and cedar wood, along with the smell of blackened cigar smoke. It didn't deter you though. You could feel his presence get closer to you, the heat of his face radiating into your own.
You opened your eyes just in time as Erwin closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips harshly against your own. You gasped, the sudden intensity catching you off guard, the sudden pressure causing you to stumble back a bit. Reaching up to him, one hand reaching up to his shoulder and the other resting right underneath his jawline. He tasted savory, the lingering taste of your late-night dinner still on his tongue. It didn’t deter you, in fact, you only pushed against him, your panties beginning to soak as his arms reached around you, wrapping and picking you up with ease. He placed you right on his lap, his other hand leaving your face, sliding down your hips to underneath your bottom, cupping it before squeezing gently.
You suddenly let go of the kiss, lips wet as looked down into his blue eyes, which seemed deeper in color than usual. His usual cerulean blues now looked more like royal blue as you pressed your hips against him. You could feel his hard-on pressing up against your panties underneath your thin dress. Your hands reached, running them through his blonde hair. He smirked, lifting his head to look up at you.
“Erwin,” was all you said before he kissed you again.
You were much more ready for his kiss, accepting it with equal pressure. Unconsciously, your hips began to move above him. His gentle squeeze turned brutal as you rutted into him more, your juices beginning to seep into his rough jeans. Your hands soon left his hair, sliding down his neck, your delicate touches only causing him to shiver against you. Your manicured nails soon reached down to his shirt, the first few buttons unfastened already. Unbuttoning the rest, your hands grazed over his muscles, over every ridge and every scar from years on the job. He shivered under you, letting go of the kiss for a quick moment.
“So fucking long,” he groaned, moving up against your ear, “I’ve waited for this.”
Before you could say anything, Erwin cut you off, pressing his wet lips behind your ear, trailing down to your neck. Steadying yourself, digging your nails into his side as he reached your collarbone, nibbling away at it. The aching within you only growing, and sweat beginning to drop down your back, seeping through your thin dress. His head soon dipped to the valley between your breasts as your own hands slid down to his jeans, fiddling with the belt that held them up. Erwin’s large hands left your bottom, reaching under before grabbing at the fabric.
You could hear a stretch, the sound echoing through the room as you gasped, lifting your head to glare at the sudden cool air breeze against your back.
“Erwin! I really liked that dress!”
He only chuckled, seeing the rest of the scraps falling off your body, leaving you and nothing but your drenched panties. He only groaned at the sight, his hands leaving you as they shrugged off his vest, unwrapping his scarf. You assisted him, gliding your hands underneath the sleeves of his shirt, before sliding the shirt off his body. Once off his body. You threw the shirt into an obscure corner, before facing him again. Erwin thumbed at your panties, hooking underneath the waist and thigh band before slowly pulling it down. Your arousal dripped as you clenched around nothing, resting your naked body against Erwin’s half-naked own. Gasping as cool air hit your clit as he pulled your panties down fully, your nails digging into his biceps. The around you was hot as you lifted your legs up as best as you could, helping him slide the clothing off fully of your body.
Seeing as you were fully naked while Erwin was still in his jeans, your hands gently brushed down his arms, reaching to his belt before slowly beginning to unbuckle it. At the same time, Erwin leaned down towards you, lips pressed against your neck. Hands fumbling as you shivered, the feeling of his trailing down your neck, towards your chest. His own hands slide up and around your waist, sliding up your abdomen before reaching your breasts. His large hands reached your breasts, pushing and massaging them. His lips soon wrapped around your hardened nipple, before sucking away at it.
“Fuck,” cursing and gasping as a rush of euphoria shot through you.
The fingers on his other hand squeezed your other nipple slightly, just enough to increase the inciting feeling rushing through you. Your hands slide up, grazing against his slightly scarred back, reaching into his soft, blonde hair before gripping harshly. The sensitivity in your nipples only amplified as he sucked at it. You let out long breathy moans as he teased you, letting out a particularly high-pitched moan as he suddenly pinched and moaned at your free nipple. Soon after he let up, the cool air hit your wet nipple before moving his attention to your other one. His hand slid back down your body, sliding in between your legs, before slowly parting your thighs, revealing your drenched cunt. His long fingers slipped in between your folds, swiping up and down in between them before slowly pressing his finger against your clit.
“Erwin,” you gasped, pulling on his hair, causing him to groan, lips still wrapped around your nipple.
His finger continued to press and slowly rub circles into your clit, collecting the juices that continued to seep out of you. Your hips ground against him, your body aching for more, something else to fill the need trying to build within you. Erwin’s actions taunted you, his finger slipping in between your folds, the tip of his finger teasing the entrance to your hole. Your back curled as he slowly, ever so slowly, pressed his fingers inside of your, your arousal making it easier for him to slip inside of you. Your hips jerked and buckled, craving more and more stimulation. As he moved his finger, his mouth let go of your nipple, before resting his head right on our shoulder, lips lined up with your ear.
“More,” you cried, burrowing your face into his shoulder.
He only chuckled, his raspy chuckle only rousing you further, “you know you have to relax for me,” he mumbled.
Taking a breath, you tried your best to, release the hold you have in his hair, sliding them and crossing them behind his neck, holding him close.
“That’s it,” he murmured, before pressing another finger inside of you, “open up just for me.”
The stretch was slightly painful, but as quickly as the pain came, it went. You cried out even louder against his ear as his thumb pressed against your clit. Erwin’s fingers moved up and down inside of you, just as he began to nibble and kiss along the outer part of your ear, his heated breath only causing you to shiver and shudder against him. You tried to move your hips along the movement of his digits before a loud smack rippled against your skin, the pain heated so gratifyingly against you.
“Stop moving,” his voice was harsh, it caused your heart to skip a beat.
You trembled in his hold, but his voice commanded you, taking charge as your movements suddenly slowed down to a complete stop.
“Good girl,” he groaned before continuing his actions.
You could only whimper as his words, combined with the increasing pace of his fingering only caused the aching feeling building within you to surge and skyrocket. You basically drenched his fingers as he made his way with you, fucking you with his fingers while playing with your clit. Letting a high-pitched moan, you curled over, forehead resting right against Erwin as heat surged up and built within you. Your already quivering body trembles further.
Suddenly, before you could reach that high peak, Erwin suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you shivering, cold and empty. You couldn't help but whine in his arms as he lifted his hands up, his two fingers and his top knuckles covered in your arousal. He soon pressed his hand against his lips, tasting your juices before licking his fingers clean. Once finished, his now-free hand joined his other, gripping your ass. Without warning, he suddenly stood up, his grip around you only tightening to keep you up in the air as you shriek, your arms tightening around his neck and shoulders.
“Erwin—” you shrieked as you were lifted up into the air.
Below you, you could see his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles before looking up to look at him. With no warning, you leaned towards him, capturing him into another kiss as you could feel him lifting the lower part of your body up, readjusting him and yourself. You melted into the kiss, your arms sliding back to allow you to hold his head between your heads. His usual cleaned-up hair was messed up, slightly drenched with sweat. Saliva was exchanged between the two of you, tongues swirling within each other's mouths.
For a moment, you let go of his kiss, lips still pressed against him as you whispered, “I need you inside me, please, please, please, I can’t wait anymore…”
Erwin didn’t say a word, only enrapturing you into another kiss. Eventually, you could feel the tip of his hard-on pressing up against you, parting your inner labia. You let out a restrained moan into his mouth. With no other warning, he pressed on, overwhelming you even further. You abruptly let go of the kiss as you let out an impassioned cry, tongue falling out of your mouth as you brace yourself. The intensity had you convulsing within Erwin’s arms, your shaking legs easily held together by his strong arms. You could hear Erwin grunting and letting off heavy groans as he began to bottom out into you. His motions started off slow, just like his fingering actions before, allowing you to get used to his large size. The heated pressure around adding on to the sweat dripping down your body as Erwin began to move.
“Fuck,” he cursed in your ear.
“Erwin,” you called out his name, laying your head on his shoulder as your face twisted in intensity.
He grunted against you before speaking lowly into it, “Move your head, wanna— fuck— wanna see your pretty face.”
His voice was thick and sweet, like the most delicious chocolate cake, it coaxed you, as you moved your head, your locs brushing to the side as you gazed into his blue eyes. His pace quickened, the wet smacks echoing through the room, adding volume to your already thunderous moans. It was overwhelming, Erwin was overwhelming, a man who commanded the space around him, you couldn't help but succumb deeper and deeper to his glamor. He ravished you, his restraint breaking more and more as he savored your expressions, your sounds, and even the way you smelled. Your juices leaked all over the both of you, his hips plunged into you, the tip of his cock hitting your very core. The two of you bring out the best and worst in each other.
You cried out his name once more, your body lurching against him, “Erwin, ahh—” You were suddenly cut off by your own lewd moan, dripping in lust.
Erwin let off a deep groan disguised as a chuckle as he felt you involuntary clenching around him, the sudden tightening pushing him to a whole new level. His once strong-rhythmic thrust became erratic in nature.
“You gonna come for me, love?” He groaned in your ear, the grip he had on your ass bruise-worthy.
Nodding your head erratically, you only had a moment’s reprieve before your climax came rushing at you at full speed.
“Aaaahhh,” you threw your head back in ecstasy as you went still for a moment, everything tensing over as your orgasm washed over you.
Erwin wasn’t letting up, as overstimulation began to set within you, your recently mind-numbing orgasm not helping you. You could do nothing but hang off for Erwin as he basically used you like a fuck-toy until he had reached his own peak. With a few final grunts, you could feel him spilling inside of you. The room now only echoed with your heavy breaths. Slowly, you opened your eyes, looking at his drenched blonde hair before using what little strength you had to pick up your head. The two of you locked eyes before breaking out into soft smiles. The two of you placed soft kisses on each other, as he turned around before slowly lowering your connected bodies on the couch. He slowly lowered you there before easing himself out of you, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as he did so. You grimaced as you felt your mixed fluids beginning to ooze out of you. You bent down, picking up your panties before sighing at the scraps of your dress on the floor.
The two of you cleaned up, with you walking around in Erwin’s shirt while he stood in nothing but his boxers. He helped you put away the soup, and clean up the bowls you used. Once everything was clean, he dimmed out the latent, swallowing you all in darkness as you waited for him by the stairs. You could see his presence right in front of you, before squealing as he suddenly picked you up, bridal style.
You wrapped your arms around him, before speaking, “you always gonna pick me up like this?”
He hummed, as he made it to the top of the stairs, shifting his body towards his bedroom door. He easily opened it with one hand whilst still holding you up. His room was quaint, with not many decorations, the few you could see were mainly photo frames of him and his team of police officers. Erwin laid you comfortably on the bed, however before he could walk to the other side and join you. A loud knock echoed through the house, jolting the both of you. You looked over at Erwin whose relaxed expression now took on a more hardened one. He walked over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of sweatpants before slipping them on.
“Stay here,” he told you, seeing as you were beginning to push yourself off the bed.
His words were stern and clear, so you sat back against the bed, watching him exit the room. Outside, Erwin walked down the stairs before eyeing his front door. Besides him, he reached into a drawer to pull out his gun. He slowly walked towards the door, slowly placing his hand on the knob before looking through the peephole. Erwin saw the familiar figure, relaxing as he opened the door fully.
Standing on his porch was his secretary, a person he was not planning on seeing until he went in for work the next day.
Erwin placed the gun on the table near him,, “almost thought you were someone else, what are you doing here?”
She let off a little awkward smile before handing him a file, “for you, sir.”
Erwin blinked, before taking the file and flipping through it. The familiar notes and words had Erwin furrowing his brow.
“This is the Kierstein report… Jaeger was supposed to get this for me, yesterday.”
The secretary shrugged her shoulders, “you know Eren was never going to get it done, especially when it comes to Jean. So it was either get it done or get Jean on our ass again.”
Erwin sighed, smacking the file against his head slightly, the migraine that had gone away slowly returning as he thought about his most ambitious officer.
“I’ll have a few words with him tomorrow, get home, go get some sleep.” He called out to her, beginning to close the door not before hearing a noise, resembling a giggle coming from her.
“Oh I’ll definitely get some sleep tonight, I wonder if you will as well.”
Erwin stopped in his tracks, turning back towards his secretary before seeing her point toward his chest. Erwin glanced down only seeing small red and purple bruises littered all over his neck and upper chest. His secretary could no longer hold back their giggles, muffling them with her hand as Erwin felt a flush of heat run through him.
“Just, just get home.” He said sternly, before slamming the door shut.
He waited until he heard steps leading away from his porch before letting out a breath, leaning against his door for a moment.
“Erwin,” your sweet voice called out.
He looked up, seeing you standing at the top of the stairs. He could see the light from the hallway illuminating, allowing him to see you standing there, still in his shirt.
“Everything okay?” you asked, beginning to take a step down.
He nodded his head, before placing the file on his living room table and heading towards the stairs, “Yeah, just someone dropping off a report, I’ll be up soon.”
You nodded your head, fiddling with the buttons before slowly turning your body. He could only stare as you slowly unbuttoned each and every button, before slowly lowering the shirt, revealing the top half of your naked body. You said nothing, only giving him a knowing smirk before walking to the right back to his own bedroom.
Erwin glanced over at the report, before looking back up the stairs where you had just stood before him, enticing him. With no other thought, he left the report on the table before scaling up the stairs, making it to his bedroom, and shutting the door behind him.
taglist: @kanekisfavoritegf @daisynik7 @where-the-blackbirds-sing @nathalunalune @secretanimesimp @kentucky-fried-me @levin4nami @liv-vy @mortqlprojections @invisible-mori @desiray562 @liliorsstuff-blog @sophiiluvvs @magictrump @ventdavi154 @ircngirl @lostinbeidou @missmadness123 @introvered-violinist @dior-fawn @saway4ma @reallongwire @nerdy-simp-7120 @stareatceiling @ehveerivv @zzg0d @custard-exe @phillygraves @rapsgoddess @pumpkin-toffee @theemrsjaeger @sharkiebarkie @jnsa-17 @itmightbejo @chile-im-embarrassed
#˗ˏˋɴᴇᴇꜱɪᴇ’ꜱ ꜰᴀʙʟᴇꜱ ✎ ˎˊ˗#erwin smith smut#erwin smith x reader#erwin smith#erwin smith x black reader#aot x reader#aot smut#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan smut#attack on titan x black reader#aot x black reader#aot x female reader#aot x y/n#aot x poc!reader#attack on titan x female reader#erwin x y/n#erwin x reader#black reader#anime x reader#anime smut#anime x black!reader#x black fem reader#gold rush anthology ⚜️
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Mayybe you could write some headcanons for keegan with.. first time? :^3
Or a short drabble in a similar context, if you want ofc eheh
hii tysm for the request!! i hope you like this cuz i made this as head cannons and a drabble at the end.
FIRST TIME - Keegan Russ X AFAB READER
Notes - i made sure to make the oneshot at the end 500 words exactly 💀🤷🏻♀️
Warnings: nsfw obvi, breeding kink in the oneshot
Summary: Your first time with Keegan is the sweetest thing ever
Keegans already very passionate when it comes to sex
When he learns that its your first time he's almost worried, he asks questions like
"are you sure you want to do this with me?" "I wont rush you" "You want me?"
Things like that, because he feels so honored and special that he'll be the first person to be so intimate with you.
Keegans gonna be getting you ready all evening to begin with.
As I've said in my nsfw hc's, he's a man that loves thighs, and loves whats in between them, so trust he will be eating you out first.
Keegan will be placing kisses on your thighs, making hickeys and basically be impressing his initials on your thighs for only him to see.
Keegans gonna be in between your thighs for a while, lapping at your folds so he makes an agreement to a safe word, just in case it becomes too much for you, and he takes it seriously, because he would never want to make it a bad experience for you.
Keegans going to make sure your not uncomfortable with him
(ik other writers sometimes write that character want to see everything)
thats not Keegan, if you don't want him to touch or see certain things than he wont, and he'll wait for you to be ready, in no way is he even gonna try to convince you to show him something you don't want to.
If your embarrassed about stretch marks at all, he's gonna tell you how its not serious and he loves it, it makes you even more beautiful
by this point he's hard as a rock
So once you guys get to actually taking him
He'll take it slow, however long it takes for you to adjust to his size, he will wait, theres no way he's gonna rush this especially when he feels so snug inside of you.
He will wait for you to tell him if you want more of him inside, if you start saying you might not be able to do this, he's gonna be sliding out as soon as you say it
he will jerk off, or just walk out the room and get you a water bottle so he can just cuddle with you until you feel okay again.
thats if you couldn't do it
on the other hand
At halfway your already begging for all of him inside
Keegans definitely chuckling at your eagerness
But he thinks you look so beautiful and cute under him right now, squirming at his length
Once he's fully bottomed out, he's telling you he'll move when your ready
Once he does start moving, its euphoric for both of you
and if your embarrassed to moan, its going unnoticed by Keegan because he's already moaning and groaning
if you are moaning, he's still moaning either way.
He will place kisses all over your neck, collar bone, face, anywhere his lips can reach
Keegan's already placing you hands on his shoulders because he loves marking, (just like he leaves hickeys on you) he wants you scratching his back, he doesn't even care if you draw blood, if anything he's getting more turned on
he just wants to please you so badly
After care w him is so sweet
He's gonna clean you up very gently,
run you a bath or start up your shower, he'll shower with you if you want him to
He'll get you a bottle of water, snacks if you want them
and then he'll be changing the sheets too
so you guys can go to sleep
he'll rub your back
or he'll have you laid back on the bed as he starts to kiss your thighs again, and eventually fall asleep between your legs
_
He's losing it already, he's always been this way, the minute he finally starts getting his own feeling of pleasure while making another person also feel good, he starts to lose himself and get too rough, he doesn't want to be rough with you, he's trying to be as slow and gentle for you, and make you feel so good, but your so warm, and your walls are squeezing around him so gently but so tightly at the same time, he’s never felt this good with any other girl hes been with.
He doesn't want it to end and he doesn't know how to stop, he could stay here all night, all day, he could be inside you forever if it meant you'd feel this good. Keegan's beginning to get faster, he can barely hear your voice because he's been focusing on where you two connect, and how the noises of squelching are overtaking the room.
You knock him back into reality when your nails start to dig into his skin, “What’d you say sweetheart?” he asks so gently as he continues to go even faster, it's overwhelming, for both of you. You don't even reply, you didn't say anything, he just thinks he heard something because you've been moaning so loudly. “oh,” he says as he gives you another peck on the cheek.
“Maybe one kid won't hurt” He says, your eyes widen a bit, and he chuckles, “im kidding sweetheart” he tells you as you shake your head lightly, at this point he didn't know if he was kidding or not. “I wouldn't be opposed to having your kids” you tell him, which makes his brain go fuzzy.
You; having a swollen stomach and it being his kid, you'd be all his, with all his cum inside of you.
Shit you were making him have new kinks.
“m’I might have to cum in you baby” he moaned as he looked back down at you taking him, now he was getting even faster which you thought was impossible as he was already going so quick. And he was getting rougher, his hands and nails were digging into your hips, he was most definitely going to be leaving so many bruises on you. And he was kissing your neck again, purple bruises beginning to form.
“y’close sweetheart?” he asked knowingly, you couldn't even focus on anything, you were just seeing stars. His thrusts got sloppier as he was about to cum too, he couldn't have thought of anything better if he was being honest.
And then you two came undone together, he pulled out right before, of course it would've been so amazing to see you pregnant with his kid, but he’s sure you said that in the heat of the moment.
“C’mon lets get cleaned up” you said as laid on his side as he moved your hair out of your face, he smiled and let out an airy chuckle as you stared confused. “Who said we were done?”
#oneshot#keegan p russ#call of duty keegan#cod keegan#call of duty#keegan russ x reader#keegan russ#fluff#x reader stories#imagines
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This is for you if you don't think byler is real:
In season 4, there is a scene that Will shows Mike the painting that he made. In the note that El sent Mike she said that Will was making a painting for a “girl” because she doesn't know that Will is gay. She also said that she didn’t know what the painting looked like. On the other hand, in the van scene, Will said that El told him what to paint. Mike knows that Will is lying about the painting, but he still gave Will a smile. The duffers are very smart, so they made the lighting look like hearts in their eyes, trust me, NOTHING with The Duffers is a coincidence. The lighting is really important, even the writers said to pay attention to the lighting. In the scene when El is fighting Vecna is really important to this theory, too. This scene just feels so uncomfy because she is in pain, the lights are flickering, and everyone is worried about El’s safety. Also, why do you think that the directors put Noah [Will] in the background when Mike says “i love you” to El, if it was only about Mike and El, why was Will in the background looking like he didn’t want to even be there??? Will was also the person to push Mike to say “I love you” to El. Mike was also only able to say “I love you” to El after Will gave his speech about his love for Mike under El’s name. You can also tell by El’s face that she knows Mike doesn’t actually love her. You might think that her face was like that because she was in pain, but when Mike says that her Benny’s Burgers shirt swallowed her whole, she smiles. This shows that El does have the ability to smile in that state, she just doesn’t because she can tell that Mike is not at all trying to save their relationship.
this is one of the many slides i made on byler
#byler endgame#byler nation#byler is canon#byler#byler tumblr#stranger things 5#mike wheeler is gay#will byers#mike queerler
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Disappointments of the Mastermind
So yeah, I at least didn't get super ultra angry at this episode even like I do now, let alone how I used to. Mostly bored and uninvested. Really, all the investment went to Satan, even if he's more red.
Anyways, I had two major disappointments in the episode and first off is Leviathan and Belphagor. I mean, come. On! Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Mammon, each one had some big ol' grand entrance for their very first appearances! Even when Mammon was already at least partially revealed on twitter or whatever, he still had the big ol' concert in the Midseason Special, with smoke and fireworks and all that. Even Satan's got something of a grand entrance in this episode, with the spotlight shining on him in the courtroom and hovering up in the air with his wings spread wide. Belphagor and Leviathan, though? They just... there. They're just sitting there with absolutely no fanfare. Even Lucifer in Hazbin Hotel got some fucking build-up to his first appearance in the show! But Belphagor and Leviathan don't even get some damn build-up, let alone a big, grand entrance!
The second disappointment was Stolas's treatment when he finally suffered consequences for his actions. You see, there's this argument that everyone's heard of by now. The one that says that both Stolas and Blitzo were in the wrong. Except this episode made me believe that even less than I already did. Here's how it went:
Blitzo, for two or three episodes straight, had brutal beatdown after beatdown, hammering in with a fucking sledgehammer how much of a shitty person he is for not wanting a relationship and for not being in love (maybe that's not accurate, not a hundred percent, but since not believing Stolas's confession is what the writers are treating as wrong, then it's not unreasonable for me to think that). No one gave any leniency, no one gave him a moment to breathe, just none of that. At until Blitzo relented to the idea that he caught feelings for that damn owl somehow
Stolas, in the meantime, got to completely gloss over the sexual coercion he did with no one even caring to know about it. When he still suffered consequences for lending out the book, as well as getting literally trashed on, Stolas was immediately comforted, protected, and taken care of after every single bad thing that happened to him. In the very first episode that shows him actually suffering as a result of his actions to boot
So yeah, when it's like that, how the fuck am I supposed to believe that both sides are equally wrong? I couldn't even enjoy the first piece of garbage thrown at Stolas because I actually knew the writing well enough by now that it wasn't going to slide or be portrayed as deserved. And sure enough, Blitz did come to his rescue. Every time. Blitz told everyone to stop with the garbage, he gave Stolas a fucking bath, and tucked into the couch and kissed him goodnight. (Side note, I legitimately felt like it was like a father taking care of a toddler. No romance was felt from those scenes. At all. And that fucking onesie that Stolas is always in as of late doesn't help). And I have a bad feeling I won't be able to enjoy Octavia severing ties with Stolas because it wouldn't be all that surprising to me if I.M.P. swooped right in and cuddling him and telling him that it'll all be okay right after Octavia slams the door on her dad
But yeah, in conclusion, even when they're suffering consequences for their actions, Blitzo and Stolas are still not being treated equally. Either Blitzo needed to be comforted and protected and taken care of just as much as Stolas had, Stolas needed to have just as many beatdowns as Blitzo did with no leniency until he finally realized something, or Blitzo and Stolas needed to have an equal amount of people in their corner and being called out with no way out of it. Those are the only ways I can ever even remotely believe that both sides were in the wrong
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I don't think you can say house md was not homophobic even with the so called "rep" it's definitely a product of its time but you don't gotta lie and say it was more progressive than it was, you can just like the show while acknowledging it's problems. Yes, there was a bisexual character, who had countless biphobic jokes made at their expense. There was a whole episode where house and wilson talk about how weird it is for one of the nurses to date a trans woman who they call a tranny. There's a whole episode about them discovering a teen girl is intersex and house misgendering her by calling her a man the whole episode and telling her that her anger is due to the cancer she has when she becomes upset about being told she is "not really a girl" I love the show too, but every person that says the show is homophobic and transphobic is right, it's a product of its time, it still more bigoted than "progressive", and liking it even like that is not a crime or makes you a bad person. Let's not lie about what it is just because we like the show, plenty of queer people do but that doesn't make it less bigoted.
Respectfully: I don't think I'm lying at all when I say it was progressive for its time.
You're right, though, anon! It ABSOLUTELY could be bigoted, too, especially in the early seasons (specifically I'm thinking of the moments you mentioned, the one with the nurse House and Wilson discuss, and the entire episode "Skin Deep", etc.) and I can acknowledge that. I agree, it doesn't make someone a bad person to enjoy something like this show that is indeed a product of its time. But even just beyond the "rep" of having Thirteen as a canon bisexual character, the show did so much that was progressive for its time IRT: lgbt+ presence in media.
Just one example of many I could give is "The Softer Side". The entire episode "Skin Deep" is something I like to skip over, but it's not a "forgive and forget" type of thing. I don't approve of the episode and I want to hold the writers who came up with that entire thing and everyone who let it slide accountable. But three seasons later, we got "The Softer Side", written by Liz Friedman. The Softer Side's patient is a child who was born intersex, but was given gender assignment surgery at birth, and whose parents don't want him to know he's intersex. The episode handles his case with such care that I don't think a show today could really even come close to achieving. The issue was never that this kid was intersex. He's not being treated for a condition that was caused by him being intersex. Him being intersex has nothing to do with the diagnosis he gets at the end of the episode! The only reason him being intersex came up during his case is because his parents didn't want him to know, and thus told the doctors at PPTH to lie to him about testosterone he was being given (it's implied his parents had been giving it to him for at least a year/a short while iirc). And the team at PPTH (specifically Thirteen) thought that he had the right to know, that it would be good for him to know and understand this part of himself! They're supportive! The episode doesn't wave away the fact that he was given gender assignment surgery! It pushes for an acceptance of both masculine and feminine and giving people the freedom to decide for themselves, even when they are children (and not saying a child the patient's age is too young to know what he/she wants, etc.)
The way House MD and Liz Friedman handled this absofuckingloutely blows other shows portrayal of intersex people at the time out of the water. Does it make up for Skin Deep, or the t-slur comment? No. But it set a precedent for how other TV shows should handle such subject matter going forward. This is why I don't think the show as a whole is homophobic, despite having homophobic/transphobic/bigoted moments.
It's also worth noting that Liz Friedman, who wrote The Softer Side, is a lesbian herself, was a writer on Xena: Warrior Princess (an earlier example of queercoding), and was one of two LGBT writers who were in charge of writing all of Thirteen's plotlines.
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Rooftop.
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Pairing: Hwang Hyujin/Female reader
Genre: romance, smut (minors DNI), exes to lovers, a tiny bit of angst
Word count: 6.4k words
Warnings (contains spoilers): swearing, making out, oral (fem recieving), fingering (fem recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), breakup topics, a bit of toxicity ngl, Hyujin and reader are both switches, they fuck on a rooftop lol
Summary: You could cut the tension with a knife, the air is so thick, it's difficult to tell if what's giving you shivers is the cold breeze or Hyujin's fingers dancing around your wrist and upper arm. Nevertheless, you try to stand your ground and keep your composure. "Let go."
Writer's note: This is actually inspired by this song and this song, so if you want to read it with them on the background just to get the vibes, i highly recommend it :). Happy reading <3
•
Party.
Tons of people.
How can such a sour scenario for some bring you so much joy?
You didn't know.
All you knew was that you wanted to enjoy it.
That was the first thing on your mind when Milli begged you to tag along with her in the first place, helping you pick the tightest dress you had and promising that it'd be good and that you'd have fun.
You did; for the first three hours, you did. All the drinking, dancing, and chatting with so many different people really did something for you and your self-esteem. You felt great; you felt happy.
Until you didn't.
Everything started to feel oddly overwhelming; you told yourself it was fine, that your social battery was probably dead, and that you just needed a minute to recharge, nothing out of the ordinary.
So that's what you did, quickly apologizing to Milli and promising her you were sober enough to walk around the huge house by yourself—and you were, an hour had passed since your last shot of alcohol. and going to find a place to clear your mind a bit.
Now, you're basically just pacing around the house, forcing yourself to feel good, to feel better, to enjoy this moment.
It's been two months, for God's sake.
Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts and decide to search for the stairs that led to the rooftop, forcing your brain to remember the instructions Minho (the owner of this gigantic apartment and one of Milli's closest friends) gave you.
You manage to do just that, finding the somehow hidden stairs that possibly led to where you wanted the most, stopping when you got to a huge glass door that showed the gorgeous city view the rooftop offered.
When you slide the door open, the cold breeze that hits you is immediate, and you shiver, releasing a short exhale and stepping into the atmosphere.
The place was beautiful; thankfully, that's all you can focus on. How the pretty fairy lights shone just like the city ones; the way the wind blew; how you could hear the loud music that was playing downstairs; and how you could see the entire city.
Perfect.
"How are people ignoring this?" You mumble to yourself, perplexed, resting on the parapet as you watch the view.
The alcohol in your system was far gone, and you're becoming more present with every passing second. Closing your eyes, you begin taking in the "silence," feeling the cold breeze, focusing on your own breathing, and slowly feeling less anxious and more grounded, more like you.
"See? Just fine now." You speak again, reassuring yourself that you're good to head back and enjoy the rest of your night.
Slowly opening your eyes, you smooth out your dress and gather some courage, turning around to walk straight into the madness once more.
"Hi." A familiar voice says, and you jump, your heart racing furiously at the sudden appearance. A startled sound comes out of your mouth right after it.
You're supposed to calm down when you realize it's not a stranger; it's someone you know, maybe too well.
But you don't.
Your hand is still dramatically placed over your heart when you speak, trying to come down from the abrupt rush. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Your tone should sound angry, annoyed, and discontent, but it's more shaky and frustrated than anything.
"I thought you'd be happier to see me." He walks closer to you, and now that the lights are hitting him, you can see he's holding two red cups. "It's been a while."
He just had to remind you that he existed.
You and Hyujin dated for a year. You met him through Milli, at her birthday party. It was at this fancy restaurant you weren't quite familiar with; Milli had all these rich friends from her high school, and you were honestly hesitant and intimidated when she invited you. But you loved the girl to death, she is your best friend, and the differences between the two of you never affected your friendship. She insisted on buying you a dress - you felt bad, you didn't want her to spend her money on you when it was her birthday, but she wouldn't let you hear the end of it if you didn't accept it. She had the power to convince you to do the unthinkable.
When you got there, you felt a bit dislocated, but those people grew on you over time, and you found yourself opening up to them slowly throughout the dinner.
Hyujin was an exception; he made you feel like you knew him for years the second you arrived there. He was annoying and dramatic, but it was crazy how you connected with him right away. The frenemy dynamic fits the two of you like a glove.
You spent the entire dinner sneaking little snarky comments at him; he'd make a few lighthearted jokes about you, and you'd scoff, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat when he scooted closer to your side and whispered something about Chan being old in your ear. Everything felt natural and fluid, like you were two different pieces of a puzzle that someone decided to place together by accident but somehow worked.
It didn't take long for you to start tagging along when Milli hung out with her friends, and even though you would never say it out loud, you always hoped Hyujin would be there too.
The teasing between you two soon became less friendly, less innocent, more flirtatious and dearing, and when Jisung brought up your "ranging sexual tension" at a random party, the two of you just couldn't deny it anymore.
So you fucked in his room.
With the door unlocked.
While everyone was downstairs partying.
Definitely an experience.
He asked you out on a date right after, saying, "You'll fall in love with me anyway; might as well speed up the process." He said, in between pecks on your face.
Once you truly became close to him, you realized he was so much more than what he actually showed to people. He was so full of passion and so artistic, he had the most beautiful way of seeing the world. Every time he would be courageous enough to show you his paintings, drawings, and pictures, it was like you had the privilege of seeing the world through his eyes, and you fell for his way of seeing things rather quickly.
Well, you fell for him rather quickly.
Dating him was thrilling, fun, and so fucking sexy. Hyujin liked experimenting in different ways; he liked encouraging you to try different things and push your limits, and the best part was that he did it without putting pressure on you. He's probably the main reason you know what gets you going and your kinks so well; he helped you through it, and oh boy, was he good at it. He was always quick to assure you that you could stop at any point or call him out for being pushy as well.
Being with Hyujin was easy. Understanding him and feeling understood by him felt like second nature to you, going on museum dates, using taking Kkami on a walk as an excuse to get ice cream, enjoying the silence as you read a book and he paints by your side...everything was perfect. You loved it.
You loved him.
So you vocalized it, and you told him you loved him afterward. It was so sudden—a random rainy Monday took place when he texted you, saying he had something to give you. He gave you the most beautiful painting you've ever seen—a painting of you at the park, holding Kkami with a huge smile on your face—the day you met his parents.
You felt the tears forming, and you couldn't hold them back as you whispered softly, "I love you."
It comes easily to you; you grew up in an affectionate family where saying you loved each other was common, so you carried that throughout your entire life. You always told your friends you loved them when you felt the feeling bubble up inside you, and even though some of them didn't feel "ready" to say it, you knew they felt the same.
Because to you, if you love someone, you tell them.
But Hyujin didn't love you.
He didn't say it back; he just nodded and gave you a forceful smile, pulling you close before wiping the tears away from your face. You stiffened; you were petrified that you said something wrong, but you decided to stay just like that, being held by him.
He spent the rest of the night weirdly silent, only talking when talked to.
The next day, he left without saying goodbye. You woke up to an empty bed and a small note with an apology; you figured he just had to rush for something.
But three days passed and he was still weird, three days became six, and you were already starting to panic. He was avoiding you in every possible way.
You felt like you ruined it, like you ruined your perfect, happy, and healthy relationship by vocalizing how you felt.
It hurt so bad, and when you called him to try to convince him to meet up so you could discuss it, he cut you off by saying he "didn't think it was going to work out." You crumbled into pieces on top of your bed.
It was like your world was shattered, and you couldn't piece together any of the words he said after that.
Hyujin was breaking up with you right after you told him you loved him, and that was the only thing on your mind.
He never gave you a proper explanation either; he just ran around in circles and apologized for feeling the way he was feeling, which only fueled your sadness and anger more. You cried for hours—for two days straight. To your relief, you had the most amazing people by your side during the breakup; they helped you build yourself back up.
Hyujin didn't need to love you, he didn't have to. He just needed to say something to make you stay.
He didn't.
Slowly but surely, you picked up your pieces and did your best to go on with your life, even though you've never been that brokenhearted.
The stinging pain that you felt in your chest every time you'd see something that reminded you of him slowly went away, or maybe you just got used to it. It didn't hurt anymore.
A month passes, and that's when you decide to go to your first party after the breakup, a medium one at Yeonjun's house. It was nice, nothing too much, but the thought of maybe running against Hyujin haunted you, preyed on you.
You probably attracted it, and the moment you locked eyes with Hyujin again is still unforgetable; there was so much need and want in his eyes as if he were saying "Please" without opening his mouth.
He was the first to break the barrier between the two of you and grab you by the waist, rushing out of the party without exchanging a single word with you, and honestly, you didn't feel like talking to him.
The whole ride to his house was completely silent, and when you finally got there and he opened the door, it was like a switch had been flipped as he pulled you by the neck and attached your lips.
All you could think about was how much you missed him and how much you loved him.
Hell, you should've pushed him away before it was too late, but resisting his touch didn't seem like an option at the time.
The way he fucked you was different too; he wasn't just fucking you; he was making love to you in a way he had never done before. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and though you felt good, it still stung, but it also sparked hope inside of you.
Maybe he did want you back; maybe he did love you.
But you woke up the next day to the same familiar note.
"Let's forget about this."
So you storm out of his apartment, crying like the stupid person you were for believing in him, thinking he'd want something more with you, thinking he had changed. But he didn't, and you hated that.
That's when you started hating him.
"What do you want?" You question impartiality, crossing your arms in front of your torso.
"To see you." He puts it simply, taking another step closer to you as you lean back to rest on the glass parapet.
This fucking asshole
Oh, you hate him. And the way he's so calm and collected, as if this whole situation doesn't affect him at all, is reminding you of that. He's still the same smug little piece of shit that dumped you and used you.
Your brain is screaming at you to leave, but your body seems incapable of complying with that wish, even when you can nearly feel the hatred you have for him curse through your veins.
"Hyujin, if you think I'm making the same dumb mistake twice, it's not going to happen." You affirm. Grounding yourself in where you stood and watching his smirk disappear into nothing, like he just now understood you're serious.
He scuffs: "Oh, so we're calling a mistake now?" "Such a pleasant one, though, wasn't it?" A pout forms on his lips, and you want to punch it right out of him, especially now that you've started boxing. You want to watch him groan in pain as his nose bleeds.
Okay, maybe you have a problem.
"Pleasant to who?" You ask, shoulder going up and down in question, batting your eyelashes, trying to hold back the smile that wanted to come out.
Hyujin lets out a single sharp laugh at that, shaking his head in denial, "You know how good that was, don't be so fucking stubborn."
"Stubborn? You break up with me over the phone, come back, sleep with me, and tell me it was "nothing" afterwards. Now you're interrupting my very precious alone time, and I'm in the wrong?"
Leave; you need to leave; you're showing too much emotion, this is what he wants—a reaction out of you.
"I hope you're fucking miserable." You spit, nearly storming past him, bumping against his tall figure in the process, and heading straight to the glass doors.
"You didn't seem to hurt that much when you fucked Jisung." He argues, his voice rising, but you feel his tone shake for the first time in this conversation.
Oh no.
He didn't say that.
You stop mid-motion, your grip on the door handle is so tight it hurts. The anger that burns inside of you fuels you completely.
"What?." You all but whisper, still facing the door, completely incredulous. There's absolutely no way he's telling you this when he was the one sleeping with Felix four weeks after you broke up.
"You heard me." He adds.
You breathe in, eyes narrowing. This is all calculated to get a reaction out of you. You spin on your heel to face him in pure disbelief at the words that just came out of his mouth.
"You're joking, right? Cause you have to be."
He doesn't answer, of course; that wasn't his thing; giving actual answers and talking through things wasn't in his dictionary. But the way his gaze is piercing through you speaks for itself.
"Wake the fuck up, Hyujin. We're not together anymore; I can do whatever I fucking want." You grumble, louder than you intend to. "I can sleep with all of your friends if I feel like it."
You can see Hyujin's jaw clench at the idea, you know him so well you can read past every reaction of his. He nervously licks his lips, trying to keep his head up and not lose his confident demeanor, but you can see him crumbling, struggling to get the idea out of his head, unable to meet your eyes.
"Slut." He murmurs, eyes rolling, hands resting on his sides.
When you laugh, nodding simply, Hyujin's eyelids twitch, his anger growing further. His words are meant to hurt you, you think. But they don't.
"Well, yes." You agree, and now it is your turn to step forward, suddenly getting an idea. "Just not for you anymore. Not your slut."
This has never happened before, usually, you're the one to run away from his gaze, you're the one that nervously stumbles over your own words and can't seem to escape his heady scent and gorgeous face.
You were the one to tell him you loved him first, only to be pushed away right after.
Now, you've got him in the palm of your hand, and he knows it too. All this power you suddenly had felt too good. So you take another step, and another, and another. Until he's basically within arm's reach.
"I fucking hate you so much for what you did to me, Hyujin." You sharply point, raising your index finger at him, gently tapping his chest, an action that contradicts your bitter tone.
"Should've done it worse, so you would learn not to fuck my friends." He comes closer, forcing you to look up at him in order to meet his eyes.
"Jisung didn't seem bothered by it when he was over me." You shrug, turning back to walk away again, and leave him hanging at that. But Hyujin has different plans, his hand flies to your wrist, holding with a strong grip, and turning you back to him.
"Careful." He warns before tracing your wrist with his fingers, grip so fucking strong it hurts. But you're not backing down, you can't.
You could cut the tension with a knife, the air is so thick, and it's difficult to tell if what's giving you shivers is the cold breeze or Hyujin's fingers dancing around your wrist and upper arm. Nevertheless, you try to stand your ground and keep your composure. "Let go."
"No." He steps dangerously close again, and you hiss, sealing your lips.
"Hyujin, I'm going to warn you one more time-"
He leans in to kiss you in a heartbeat, and you curse yourself internally for melting so quickly into his touch, his lips are so soft, and it's like your body is screaming, "I miss this; I miss him." You're perfectly connected, like pieces of a puzzle.His hands move to your waist, hugging you close like you could slip away at anytime.
Which you do, preventing him from deepening the kiss by pulling away in a second and pushing your body away from him. Failing when he pushes you back with a strong hand around your waist.
"Hyujin, let go of me. I'm not doing this." You warn, and fuck, you sound so breathless from just a kiss, it's humiliating.
His gaze softens, his brows furrow, and you catch a glimpse of something you've never did before: regret. His hand moves softly to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheeks. "You don't mean that."
"Exactly." You admit it, slamming his hand away from you. "That's why I'm trying to get away from you as soon as I can, because I can't do this anymore I-"
"I love you." He confesses, voice shaking, eyes watery.
Oh my fucking God.
"Hyujin...please."
"It's true. I guess I've always loved you. But I was so scared to vocalize it; the thought of telling you I loved you and then you leaving me was... terrifying." He speaks quickly, stumbling over his words and shutting his eyes forcefully.
"So you left me first?" you ask, crossing your arms.
"I left you because I was scared you'd do the same to me when our relationship began to grow past the surface. I thought you'd jump off when you saw my true colors, my insecurities..."
You feel like you're about to burst, your legs get wobbly, and your mind spins.
Why are you only hearing this now?
"Hyujin I would never leave you for that. I cared about you so much. I'd do anything to make you feel better." You step closer to him, growing soft and gentle, just like you promised you wouldn't.
"I know that now. But I didn't at the time, so I acted stupid all because of my fucking abandonment issues, and then you left, and I just watched you leave twice, and today... I couldn't watch that anymore, after the day at that party, everything clicked to me, I knew I belonged with you. I knew I loved you" Hyujin really looks at you, as if he's grasping at your soul. There's this prominent hint of vulnerability in him that you've never seen before.
Is so sincere, different from what you're used to seeing in him. You wonder if you're just falling into his tricks again.
"You can't just walk into my life again like nothing happened!"
"I'm not trying to. I wanna make things better; I wanna earn you; I wanna start over."
"I don't think that's possible." You admit, shrugging, attempting to push away your intrusive thoughts screaming at you, just try, he regrets this, try again.
"I just need one chance. Please, I really do love you, I can make it up to you. You won't regret this." He uncrosses your arms, holding both of your hands and fondly interlocking your fingers together.
"I regretted it last time..." You sigh. The bitter thoughts of thinking he wanted to start again, to be different, came rushing back. The shattering feeling of being alone in that bed. It killed you.
"This isn't like last time. This is different. I understand how I feel now. I am in love and trying to fix things."
You hate how honest he sounds.
"Why are you only telling me this now? I gave you plenty of chances in the past."
"Because I'm a coward. And I was afraid, too, and I was trying to wrap my head around the information, just like you're doing now."
You shake your head, ready to let go of his hands, but he pulls you back to him, looking deep inside your eyes when you notice his own are teary, like he's on the verge of tears. You've never seen him cry in the past two years that you've known him.
"Just one more chance." He pleads shakily as tears escape from the left sides of his eyes. He takes in your expression so fondly, eyes shining with hope but filled with sadness—it's all new to you. Hyujin was never the one to let you know what he was feeling so directly. You were the one to confess; you were the one to confront him, you were the one that fell back into him.
He leans to rest his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes. feeling what it is like to be this connected to him again. "Please." He repeats.
It's all it takes for you to pull him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his figure and allowing him to fall apart in your embrace. He does, sobbing lightly.
You waited so long to hear him say these words, and part of you thought they'd never come out of him. It's hard to believe it, and you might be dumb for this, but you want to believe it. You want to believe him.
"If you screw this up, I'm going to kill you." You whisper against his ear, and he chuckles, sniffing and pulling away to wipe his tears.
"I'm not joking." You playfully warn, swatting his arm.
"I'd die happy in your arms." He shrugs, and you snort, rolling your eyes, suddenly feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, the tension still lingering, just differently now.
"Shut up."
That's when he closes the distance between you, pulling you to him by your waist like he always loved to do. You missed it. It's undeniable.
Please, Hyujin, don't make me regret this tomorrow morning.
He's kissing you tenderly, lovingly, and attentively. It contrasts from how he used to kiss you before—there's no rush, no hurry, just an utter and pure feeling as his arms hug your waist so tightly and your hands wrap around his neck easily, like they know they're supposed to, without you even thinking about it.
When you finally open your mouth, giving him access to bring his tongue to dance along yours, a sigh of relief leaves you. It's like your bodies were made for each other, made to connect.
Hyujin's hands quickly move to your waist, rubbing soft circles there with the pads of his fingers, the kiss turns feverish within a second, and it doesn't take long for you to run your fingers through his very soft hair, tugging on the strands with need.
You pull away when your lungs are screaming, nearly giving out, and stare at him, his plump, swalled lips and dark sparkling eyes affecting you more than they should.
Without thinking, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against the huge couch and sitting on top of him.
"You're so gorgeous, it literally hurts me." He adds, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration.
"Same." You simply put, kissing him again.
Your hands skillfully move to remove his leather jacket, pushing the fabric off his shoulders and throwing it somewhere. Your senses are filled with him—his smell, his touch, his presence. It's almost asphyxiating; you hope it doesn't kill you.
"I love you." he says, moving to place kisses all over your neck. You moan, throwing your head back, when he sucks and bites on the skin. "I missed you so fucking much."
"Missed you too.." You can't gather the courage to tell him you love him back, not when all of that happened, not when you're still... wondering.
"I'm going to make you feel so good, gonna make you know how much I love you." He leaves a trail of saliva along your jawline, squeezing your tights so harshly that it draws a whimper out of you.
"Fuck, just...please."
"You want it here? Where anyone could see?" He's rubbing your inner thigh now, so close to where you need him the most.
You nod, and you wish you could say it's the booze talking, but you haven't drank anything in a two hours. You're just that careless.
With a single motion, Hyujin flips the two of you. Your back hits the couch, and your head is met with a soft pillow. Hyujin is now on top of you, smirking. Your dress has ridden up completely, exposing your panties.
"You're so pretty, I was such a fucking idiot." He lifts your dress further, kissing your belly, and you squirm under him.
"Hyujin..."
"Patience. I need to take my sweet time with you, hm? I want to redeem myself."
"You can redeem yourself quickly."
At that, he laughs, giving you a playful slap on the inner thigh and softly licking the flesh.Your chest rises and falls so heavily that it feels like you've been out of air for ages. You're arching your back, opening your legs further, trying to get him to finally get to where you need him.
But Hyujin was a tease in every possible way. He liked to drag out every touch; he liked to see you struggle and squirm and fall apart for him, he liked to see you beg.
That's it.
He liked to see you beg.
"Hyujin, please, missed you so much, really want you, need you. Please."
He looks up at you, eyes narrowing, and you see his expression darken completely. He tugs at your panties so fast you barely feel them, and you have no time to process before he's already diving into your cunt, licking every aching part of you.
It feels so good, so delicious, and he has always been the best at giving head - especially after a day, on your birthday, when he wanted you to teach him exactly how you liked it. - he furiously sucks on your clit and you moan loudly, there's no way people can hear you from where you are - and if they do, you don't care.
His tongue is moving so fucking artfully against you, you're already desperate—that it has your eyes rolling back to the top of your head and your hands clasping his hair and pulling hard, just as you know he likes it. He lets out an approving groan, and you push his head back to your middle, already missing the contact.
When he's back at it, his hunger goes up by a hundred percent.
You might go fucking crazy.
"F-fuck Hyujin, how the fuck did you get even b-better at this?" You stutter.
He chooses that exact moment to push his fingers inside of you, and at the same time, you clench immediately, struggling to hold back the growing urge to fuck yourself on his fingers.
"Holy shit Hyujin your mouth, you're so good, so good to me."
You feel yourself on the brink of your high as Hyujin does something with his mouth that has you nearly screaming—but also, where the fuck did he learn that? - Regardless, it has you shaking, unable to stop moaning his name, begging him to keep going, and crying out inconsistently.
"Oh my, fuck, Hyujin, fuck, fuck, yes, yes, yes."
He curves his fingers, and you swear you see fucking stars when he hits that spot inside of you, it's when you break apart completely, pushing your entire body forward, moaning his name so loudly it scratches your throat.
Hyujin coaxes you through your orgasm, and when you're - finally, cause it took a while - coming down, he leaves a trail of soft pecks on your clit, chuckling when you shut your legs, still sensitive.
"Holy crap I don't think I've ever... gosh, Hyujin, that might have been one of the best orgasms I've ever had in my entire life."
He bursts out laughing, sitting back on your side and kissing your cheek lovingly.
"You're so easy to impress."
"You call that easy?"
"I mean, I've done better."
You smirk, yes, he has. Five months ago, at the beach house But this was a close second.
"Fair." You shrug. "That was so, so good though." You move closer to him, carefully moving your hand to his thigh.
"Yeah?."
"Yeah." You let your hand fall over his - painfully hard - dick, closing your hand around him, his breath catches.
"Shit."
As you softly stroke him, you begin, "Can I ride you, Jinnie?"
You don't want to laugh, but it's hard not to when you literally feel his cock twitch with that simple nickname you haven't used in months.
"You're so naughty." He says, holding you with both hands and placing you on his lap. So much for being in control, you think. "Didn't even let me make it up to you, talk to you properly, before jumping on me like a needy bunny."
"I mean, you said it before. I'm a slut."
"My slut." He adds. "Just for me."
"Let's see about that." You argue, pulling him into a searing kiss, slowly grinding down on his hard length, his breath catching in the process.
His hands move to your ass, squeezing harshly, the kiss is messy, with lots of tongue just how you like it. It has you moaning against his mouth and rolling your hips even more furiously.
Quickly, you begin to take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants with hungry eyes and a lick of lips.
Hyujin smirks at you, stopping you mid-motion. "Needy, aren't you?"
"Been a while." You admit, holding yourself up with your knees and pulling his jeans down.
Hyujin doesn't question, he just lets you work and lets you use him. You can see by the look in his eyes that he is dying to make you feel good, but all you can think about is making him a mess. You want him to know there's no one better for him than you, there's no way he could forget you.
"Clean?." You tilt your head in question.
"Yes. You?."
"Yeah, and on the pill."
He leans in to peck your lips.
"Perfect." When you start to tease him at your entrance and watch the sight of his head thrown back and eyes forced shut, you know you're doing just that. You sink into him slowly, cautiously, it's been a good while since you've been with Hyujin, and he's not exactly...small.
Once you sink in completely, you can feel every inch of him opening you up, stretching you so nicely that a loud moan leaves you right away.
"Shit, you're so tight....so warm." He shakily adds.
You're so needy that you have no time to adjust before subconsciously rocking your hips against him, eventually bouncing up and down in a rhythm you know drives him crazy.
Hyujin is already an utter mess under you, shaking, mouth agape, and looking so fucked out before you've even started to do anything. He's right where you want him.
"Holy fucking crap! Wait. I-I might need a moment." He grips your hips, harshly digging his nails into your skin to keep you steady.
Chuckling, you nod your head and wait for a minute or two. Hyujin always loved this position more than you did, but you can't say it doesn't do wonders for your ego to see this hell of a man go insane just from feeling you like this. He's so close already, it makes you want to do more.
"It's okay, Jinnie, I'm here. You're alright." You soothe, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Can I move now?"
"Yeah, just...slowly?." His eyes are sparkling, and his voice is covered in honey, his hair is a mess, and his lips are swollen. He is definitely a sight.
"Of course, baby." You feel his cock twitch inside of you again from the nickname, and you smile to yourself before rocking into him, slower, but harder.
This time it builds, and Hyujin moves an efficient hand to work on your clit while you bounce on him with such vigor, you can't believe you're actually doing this in the middle of a rooftop. But right now, the thought of it seems to make you even wetter. Eventually his lips meet yours halfway with sloppy but deep trusts, and you have to hold on to his shoulders to ground yourself, feeling lost in pleasure. Senses filled with Hyujin, Hyujin, Hyujin.
"So good, oh my God, so good. I missed you so much, was so stupid of me to let you go. I love you."
You clench at his words, and he notices it. Looking up at you with a smile, not even an ounce of a smirk, he brings his hands to lift your dress and props one of your hardened nipples on his mouth, sucking deftly.
"You like it when I tell you this, don't you? You're so hot. I love you so much, I'm gonna stay with you for a fucking life time. Gonna be with you forever, I want you so bad I can't believe I have you again."
"H-Hyujin, don't fucking say that, shit..."
The knot inside of you only grows and grows, and even with the aching of your thighs and tiring legs, you can't stop moving against him in such a lewd way. You want to cum so badly, you're going crazy.
But Hyujin knows you too well; he notices the signs, and his thrusts begin to get sharper, faster, and deeper, hitting a spot inside you you haven't felt in fucking ages, which drives a loud mewl out of you.
"That's it, just don't stop, fuck- Hyujin, it feels so good, I'm so full; you fill me up so well."
You're going to snap, you're going to snap anytime soon, and you need him to do it with you.
"I love you, Hyujin, I love you so much. There's no one that can fuck me like you do, no one that can love me like you do." You're completely drunk in pleasure, not fully aware of the words that are coming out of you, but they linger there, coming from such a vulnerable place.
"Fuck, if you say that, I'm gonna fucking cum."
"Do it w-with me, I-I'm so close, Jinnie, so close."
It only takes a few drag out circles on your clit and you're convulsing on top of him, crying out his name twice as loudly as you did before, tears threatening to escape as he continues to fuck you out through your high. It doesn't take long for him to paint your walls, kissing you furiously and whimpering a few thank yous and I love yous against your chest. It feels so good, almost too good to be true.
You stay like that for a moment, holding each other, feeling the heavy breathing steady itself, hearts pounding in unison.
Then clarity hits you, and you realize that you did, in fact, fuck with your ex for the second time. on a rooftop.
"Hyujin?" you say, gently running your fingers through his hair.
"Yeah?."
"Did you really mean all of that?"
"Of course I did, my love."
You want to cry.
"I'm so sorry. For everything that I did and for the things I said today, I was angry at myself and couldn't find the words, so I just...blamed it all on you." He adds.
"I know you are. You're just going to have to prove it."
"I'm dating you so hard, starting tomorrow."
"Sure, but first, your apartment? I need a shower, and maybe... round two?"
"You're insatiable." He chuckles, lovingly biting on your shoulder.
-----------------------------------
You wake up the next day alone on his bed, with no note.
The smell of pancakes fills your nose, and you smile brightly when you hear the familiar humming of lyrics coming from the kitchen.
It's hard to believe it.
You're wearing Hyujin's shirt, covered in his scent, while you tiptoe to the kitchen and meet the sight of him, apparently making breakfast for the two of you.
When his eyes find yours, he gives you the widest, most sincere smile—one that warms you from the inside out.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty."
"You're here." You say, eyes teary.
"I told you I would be, you make me want to stay."
You run to hug him, and he quickly catches you, allowing you to wrap your legs around him as he holds you tight.
"I love you."
"I love you more. Thank you for giving me a chance."
Feel free to reblog and comment on this with your feedback, or send me an anon or ask, I'm always open to it and I'd appreciate it a lot! <3
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Saw the Triangle meta on your dash and wanted to go check my bias; so, I scrounged around in the scripts for the writer's original vision.
Scully's infamous eye roll (preceding the "Oh, brother") was actually a second appearance in the script: when Mulder wakes up and starts behaving loopily, she dismisses his antics with an eye roll--
--and orders him back onto bed so he'll calm down and recover. The entire conversation is dryly affectionate; and she (and Skinner and TLG) consider him very, very high.
When she's about to walk out and he calls her back to confess his love, Scully rolls her eyes again and says, "Oh, brother" before sliding away-- meaning, this behavior was in line with her earlier dismissal of his tale of Thor's Hammer and her saving the world.
When Mulder says, "I would have never seen you again. But you believed me," Scully is touched but still flippant, teasing off his sappy earnestness with an "In your dreams." He smiles, she's proud of her joke; she then tells him to close his eyes and to dream "There's no place like home." Their mood is equally buoyant and relieved.
And her faces throughout--
--aren't serious or angered or injured or saddened: Gillian plays her comedically, infusing her with quick little beats and a soft, almost amused voice.
And when Mulder calls her back, she tucks her chin in, raises her eyebrows, and prepares for Mulder's next set of rambling--
--then shuts everything down with a soft aside ("Oh, brother") that Scully believes won't even register through the heavy drugs... because, again, she thinks he's drugged out of his mind. If Scully were really pained or angry or self-protective, she would have clammed up, scowled him down, and retreated without a word.
Scully even has a brief moment where she gazes at the corner like Jim from The Office looks into a camera--
--before deciding Mulder will sleep this off (and forget it completely); then leaves.
In short: Scully isn't dismissive because she's angry or hurt. She's actually fondly annoyed-- her M.O.
I do, however, see how it could have been fun for the X-Files to have an angsty throughline here; but per the writers and actors repeated comments-- that the show was essentially reset every week, and that nothing connected-- combined with the writers and actors also stating Season 6 was more light-hearted than previous seasons (taking advantage of the sunny Cali weather/atmosphere), it just doesn't seem to track. ://///
However! I'm not gonna yuck someone's yum-- I know there's tons of angst lovers who derive satisfaction or enjoyment from those possibilities. Let 'em have fun, I say. ;))))))
...I don't even know why I took the time to deep-dive other than I'm bored and waiting for my food to finish cooking. XDDD
Oh, bonus content! I didn't want to leave this ask on a whatever note, so here's some Wikipedia trivia~
Interesting. o.o
Thank you for your input! It's not my post and I really just thought it was interesting. As are your observations. I so agree that we as fans put way more thought into this than the writers ever did. The meta post makes so much sense, and it works with the previous episodes, and how Mulder acts.
That said, I don't necessarily believe the writers intended it to be this way. CC wrote the episode, and he often—if not always—has Mulder do whatever he wants without regard to consequences or Scully. Scully, on the other hand, can come across as dismissive - to me anyway.
For me, personally, there is hardly ever just one truth when it comes to this show. I love reading people's meta posts and I usually share them so other people can see them, too.
#lovely asks#i change my opinions all the time#someone says something and i'm like oooohhh#it has an element of playing with the material and i enjoy that#thank you for this deep dive :D
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Ok I need to go on a rant about show tunes. They're objectively bad. Don't worry, I've heard a lot of them, I even played in the pit for my high school theater and I still hate show tunes. 1.The lyrics are cringey, basically just dialogue or literal exposition of the story. I do like concept albums, in fact I think the idea of using music to tell a story is great, but making your characters constantly RHYME to speak to one another is absolutely insane as it takes away the characters ability to speak in their own voice. The linear progression of story telling also means that the lyrics rarely repeat, often as a song goes on a chorus allows for the listener to reinterpret the previous verses and anticipate new ones, we rarely get such a break in show tunes. this almost means that we get explicit character names, places, and events in our lyrics which lacking context completely jar a listener. 2.Singing is bad. Essentially it's modern opera, so I get that it started with lots of projection and vibrato, but let's be real you no longer have to do that with lapel microphones. We can have dynamic volume and annunciation. These people have grown up their whole lives singing with piano accompaniment and it shows in the tin-like nasal annunciation they sing. Even the best broadway singer would instantly butcher any other genre as they barely slide notes or usually can't hold notes WITHOUT vibrato, nor do they get through distorted vocals without simply getting raspy. 3.Instrumentation. To be fair, musicals have been getting a little better about incorporating stuff besides classic accompaniment but basically whenever they do they attempt it as a genre piece, and end up completely cliche as the genre is concern. Outside of the narcissisms of the writers or actors, the MUSIC is never the focus of the song. 4. No genre or originality. I would say Grease and Rocky Horror are perfect examples of this in that basically they are simply 4 chord progression covers of a well established genres that are extremely easy to churn out. If you know a little music theory you could write a "blues" or "rock" or "jazz" musical in an afternoon. Even when it's done no song from a musical can stand on it's own against MUSIC written for the purpose of just being listened too. If you were to have a blind listening test for anyone trained in any amount of music they could pick out a "musical" song nearly 99% of the time. Most "Musical" music is to normal music what Christian Rock is to rock, the music is entirely secondary to an agenda.
5.Arrangement. Very little thought is usually put into the arrangement of the of songs, as nothing besides the voice of the actors can really take up much time in the melody so why bother. Interesting sounds, instruments, or melodic and harmonic ideas are just a distraction to the performance. Outside of backing there's little required of most musicians to preform these pieces, and half the time it sounds like a church band or high school choir for this reason. Improvisation, instrumental solos, or a breakdown are either rare or completely unimaginative in structure. 6. Chord progressions are all basic to the point that the "halfway through a song key step as a way to mix it up a little bit because we got more exposition in the lyrics as we go from point a to b as we do a 4 chord progression that is getting boring" is a thing in pretty much every musical. So anyways in conclusion, musicals suck, are completely stagnant as a "genre". They are written by and for a strange kind of narcissistic person who needs to constantly hear a very loud voice telling them a story with comforting non-dangerous music that's really only there to help set a little bit of mood for whatever tacky costume and choreography is supposed to be happening on stage. If you listen to show tunes for fun outside of actually watching a stage production you probably should be institutionalized. If, even worse, you make other people listen to them on a PA system while at a retail or work situation you should be euthanized. Don't send me your favorite "this is musical music but it's good because it avoids the reasons you said above" as it still sucks for another reason I didn't remember while typing this.
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⚠️PSA For New Users from TikTok:
Here are some helpful things I have heard or done as a way to navigate this app:
Reblog things. Likes are ok but the Double tap does Nothing for reaching ppl here. For content to reach more people - Reblog it.
This app is text and photo based. Videos do ok here but mostly this is for Unhinged writers, artists and bloggers as far as I can tell. Not for you? Try something else.
Say whatever you want in the tags. There is no God. No Devil. No rhyme or reason. Sure tag things that might be relevant to your post or leave an Unhinged take on something there. Honestly no real rules for tags.
NSFW and 18+ content is risky. Goes without saying for most social media, but "spicy" art kinda went through a Purge here. However fanfic is welcome! (See point 2)
Staff is not that serious. There's a semi running joke about them. Honestly just don't be a raging asshole and you'll be fine.
THERE IS NO ALGORITHM. Follow people whose content you like to keep seeing it. Works kinda like TikTok sorta ig. Instead of an FYP it is called your Dash or Dashboard. You see the content to reblog or follow. Do this by engaging with the app and seacjing for tags you like. On that note...
Don't like something? BLOCK IT. There is no reason to hate on something you don't like or that isn't for you. Again, no algorithm so if you cone across tags you don't jive with, block it.
There is no reason to censor yourself. The lingo and language used over on other apps doesn't translate here well. Plus, as above, it makes it harder for ppl to block things. A good example would be "unalive" and "sewer slide" just add in the actual words in tags or if you'd like have huge/attention grabbing (colored, folded, etc) text near the top of your posts so ppl can get what they want and leave what they don't.
Side blogs are awesome. Don't feel like cluttering up all your content on 1 blog? Make another! Keep art on one and knitting on another! Or whatever you like! People have side blogs all over the place!
Be open. Things have changed for you all just joining us, but some of us have been here a LONG time. (Ex: Started this blog in 2014 I think) Some of us are even now just coming back after not using this site in YEARS. There will be jokes you don't get, lingo and stories you may not understand. But give it enough time and I think you may end up liking this funny little dumpster fire of a site that's been around on this corner of the app store and internet for a while.
If you don't know something, ask a Vet! More than likely some of us have been here a while. Ask boxes and Dms will be open for us to response in due time. Or ask a friend! Again, this place is an old home to quite a number of us. You might be surprised how much some will remember about our little hellscape.
Have some fun! This is the Wild West of social media apps. There's a few rules, but in truth we're beat to hell and back but we're still here and probably will continue to be for a while.
We don't want to be "relevant" or "trending". I can't guarantee you can get paid or even viral here, but you find your little niche and enjoy the content as you like, just don't be mad if you can't go viral or start something new here. It's a place of being ourselves and helping each other discover new fandoms, ideas, etc without worrying about what content we churn out.
Other than that... can't say much else. Feel free to look around for others showing y'all the ropes.
🎉Welcome to Tumblr🎉
#tiktok refugee#luna says stuff#tumblr#new user#tumblr etiquette#tumblr psa#this has been a psa#thanks for coming to my ted talk#veteran of Tumblr
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"Streaming is a challenge to serialized storytelling in that it looks at 'content' often with a different agenda and uses metrics that can take a creative issue and exacerbate it. Like in broadcast, if viewership and thus ad revenue has slightly declined, the show will ned to find a way to make their 22 or 13 episodes on a proportionally smaller budget. What is not done is reduce episode order. But if a streaming series underperforms or doesn't meet expectations, an the streamer doesn't cancel it outright, the go-to budget reduction idea is to reduce episode order for the next season. When you just have 8 episodes and continue to deal with notes to compress, pace up, or omit for what you'd scripted for a longer season, reducing further to six or four episodes is exhausting.
This happens due to a slide in autonomy from what the showrunner position has been. What the chatter on the picket lines revealed to us is that most showrunners today don't get to see their own show's budget, and thus don't get the freedom to make budgetary decisions that could better protect the story they're telling. More and more, showrunners not at a legacy network aren't the final say or at times even involved in hiring key roles. I don't have any ideas that aren't already in contract language, I just see how the job on this side has gotten harder and there isn't much of a way for us to make it easier for each other like we could with having writers on set or in post production, because the streaming model has made that impossible."
- Eric Heisserer, creator, screenwriter, and executive producer of Netflix's Shadow & Bone in a Q&A about the potential future of the show
(Shadow & Bone was abruptly canceled by Netflix after 2 widely successful seasons.)
#what happened to s&b should concern everyone#to people angry about natla: netflix is almost certainly to blame for the rushed pacing#please keep streaming otherwise there is a risk of getting 6-episode seasons instead of 10 episodes which would destroy the storytelling#netflix#shadow and bone netflix#netflix shadow and bone#streaming#tv#television#fuck netflix#netflix avatar#netflix atla#eric heisserer
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You guys really liked this little post just to tell my followers why I was busy, so here's a little bit more information for those who might not know, and a little of my own personal experience:
Yesterday I graduated from Boston University, and about two weeks before our commencement ceremony we were told that our speaker was to be David Zaslav. Zaslav is the CEO of Warner Bros. Discovery, and one of the main people who the WGA (Writers Guild of America) are striking against currently. Zaslav got paid $39.3 million last year alone.
One of my lovely besties and roommate (found here on the fifth slide of the Boston Globe) was the president of the BU YDSA (Young Democratic Socialists of America) and they went right to work. They had a letter writing campaign going to let the university know we were displeased. In my personal experience, everyone I talked to was upset about it (granted, I do keep a fairly based crowd around me). The reaction to the announcement at senior breakfast was very tepid, and people kept mentioning it at parties and classes. Everyone I heard said they were disappointed and wished there was something to do.
The BU YDSA got in contact with WGA East and the Boston chapter of the DSA and they coordinated the picket that resulted. The YDSA held a cap decorating event, wrote up a chant list, and posted constantly about standing and turning your back to Zaslav when he gave his speech. This is what we did.
Actual commencement (which was hot and sweaty as fuck), was pretty fine. Ketanji Brown Jackson was a major highlight, and received almost deafening applause and a standing ovation. I had heard many people comment that they were upset that she didn't deliver our speech. Another huge highlight was the plane that flew circles over us for about 30-45 minutes, displaying its lovely "David Zaslav - pay your writers" banner which everyone appreciated.
I know me, the friends I was sitting with, and the people we heard around us spent the entire ceremony waiting for Zaslav to come out. The girl behind me (the girl in the ew, David hat) was like "is he coming, is that him," five or six times which was very funny.
When he did come out, the booing was the loudest it would be the whole time. About twenty students walked out from what I heard. I can't tell you how many of us stood up because I couldn't see much from where I was, but I can tell you that even more people were showing decorated caps, chanting along with us, and booing loudly. I think the pictures show a few of us when the displeasure felt like it came from the large majority. One guy a few rows behind me took his chair, fully spun it around, and sat down facing the other way. The ew, David girl behind me told people "if you believe in it, stand!" The majority of the speech was people starting up chants or screaming insults at particularly funny moments, which is why I was laughing in that video lol. At one point a guy a few rows ahead of me tried to start a chant "don't ruin my graduation" at us but he did not get any fellow chanters.
Zaslav mentioned famed union buster and all around d-bag Jack Welch as an inspiration and a mentor, which my Dad clocked and noted at five miles away. Zaslav described himself as never letting anyone work harder than him, used struggling at tennis and then getting a famous tennis player as a mentor as an example of struggle and perseverance, and even said he personally hated writing when he was doing it. He also drew a lot of confusion from my lovely friends beside me for saying "Go to your sons baseball game. Go to your friends dads funeral," which made my delightful friend Sandya beside me eloquently say "What the fuck does that mean?"
My parents and my brother all immediately told me the speech to them seemed intentionally antagonistic, and that Zaslav seemed to be enjoying it. My dad insists there is no other reason he would mention the word write about like 20 times.
As someone on the BU reddit so succinctly put it today, "What did yall achieve tho? ... Seems like nothing was done. Just got some superficial news stories that will do nothing to anybody's reputation."
The amount of people I've seen on the BU reddit, and in my personal life who are now aware of the strike because of the protest is astonishing to me. They are asking questions, they are engaged, and even more importantly, they are following the strike and paying attention to the issue. Even if only one person took something away and learned from it, then it was worth it. Solidarity forever, here are some fun BU reddit screenshots of student thoughts, mine are in red:
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Okay I’m back home and I’m back in business babes. I was BUSy.
Das me.
#rip to my avatar followers again but this is important and topical#and don't worry guys i did go through all my notes and start responding to asks again#wga strike#writers strike#wga solidarity#melissa og#melissa bullshit#i get more and more radicalized (become more reasonable) every day
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Layers of Fear 2023, The Actor's Story: Chapter 4
Remember Livejournal where you could put spoilers behind the cut? Well I don't know if I can do that here.
Anyway. Honestly I'm not sure what happened in the literal events of the siblings. Crew found their lost food bag, realized there were kids on board. They had been riled up because of rationing due to the missing food, and an inference had been laid down earlier that the hunger had made the crew bad at their jobs, leaving the ship prone to accidents. So when they find out there are stowaways, they send this lady out to find them. Sister tells little one to go hide. She continues the search for food, and I guess she's inevitably caught.
This is where it all gets blown to shit and I lose my grip. I can't tell if the sister killed this lady? But the lady goes missing. So does the sister. It's assumed that the lady fell overboard accidentally until the quartermaster, (the real one this time, not the kid in a roleplay, UNLESS??) finds the lady's body and "discreetly" throws it overboard, calling the kids monsters and giving up the hunt for them.
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After this it gets real abstract. The kid is blaming themself for the sister's loss, imagining her voice berating them, crying out. They can't find her. It's all their fault, they think. AND THERE'S A LIGHTHOUSE.
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Enter Rat Queen, playing all meek and subservient. Obviously a trick. But the kid is alone and hears her voice asking for help, so they free 7 lost rat souls which I guess feeds her enough to fully allow her to take hold in this kid. That finally gives them the courage to go I'M THE CAPTAIN NOW, face down the formless, and claim an identity.
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Pretty quickly the kid realizes the Rat Queen is full of shit, but it's too late. That's when she's like "see writer? Can't do anything without me." And the kid looks behind the Rat Queen statue, with a figurative "WHAT'S IN THE BOOOOX" scene, revealing the sister's (or the young sibling's?) head. The hair on this head actually has a very similar silhouette to the shadow I found of my own character model in chapter 2. But regardless, this is a no good very bad day, and the director is all smug.
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When I get back to the cabin, it's clear the ship sank. The slides say it, the paper says it, and everyone's at the bottom of the ocean. A Flame, MUCH LIKE THE FLAME OF TALENT IN MY HEART, THE SPARK OF MY SISTER'S BRAVERY THE DIRECTOR SAID I COULD NOT POSSESS, ignited the boiler and blew a hole in the ship. I can't read the note from my agent or the director or whatever. It's all crazy. I have two more strange objects in my collection with one to go, I have one empty slot on the slide deck, and I have two blank poster spots left in addition to the one I missed from chapter 2. I found a red lady shoe with the telescope and it did show up in my room, unlike the last 2 objects. I honestly didn't know there would be a full chapter 5, I thought it would be an epilogue, so for a second I thought I missed my chance to pick up all this stuff. Phew.
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In the cold November rain Part 4
Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Steve Harrington/Fem!Reader Ao3
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TW: Story runs congruent to events in the show. If you know what happens in season 4, then you'll know how this will end.*Be warned.* 18+ Eventually Smut, Angst, High School Fuckery, Drinking, Drugs Let me know if I miss any.
Can you have two great loves in a lifetime?
You've had the ideal childhood in Hawkins with your best friend & protector Steve Harrington. When it's ripped away, can you pick up the pieces? Eddie Munson may be able to help.
Part 4/12? Masterlist
Sincerest & Eternal Thanks To @loveshotzz A magnificent writer & phenomenal human who sparked my Eddie love. I never would have posted this without her.
Inspired by @loveshotzz & notes by @eddieandbird
That's how you wound up back in the band room. Steve broke your heart and thanks to Carol, the entire school knew. A good portion is likely celebrating your fall from grace. You skip the rest of your morning classes, hiding from everyone, you slide down the cinder block wall behind the balcony set from Romeo and Juliet. Sitting on the cold floor with your knees pulled up to your chest, crying, mourning the loss of your entire world. When you lose one friend, it hurts. When you lose all your friends in a single day, it's devastating. But losing Steve ripped you apart. You’ve never felt so alone. Life without him was never a possibility you had considered. You didn't know who you were without him.
"Of course," you say as Eddie Munson slides down the wall beside you.
"I'm happy to see you too, Princess."
"Are you here to gloat? I'm glad my life-ending circumstances can be a source of amusement for you."
"Don't take your shit out on me. I'm not here to be anyone's punching bag." Eddie warns.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. You're the only one left that will talk to me."
"That's the spirit, Princess. Put me in my place. Make sure I know I'm your last resort." He sets his lunch box on his lap and pops it open.
"God, I really am awful, aren't I?" You rest your head against the wall.
"Eh, you're not so bad." He keeps his eyes on the joint he's rolling. "But this is becoming a habit. Twice is my limit for damsels in distress. If I see you crying again, I might have to do something stupid like kiss you."
"Stop trying to make me feel better." You say, looking at him. "I'm trying to be sad here."
He lights up and inhales. "I'm ready. Tell me the real story. I've heard the rumors."
"You don't believe Jackie?" He laughs and chokes on his smoke.
"Fuck no. I might be dumb, but I'm not a fool."
"I don't think you're either." You give him a little smile. He's watching your face now. It's almost unnerving. It's as if he can see more than you willingly reveal.
"I hope his dick falls off." You turn your head away.
"It might. She's slept with everyone, and I do mean everyone."
Now you're the one looking at him. He raises his eyebrows. "What? I get it where I can, Princess."
"Oh, gross. Don't tell me anymore." You hold your hand up in front of him.
"So what happens now? Are you moving in here? I'm not great with pets. I might not remember to feed you every day?"
"What do you suggest?"
"I'm not going to tell you what to do. You have to figure out your own shit. But if it was me in your situation, I say fuck 'em."
"Fuck 'em?"
"Yeah. Fuck 'em." He waves his fist in the air. "You don't want their pity. Make sure they know they're beneath you." He stands. "Stand up. Come on, stand up. I've got other crying girls waiting for me. You're not special." You take his hand to stand. He wipes the tears of your cheeks and straightens your shoulders. Then pretends to adjust your imaginary crown, which makes you smile. He uses his index finger to gently raise your chin, so your head is high in the air. "There. You're all better." He runs his hand along your cheek. "I'll see you around, Princess."
"Thanks for rescuing me, Sir Eddie...Again."
He drops into a dramatic bow, then turns and heads out the door. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more."
***
You take a deep breath before entering the lunch room. The people at your usual table don't turn to look at you, refusing to meet your eyes. Except Jackie, of course, she's sitting next to Steve, staring at you with a smug grin. You hold your head high as you walk down the center aisle with your brown bag lunch. You take a seat at the empty corner of the Hell Fire table. Your name is flying around the room in low murmurs. Opening your bag, you pull out your sandwich and unwrap the wax paper. The loud conversation that usually going on at this table has stopped. Your head turns to find Eddie's brown eyes watching you. You hold his gaze, but neither one of you says a word. The corner of his mouth turns up the tiniest bit before he launches back into conversation with friends. You finish your lunch and never look down. Steve never looks at you once. At the end of the day, you open your locker to gather the books you'll need for homework, and a folded piece of notebook paper flutters to the floor. There is a single line written in unfamiliar handwriting.
Fuck 'em
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Part 5
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Tag List: @boomhauer
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.👑
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